What do you mean, 150 years

The Ghost put on some spare clothes that Clarity had given him, stuff left over from guys who'd overstayed their welcome. He walked out to the balcony watching the world with Clarity.

"This isn't like the world I left."

"How so?"

"The world was broken, leveled by bombs in 2020, the world was divided, everyone was afraid, scared, my people, the NWO...."

"Hold up, bombs? This will be the 149th anniversary of the Rebirth, at least that's what the politicians are calling it."

The Ghost sat down in the chair next to her, taking the cigarette, he puffed it a few times, and looked at her.

"150 years?"

"Yea dude, you've been gone 150 years."

He nodded looking at the lights across the city, he was trapped, he knew it, was it a joke? No, this was the new reality, the Ghost had been kept on ice for 50 years, seven of which were spent trying to rebuild the world, the last dedicated to fighting the NWO, they probably kept him on ice as some huge middle finger to those who gave their lives trying to be free. He stared at glowing embers of the cigarette, he sighed and took another puff, this was it, he'd lost, ODTA was gone, the former life he led was gone. He was thrust into this new age of cyberpunk reality, something straight out of some anime or a video game, to him, this wasn't a second life, but an alternate reality.

"You, ok? I know this is a lot to absorb all at once, but this world is cruel, you can't dwell on the past, just the focus on the future."

"Yea, thanks for the rescue. Who knows how long I'd be trapped down there if not for you and your friends."

"Don't mention it... Not to pry but what was it like?"

"What was what like?"

"When you roamed the streets, clearly you posed enough of a threat to make a holiday out of your demise."

The Ghost laughed and began telling his story of life before the bombs, then after, all of his adventures, all of the things they'd accomplished. Surviving the bombs, fending of Texas, hurting the NWO. She laughed at most of them as they seemed trivial nowadays. She was most interested when he mentioned their attacks of the young NWO. How they'd liberated the United States, and parts of Europe before...

"Before what?"

"Before Rothschild put a bullet in my chest. I don't remember how I got to that warehouse, nor what happened from then onwards, but here I am."

She laughed and took a swig of her beer. "You know, you might just fit in with our crew."

"Your crew?"

"Yea, we don't a have an official name yet, but you'd make a great addition."

"Sure, because every group needs a 150-year-old popsicle man in it." he laughed.

She polished off the rest of her beer and stood up. "The world can still get some use out of you Ghost, you're not dead yet."

"Yea, I just want to know what happened to my friends."

She smiled and headed back inside and into her room. The Ghost stared off into his new reality. This was exactly what he'd feared, but there was no turning back now.