[center][b][h1][color=#44F03E]𝔽[/color][color=#42E93C]𝕦[/color][color=#40E33A]𝕥[/color][color=#3EDD39]𝕚[/color][color=#3DD737]𝕝[/color][color=#3BD136]𝕚[/color][color=#39CB34]𝕥[/color][color=#38C532]𝕪[/color][color=#36BF31]:[/color] [color=#32B32E]𝕋[/color][color=#31AD2C]𝕙[/color][color=#2FA62A]𝕖[/color] [color=#2C9A27]𝔾[/color][color=#2A9426]𝕣[/color][color=#288E24]𝕖[/color][color=#268823]𝕒[/color][color=#258221]t[/color] [color=#21761E]𝔾[/color][color=#20701C]𝕒[/color][color=#1E6A1B]𝕞[/color][color=#1C6419]𝕖[/color][/h1][/b][/center]
[color=008000]
[h3]𝕆𝕝𝕕 ℝ𝕒𝕚𝕝 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕡, ℙ𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟[/h3]
[b]ℕ𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟠𝕥𝕙, 𝟚𝟘𝟞𝟜   𝟙𝟡:𝟘𝟘[/b]

[b][𝔻𝕖𝕞𝕠𝕔𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕪 & 𝔻𝕦𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪], 𝕃𝕠𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘...[/b][/color]

Perhaps the most off-putting detail about the Reclaim Zone is its duality— that [i]maddening[/i] duality wherein you could go from election day on Swathe Street, seeing all the commotion and buzz that gave life to the dying zone, to the [i]Old Rail Stop[/i] where the quiet seeps into your very core. Could anyone really have been surprised that the archaic rail station didn’t get a great voter turnout? The dusty and damp complex was empty, covered in the decaying bits of society’s forgotten waste, and half underground. One wrong move at the wrong time on this street of the Reclaim could spell a slow and bloody end in an alleyway where no one would see the light drained from your eyes.

Alas, bureaucracy is a fickle and inefficient thing. Last year the Reclaim Zone barely had any voting stations. The system was jury-rigged to keep to certain areas. The people complain and this is what they get: nearly unused polling stations spreading every miniscule section of the Reclaim Zone out, and the local government thinking they’ve done something right for once. Maybe the [i]Old Rail Stop[/i] did make a difference today. Maybe— in some fluke— voters chose to come to the crumbling station with its dim and buzzing yellow lights devoid of the neon that assaulted the eyes of Swathe Street passers-by, but you’d never know. The desolate and derelict structure stood piercingly silent. No man or woman walked in or out, but the polling stations were supposedly inside right along the atrium of the fell system of industrial rails.

Cass could already feel the dust gathering along her jacket, its pale grey color becoming even more faded as the dirt and particulate matter from years of the districts neglect pervaded from the streets and the air unto her. The woman sighed, rubbing her hands across the polyester mesh sleeves as if the filth would escape her. It didn’t. She found herself leaning against the back of the 2050 Victory Ultra parked just across the street from the rail stop. Of course, calling it a street left much to be desired. The sub-alley walkway wasn’t necessarily made for cars or pedestrians. Instead, it simply just existed in between the cracks of the megalopolis. The thought brought half a smile to Cass’s face. This was where they ended up— perhaps where they belonged— in between the cracks of the megalopolis…

[color=Mediumvioletred][b]“Busy,”[/b][/color] was the only comment Cass could offer to shatter the deafening quiet. That sarcastic tone rarely left her voice, and this day was no exception. Ever since they had arrived, Cass occupied herself with twitching motions as she palmed her sheathed weapon in between hands.  Her eyes flicked from surveying the station to land upon Mackwell. [color=Mediumvioletred][b]“Information says this is the place,”[/b][/color] Cass offered, leaving the word ‘information’ purposefully a bit ambiguous. This whole tip wasn't much for the team to go off of, but once Campbell heard any mention of suspicious activity around one of the stations on his critical day, he sent a the barebones team out immediately. [color=Mediumvioletred][b]“But who knows if some bureaucratic shill came all the way out here to actual put the machines up. Maybe they just forgot…”[/b][/color] A final sentence escape Cass’s lips, but it was muttered with a hushed tone that made her words nearly inaudible. [color=Mediumvioletred][b]“Hopefully they forgot…”[/b][/color]

Another deep breath ended with a heavy sigh as Cass pushed herself upright and brought her weapon down to her side. [color=Mediumvioletred][b]“We just have to… Look around I guess? See what you can find.”[/b][/color] With that, Cass stepped towards the structure, glancing all around it. Silently, she swiped a hand through the air at random to activate her Opti-Tactics Visual Enhancer. Informative calculations swirled before her eyes and Cass spent a long while just taking them in, unaware and uncaring of the whereabouts and actions of her colleagues. It was always an odd realization to make, ‘that something was off’, but Cass was rarely inaccurate. The uncanny senses of her observance augmentations had set something off unconsciously within her, but she had yet to pick it up. Perhaps that was the fallacy of the machine. The human mind still could not match wits with the speed of the E-Brain. The intrigue buried inside her was there, however, and that was all she needed.

Without glancing back at her colleague, Cass continued to step towards the Old Rail Stop. [color=Mediumvioletred][b]“Well… Let’s get to looking around. Maybe we’ll get back in time for cocktails of victory… Or cocktails of defeat.”[/b][/color] As she spoke, Cass slowly dropped off in volume. Her attention was drawn further from her current circumstances as she wandered away. Strangely, Cass wasn’t heading towards the wide open entryway to the station. Instead, Mackwell and Emma would have observed her treading off towards the alley that lead around the the back side of the station. As far as any of the three knew, there wouldn’t be much back there save for a cramped alleyway, but Cass proceeded regardless until finally disappearing behind the building’s corner.