"This is a waste of time" I think again while flying my ship through the slums of Tharsis, towards my rarely-used home.

Contrary to the castle-like homesteads of those three dust-buckets, my abode is much more modest.

It is where Spike and I used to live together, later joined by… someone else.

Over time I eventually bought out the whole building but I only really use the one apartment.

It's strange; most people would probably expect the holder of the second-highest ranking in the Red Dragon to live like a god.

"What use is there in having an extravagant home? When you wake up, or die as other people call it, all you do is rot."

The apartment is only a few blocks away and I begin to wonder, my body having already taken over the piloting on its own, what it is that's inside the coffin.

If it was just a regular body it would have been buried already, or at the very least, considering how elaborate it is, wouldn't be kept in the depths of a warehouse.

"As much as those corpses look down on me, I doubt they would give me a pointless task just as an attempt to show me some 'humility'."

The rubbery smell of the inside of my ship, Silver Streak, makes it somewhat of a tiring experience to keep my eyes open and watch the sky.

"How many days is this? Five? Seven?" I think to myself, wondering how many nights I've been up.

The longest my body has ever lasted is about nine days, then it collapsed on itself and didn't allow me to move or even think, something that wold probably stress most others out, as it happened while I was being shot at. Luckily, a partner had been there as well.

My hands lower the controls of the ship, bringing it down onto the sidewalk outside the apartment building.

Normally in a place like this it would get stolen the minute I was out of site. In fact, someone did a while ago.

Of course, I didn't just let the person take the ship and keep it. A few hours, and a few calls, later I knew where the person had taken it; a pawn shop.

How someone could be so stupid as to try and sell a space ship, even if only meant for one person, to the owner of a shop where the biggest thing he has is a tabletop Buddha statue I'm unsure of. But that's what he did.

"He said he needed the money for his family but even if it wasn't for drugs or something I didn't really care."

I think about it and my mouth curves upwards slightly.

First I shot the man, having not made the switch to blades by that point, and then I killed the pawn-shop owner, just to make a statement. For the hell of it I set the building on fire and gave them a nice cozy funeral pyre.

It worked too. After that one little instance no one has given my spacecraft so much as a second glance after I land it.

Silver Streak settles down completely on the aged concrete and I flip a switch.

A hiss sounds out in the small flight deck and a second later the Evlo-glass door on my left slides out and allows me to exit.

Evlo-glass is a material somewhat similar to ancient Plexiglas, but it's much tougher and completely airtight, something needed in crafts that go into space. They are even used in the massive spaceships that are meant to harbor smaller ones like mine.

I grab the hilt of the katana by my side and pull it out of its stuck position inside the ship, stepping down out of the vehicle onto the pavement.

Looking around it seems like no one is nearby and I twist the key in the ship's ignition, turning it off.

"I hate it when there's nothing to do. It's like dreaming about cleaning the house; there isn't any excitement."

I pull the key out of the ignition and slide it into a pocket in my coat before stepping away from the aircraft, the door closing automatically once I've walked a few feet away.

The apartment building doesn't have much of a design; it's made of brick possibly older than those three ancient "elders" and the once-prevalent red tone of them has faded to a warm-colored brown similar to the appearance of clay. Possibly the only feature on the exterior that stands out is the dozen or so steps that lead to old boarded-up double doors.

Walking up the steps, my eyes wander and notice something somewhat shiny to the side of the steps; its once-golden sheen dulled to a dirty bronze.

The goblet-like cup has words engraved on it which, despite my best efforts, I begin to read.

"Billiards competition co-winners, Vicious and Spi-"

I reach the doors and breath heavy, waiting a few seconds.

My eyes roll from one thing to another until I manage to open the door, yanking the elderly-wooden construct on its squeaky hinges open.

Stepping inside, I push the door closed again and then turn around, reaching out and turning the first lock. The hand continues to the second, and then the third, the fourth, the fifth.

Half-a-dozen more and I put a board through two braces on both doors and turn around again, now facing the staircase.

It, like the outside, is not all that interesting. The rectangular dull-colored steps lead up to one corner, then turn to the left and continue.

The apartments of the building are all on the second floor and higher, only one door and one apartment per floor, until it reaches the tenth and top floor, where I live, and where a second rotting piece of board leads up to the roof.

At the bottom on the first floor are a utility closet and a padlocked door to the basement of the building. As well as what's obviously the entrance and exit to the relatively-small complex.

My legs drag themselves up through the air before letting gravity pull them down to the step above and continue doing so as I ascend the staircase.

"I wonder if the coffin will be secure out in my ship. Though it'll keep any of those street-urchins away if there really is someone after it, or possibly even another syndicate, a trunk lid won't do much in the ways of protecting it."

I shake my head and keep making my way up towards the top floor.

"There's no reason to worry about it; just another meaningless thing in this meaningless life. If people come after it I'll have something to do. If they don't I wait until those dust-figures give me a different assignment or I find another thing to keep me busy."

Finally I make it to the top floor and my eyes gaze up at the door, somehow seeming to be the best-taken-care-of but still the ugliest one in the building.

"Heh. Whatever." I say while pulling the door open.

There is a lock and a key for the door but I have no use for them as no one would ever try and come after me anyway.

"It's too bad. I miss the days when random strangers would try to come and mug or murder me all the time. It gave things an enjoyable variety of events to look forward to in the day."

The apartment, while larger than the others, could hardly be considered along the lines of a penthouse suite; a hallway with bare wooden floorboards, crème-colored walls and four doors that lead to the bathroom, kitchen, bedroom and apartment hall are what it consists of.

A couch, a bed, an aged radio, the oven, refrigerator and some lights are the only real furnishings. Though there is a window in the bedroom.

I don't particularly care though as I pull off my coat and toss it across the hall onto the couch and open the door to the bedroom.

Passing the closet that stores my clothes; I twist my body and lie down on the bed, leaning the katana against the side of it as I do so.

My eyes stare up at the ceiling as I try to go to sleep. But despite how tired my body is, my mind isn't willing to rest.

"If it isn't some kind of drug perhaps it is a new type of weapon; an experimental one that those "van" don't want anyone else to have."

The eyes drift close and my mind goes blank.

Honestly, they're tired of looking at the ceiling.

I'm tired of looking at the world that it belongs to.

"It's all just a dream. When the end of it comes, we wake up."

I scoff.

"I must be a deep sleeper."