All I can hear is the unmistakable buzz of the Jai, the world wide link where all the information is stored. I slip the glasses over my eyes, and allow myself to plunge down, down into the night. I see all the other people, doing so at the same time. All of them are looking for news, celebrity gossip, and other brain-rotting garbage. Not me. I'm looking for stories. It's what I do. Life would be so dull without them. I'd give anything to be able to write my own stories, but ever since the Manana... I'm terrified by what I might dream up. I pass a mirror on my way down the Jai's main passage. The glasses over my eyes are so dark, I can barely see, but I know that if I take them off, I will fall right out of the Jai and end up god-knows where. I can feel my hair about my shouders. It used to just be purple, but ever since it happened... the demon... well anyway, now the tips are all the colours of the rainbow. I see a man zoom past. All I can see through my glasses is this vibrant blue hair. He looks straight at me. He's probably wondering why I am looking for stories, not many people like them these days. He can tell, because you can always see what someone is looking for in their glasses. In his glasses, there is one word. Noodle. Thats strange. I think I used to go by that name before. And I'm sure I recognise him, from somewhere...