Chapter 1:

Welcome to Dome Town


**Warning for profanity**

““Dome Town the city of tomorrow!

The glowing city in the middle of the desert wasteland known as Dune. The city consists and is separated by wards with widely different looks!

Ward 1, the center of the prosperous Dome Town, a neon colored place with the huge modern skyscrapers signaling the future of man to a better future, with the buildings and streets having the recurring color of yellow, Ward 1 is truly a sight to behold. Ward 2, a plain and snowy place consisting of only small buildings for barracks and government purposes and the red flags of the GREAT government prominently scattered across the area. Ward 3, a japanese neighborhood style place with mainly blue colored roofs, this is the place where the happy normal citizens of Dome Town would stay at. And then Ward 4. those are the w–””

A grumpy old man in his bathrobe, throws an empty can of beer to the head of the man sitting on the couch watching the commercial. “Shut that goddam government propaganda ad down goddammit!”

“GODDAMMI- YOU REALLY NEED TO SORT OUT YOUR PILLS OLD MAN!” the man shouts back as he flips through another channel.

“blah blah blah—“ The old man mimics a blabbing sock puppet with his hand as he walks over to the kitchen to get a can of beer “… Child. I would’ve beaten the shit out of you by now if I were the same age as you.”

“WELL… Your past your prime old man!” the young man stands up from the couch.

“ÄND YOU DON’T HAVE A PRIME YOUR A GODDAM LOSER THROUGH AND THROUGH DEREK!” The old man then throws the can of beer directly at the head of Derek who just stood up.

The sliding door then opens, “You’re in your 20’s for god sake, Derek. why are you still arguing with the old man over here?” A tall looking figure emerges, with a fit but slim body and orange hair.

“The old man is acting up again mehnn.” Derek stands back up glaring at the old man who just ignores his glare.

“Well you should’ve told him to sort out his pills.”

the old man scoffs at the tall man’s comment.

“I literally just did before you came.” He walks in front of the tall man reaching his hand out.

“Oh shi- yeah… uhhh” He searches through his grocery bag.

“Oh come on mehn! You always forget the stuff I tell you to buy--”

As the other two argue, the old man walks up the stairs to the rooftop to have a smoke. As the light, heavily polluted night breeze thrashes around his bathrobe almost like a cape.

Atop the roof of their abandoned factory, and where the old man stood, he can feel and fully see the city and the neon lights of the buildings, billboards, and the holograms of Ward 1, almost looking like a never-ending party that would hook you and never let go. The buildings looked taller than the sky itself and looked as if it was devoured by the sky’s darkness.

He looked at those very buildings and stood there reminiscing about his early years of being an AMAZING man before he got his child as he smoked and he sighed, “Fuck… I JUST thought of good comebacks...”

A huge ruckus could be heard inside the abandoned factory yet he did not bother to look as a bullet penetrated through his skull.

Alex Ryback, at age sixty, has died from a bullet through the head.
Shot about 4 wards away equal to four cities away. Shot from a house in Ward 4 by the best sniper around, Snake Hands.

“Aight! Well… that’s it for today.” Snake Hands said as he stood up and took a bite from his donut.

Buzzing noises could be heard from the radio inside of the room Snake Hands was in. ”Sheeesh! Your devil contract is really broken. That deal was worth i--”

“If they didn’t take my eyes, then yes it was worth it.” He interrupted the man in the radio as he cleaned his fingers after eating the whole donut.

“What was the full deal anyways Mr. Snake Hands.”

“My eyes in exchange for a guaranteed hit no matter the impossibility of the angle or range I shoot the bullets from and only bullets.”

“Well… damn sir, I probably should get a contract too then.”

“Eh your probably gonna get scammed or something if you don’t know what you’re doing and people usually lose a lot through the contracts that’s why I don’t really recommend it.”

“Oh okay… Barry told me the same thing.”

“Yeah you should probably listen to Barry.”

Later in the morning, in a playground somewhere in Ward 3, a man wearing office clothing lays down on the bench next to the vending machine, tired and bored, he complains, “I wanna quit my job so bad… shit is tirin as hell. 2 years in, got cucked, dreams crushed, scammed, shitty boss after shitty boss… ughhhhh.” He ruffles his hair violently as he sits up getting annoyed just thinking about all of that.

He looks down at the grown and mopes till a shadow slowly creeps up in front of him and a pair of tiny legs that look as if it were from a little girl, crosses in his peripheral vision.

“Hey, young man.”

“What the-” He looks up to see a little girl with black hair, red spiraling eyes wearing a black seifuku set for middle schoolers.

“Fight for me.”

“The hell are you talking about—kids be weird these days.” He shook his head.

“I'm older than you.”

He sighs, “Not even surprised.”

“I was joking.”

“Okay what do you want kid or grandma or wutever.” He gets annoyed even more on top of getting annoyed at the thoughts he just had earlier.

“Fight for m-”

“Did not ask.” The man interrupted as he stood up to leave.