It is sometime in the morning in the fifth district of Match City.  A young computer technician watches apathetically from a bus-stop as an overweight, middle-aged man, is pulled out of a nightclub, The Jumping Spider, and put on a stretcher.  The nine to fivers that surround him do the same and what they have been waiting for finally arrives, the bus, they lumber onto it, slow and machine like, just as they did the day before, and the day before, etc.  After thirty minutes of sitting limply on that bus seat, he reached his stop, a run-down apartment building, close to the second district.  He walked, now with haste, up a few flights of stairs, until he reached the fifth floor, now facing a plain wooden door labelled 5c, he quickly yet quietly entered the apartment.  He toiled there for a few hours, doing his job, checking up on his equipment, and retrieving his findings.  
   
 The sun shone bright, midday in the fourth district, an athlete was on the run.  His strides were long yet ferociously quick.  His body was featherlike in its movements, effortless.  He ran all around the serpentine roads of suburbia until he was sweating profusely and his vision began to go dark.  He could have been running like this for a plethora of reasons.  College athlete wanting to bring his A game, a professional athlete seeking to join the next Olympics, a soldier getting in peak condition before going on a tour, or just a guy who is obsessed with staying healthy.  Nonetheless, after an hour of basically sprinting, he was spent, exhausted.  At one part of the fourth district there were a few restaurants, friendly family run places.  Whenever he went to this place to run, he would visit a different restaurant, this time a seafood restaurant where he jubilantly, to nobody’s surprise, emptied its supply of crab.

    The afternoon in the third district, a sight to see.  Each mansion was as glorious as the next, but as anyplace, these extravagant homes soon became familiar, and boring.  A young businessman, slightly disheveled dirty blonde hair blowing in the wind, donning aviators and a suit, rang a doorbell at the front gate of one of the larger mansions.  He held a white check, in his left hand, and stared at the unwavering, unblinking camera which appraised him as he stood there with slight impatience.  Then, like magic, the gate opened.  After a long walk down the driveway to the brilliantly crafted home, he went inside, to speak to an acquaintance.  After about fifteen minutes, he left the mansion made of stone and exotic woods with a grin on his face.  He walked a few blocks down where he entered another, smaller mansion, his own, in there he got ready for his next task.

    It was later in the afternoon, around six o’clock when the doors of a warehouse shut and a young scientist walked out of it.  Located in a relatively abandoned part of the second district, the low hum of working machinery was audible from the outside for the short moments the door was open for.  He was tired from a long day’s work and sought a place to relax.  The college aged kid wandered around, attracting attention from thugs, who knew better, due to the presence of Avia, they didn’t bother him.  He walked around the second district, marveling at what this group known as Avia has done to it.  When he first arrived in the city, this area was in shambles, and now, its leagues better.  [color=silver][b]“Their methods are less than subtle though”[/b][/color] he smirked as he thought this.  His walk took a few hours until he finally reached his peaceful destination.

    A college aged kid was hanging out in the first district just night began to fall.  He was propped up on a limb in some tree, earbuds in, attempting to watch the sunset obscured by tall buildings.  He was disappointed to find out that this was not possible.  He sighed and leaned his head back, looking like a loafer with his casual attire and slouched posture.  He closed his eyes [color=silver][b]“what a day, what a day... data collection and analysis, technology, my training, sciences and…….”[/b][/color] Suddenly [color=silver][b]“mmhmmmhmhmmm mmhmhmhmmmm”[/b][/color] he hummed as a new song began to play.  He swung his dangling legs back and forth, opening his eyes and staring at the orange sky.  [color=silver][b]“There’s still much to do”[/b][/color] he thought to himself.  He grasped his smartphone, unlocking it and opened its search engine, there he searched for articles for a short time until he found one titled, “Owner of Fifth District Night Club Dies at Young Age of Heart Attack” it was barely noticeable, but he smirked, knowing that like many times before, he outsmarted the system, and served it.