3 The Matrix

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𝐓𝖎𝖈𝕜-𝖙𝖆𝖜𝕜!

𝐓𝖎𝖈𝕜-𝖙𝖆𝖜𝕜!

𝐁𝖆𝖜𝐤!

𝐁𝖆𝖜𝐤!

𝐁𝖆𝖜𝐤!

Went the clock on the wall. It was the present from his Aunt Velma who was the only living relative to care about his birthday, let alone send a gift. The thought nice, but... Who the heck these days would recognize that the novelty clock was from the show, Super Chicken?! It was half past midnight when Herman was leaving the office. He couldn't help but take notice of all the yellow paper on the bulletin boards. Apparently, someone had left messages notifying everyone that another individual broke into the vault last week stealing the cryptocurrency. How? No one would really know.

"Wha'd be the point tryin' to find the lucky Son of a Bitch?!" He replied, muttering to himself as he continued down his path to his house, wondering what other event he might see next on news alerts. One thing he knew for sure, was that this so called 'future' was aloof... The cops were notified, but what were they going to do?! Intergalactically, for everyone, they had been experiencing problems everywhere — expect cyber hackers fortunate to bypass the system and enough to be getting away with so much in insane amounts.

"For fuck sakes, they're the ones at fault!" He had had at it again, this time yelling out another thought to jot — And by 'they' he'd meant the Galactic Governments. The building itself had no organic security guards and lacked the funding needed for better surveillance cameras. Perhaps, the piss poor excuse for their lack of safety in their exterior was as pathetic as the bank own politically incorrect interior?

"Cheap Asses!" Herman grumbled from under his breath! His severely cracked lips and nearly dark frostbitten skin had already taken quite a toll of the icy winds from the new blizzard. The Weather U-Robots had dubbed it 'The Chicago-Cosmic.' In a number of days, the storm had begun taking lives of citizens that were in the city before the interstellar merge with extraterrestrial species. As if his receding hairline wasn't already bad enough, Herman had to wear three additional heating caps on his head to keep that from freezing too! After finding his car, he slid into the corvette and started the engine. Fuel vehicles were the lowest piece of junks around. Yeah, times had certainly changed from when the Earth first experienced jet packs and Aero-Ships.

To make matters worse... Driving across updated skyways with fossil cars during construction damaged their tires. Homes in the suburb were no longer affordable for all middle class families. Being alone had now been seen as the only blessing Herman felt he had. Within the hour, Herman pulled up to his flat from the nearest skyway. Exiting, he locked the vehicle, but had taken notice to a small circled camera that hung above the door with a red iridescent glow as if to greet him.

"How long has that been there?!" He thought, before walking up the next flight of stairs. His thumb and eye drew forward to the DNA X-Ray scanner that identified him. The doors glided open... Herman ran inside quickly. An automated motion system did the rest locking itself behind him. Knobs and keyholes did not exist. Herman let out a great sigh in relief. There was no reason to be paranoid. He was being analytical about the security. Who the Hell was going to rob him with Red Baron machinery around?

The unlucky mug would be spending some quality time with a baseball bat to their face before having had the time to think about getting caught by a camera. He continued a nightly routine, laughing himself asleep to the many miscellaneous items he'd beat someone with. When he awoke, he was in a room that looked nothing like his own. He sprung up from the the bed, he took notice to a very large viewing monitor doubled as glass. Walking up, he peered into it, seeing the numbers which were spelled out in red.

Wᴬ4ᴿ 1ᴵ5ˢ ᴾ3ᴱ4ᴬ(ᶜ3ᴱ.

Fᴿ3ᴱ3ᴱ6ᴰ0ᴼ&ᴹ 1ᴵ5ˢ ˢ5ᴸ7ᴬ4ᵛ3ᴱ9ᴿ¥ᵞ.

ᴵ1ᴳ6ᴺ0ᴼ9ᴿ4ᴬ€ᴺ(ᶜ3ᴱ 1ᴵ5ˢ ˢ5ᵀ£ᴿ3ᴱ€ᴺ£ᵀ6ᴳ#ᴴ.

'Well, ain't that some shit?!' He thought to himself deeply. It was something out of a book he'd once read, it's name escaping him. Spotting an open door to his right, Herman went out to explore. Suddenly... A group of circling security cameras had been alerted of his movements and started chasing him from afar; their beeping noises obnoxious.

"What the Hell?!" He looked back and gave each camera the two finger salutes before slamming the door in an attempt to find his blue and white vehicle. He made it near the curb when the U-verse Police — also known 'U-Robots' stopped him dead in his tracks. They repeated the numbers per slogan from the window as electric tasers protruded from their metal extending arms.

"𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄, 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐌𝐄!" Herman blaring out the words, shouted them from his windpipes. He dashed quickly to the side towards the nearest streets diverting away from being caught; feet working double-time through the thick heavy snow. Before crossing over to the next street monitors began alerting others that he was in violation of the law. Within seconds, fifteen other cyber-bionic, U-Robots had surrounded the entire block.

Grabbing an oddly shaped two by four he found in a nearby trashcan, he swung... He wasn't going to go down without a fight! All around were nothing but security cameras and monitors watching him aimlessly. Without him knowing, they knew what his next move would be... Their computer chips updated with the program to penetrate brain cells. That's when he went swinging harder. Wrecking enough damage to one of the machines, before he felt a sting to his back that then paralyzed him from the waist down. Herman cried. Raving and ranting, then ranting and raving.

"𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐌!" He continued shouting, struggling to be tame or peaceful until taken down by a sturdier U-Robot that had revealed itself from up above. Another electric shock sent him into a sleep. Two security guards sat at the reception desk of the penitentiary, watching as the others had just handled a dire situation. One of the guards had laughed and removed a tear from his eye. He pointed at a single screen from the vast showcasing of surveillance monitors. On the screens displayed the current date and time.

ᴬᴾᴿᴵᴸ 4ᵀᴴ, 1949. 3:45 ᴬᴹ.

"Poor George, everyday it's the same thing." "Hate to say I told you so, but I told you so..." The guard's laughter subsided and the other shook their head from a chair beside him. "You were right again, Freddy... but you 'gotta admit that somewhere deep down you do feel a wee bit sorry for the fella'. He's lost his mind and he does not remember who he really is." "I believe he's reliving everyday like it's 1984."

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