Fists

For the majority of people in Sector 3, the day had started normally. 

The sun rose, its beautiful rays illuminating the entire sector. Hover cars zipped through the sky, their rumble a familiar background noise as people commuted to work or school. 

Automated vendors set up along the neon lit streets, selling meals and advanced gadgets, while drones flitted around delivering goods to towering residential blocks.

Holo screens flickered to life in public spaces, broadcasting the morning news and advertisements for the latest innovations. Citizens, dressed in various styles, strolled through the bustling city center. The atmosphere was a mix of happiness and frustration, as it often was.

To everyone in Sector 3, it was just another day, one that would end as boring and predictable as usual.

However, words could not begin to describe how much they would soon wish that had been true. But reality, as always, was cruel.