(Note: Credits go to /u/blahgarfogar on Reddit for the setting of the city of Aventine and any characters or plot points I use from his Aventine play by post campaign)

Aventine. It's a place where all your dreams can come true, for a price. Slick high rise buildings of wrought glass shimmering in beautiful neon and framed by streaks of rain - the city never stops moving. But for those at the bottom, away from the penthouses and cocktail parties and airships, life is cheap. A brutal struggle as every man and woman fights for a place at the table.

2060. 8 AM. The Proving Grounds

A bunch of men and women were standing in formation, dressed in blue T shirts and black cargo pants. Fresh off the bus and already soaked. It's always raining in Aventine.

A man with a bull neck and wearing a wide brimmed hat stood in front of the group.

"You, Slim. Step forward. Yeah I'm talking to you dipshit." The Sarge barked, veins popping out from his red neck.

A young man of East Asian descent stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back. Angular face, tall and thin like a reed.

"Sir."

"Shit, you are one scrawny motherfucker." Sarge said, walking up to the man and pacing around him. "Tell me, why did you decide to sign up and disgrace my beloved academy?"

"Sir! I joined the APD to make something of myself sir!" The man stiffened up, straightened out his posture.

Sarge gave a little snort. His eyes brushed over the recruit from head to bottom. They lingered over something colorful. He tapped the man's arm, face contorted in disgust. "What's this?"

"Sir. A tattoo sir." A dragon of red and dark blue ink crawled up around his left arm.

"Uh huh. You part of some gang, maggot?" Sarge scowled, bringing his face within inches of the recruit's, hot breath expelling on his face. Smelled like crab cakes.

"No sir. I left that life behind, sir."

Sarge squinted exaggeratedly at the name tag the man was wearing.

"Jen Knee She Mow Toe." Sarge said, enunciating each syllable slowly. "Hooooly Christ on a cracker that's a goddamn mouthful! Where you from, Jenny?"

A few of the guys started snickering.

"Don't call me that." The man said, voice low and edged with venom. "It's Gen. Gen Nishimoto. Hard G, like in Gary. Born and raised in Aventine."

"What was that? Say it again Jen. Because I know you did not just talk back to me, Jen." Sarge cupped an ear and made a show of leaning in.

"Fuck you."

For a few seconds, there was a pindrop silence, broken only by the light pitter patter of the rain on the nearby rooftops, and the sound of rushing water thru its gutter pipes.

Sarge blinked a few times.

Then, his scowl darkened before turning into a shit eating grin for he now had a reason to punish the unit, which was exactly what he was fishing for. Never gets old, hazing the FNGs.

"LISTEN UP GENTLEMEN! ALL of you are getting smoked this morning. And y'all can thank Mister Jenny Knee She for it! 10 laps around the academy! Do it now! That means you! The lesbian with neon hair! Get moving! You too, move your ass, fatso!"

The unit groaned and started dispersing, shooting glares at Gen as they passed.

Gen started to leave too but was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder. Sarge hissed into his ear, "You pull a stunt like that again and you're done. You hear me Gen?" He actually pronounced it right. Huh.

"...Sir." All Gen could do was nod. He saw what Sarge's game was now. It wasn't personal.

...

"Motherfucker." Gen muttered as he trotted along the track encircling the academy. His boots sloshed against the rippling puddles, breath exiting in hot vapors. Sweat mixed with acid rain trickled down his back. Smells like ammonia. It's no secret the homeless and junkies use the streets of Aventine as their own giant urinal.

"Hey Jenny Knee She He-She. Shoulda kept your mouth shut." One of his fellow recruits ran up to his side and punched him hard in the arm.

"Oh, fuck off." Gen replied, rubbing at the fresh bruise blossoming across his upper arm.

He rounded a corner and was met by another trio of tough guys, arms crossed and blocking the way.

The fat one spoke first.

"You stupid Jap. It's all your fault we're out running in this fucking rain."

"Dumbass." The skinny one chimed in.

The third stepped up, jabbed a finger into Gen's chest. "Why don't you just quit, fuckin crybaby. Do us all a favor. You're obviously not APD material if that's all it took for Sarge to get under your skin."

Gen knew he was right, and that just made him angrier.

So he grabbed the guy's finger and twisted it, holding him in a submission lock.

"Agh! Wh- what the fuck, man!" He groaned.

"Don't you fucking touch me." Gen's eyes narrowed into slits.

"Shit man, he knows Kung Fu or some shit!"

"Bro, look at his arm... He's Banshee, gotta be. Bad news."

"Let me go dude! I'm s-sorry, okay! I'm sorry!" Tears began welling out from the edges of his wide, terrified eyes.

Gen released the hold, and his victim swiftly recoiled backwards, rubbing his finger and hiding behind his friends. "Get lost." Gen spat the words out, shaking his head.

"Th-this ain't over! We're telling Sarge about this!" They yelled, turning tail.

"You do that, and I'll break all your fingers." Gen said. He was bluffing, of course. He'd sworn to his father that he'd give up that life. That he wouldn't go down that path.

He was just about to get going again when he heard a low whistle and slow clapping, coming from behind.

"Yo, that was badass." Female voice, clear like a bell yet warm with a tinge of that soothing depth you'd usually hear from late night radio hosts.

He turned around.

Oh. That was the "lesbian with neon hair" Sarge called out earlier. She was actually pretty, on closer inspection. Skin as pale as porcelain, a nice complement to her jet-black hair. Body's athletic. Oval face, thin, slightly pointed nose, green eyes. Raven hair cut short, kept in a bob that just barely goes past her ears. It's highlighted with strands of colorful neon hairs concentrated at the right side of her head.

Frankly? He thought the neon strands looked stupid.

"I'm Missy. You're... Gen, was it?" She asked, playing coy.

"Yeah. A pleasure." He said, shaking her hand.

They began running side by side.

"Y'know, not very smart, talking to Sarge like that." She was in shape, talking while running without heavy breaths.

Gen sighed. "I know. I regret it. He was testing me."

"Jenny Knee She Mow Toe." She said, impersonating and mocking Sarge, exaggerating the Southern accent.

Gen snickered, despite himself. "Ha. Cut that out, asshole might be listenin' in."

"You know that's gonna go on your record right?" Green eyes encircled with heavy black eyeliner glanced over to him as they ran. "Recruit has issues with authority. Recruit has a short temper and lack of self-control..." She assumed a mock clinical tone, doing her best shrink impression.

Gen waved it off. "I topped the entering class on the prelim exams- written and physical. That's gotta count for something." He muttered. "In any case, I won't slip up again."

"You better not. I would hate to see you get sent home." She said, giving him a smile.

And Gen stared back, feeling his cheeks flush slightly, puzzled as to why.

...

2061. A few months later - Downtown

The air was thick with a pleasant smell. That rich and comforting smell of roasted coffee beans and freshly baked pastries.

Gen sat at a small booth, tucked in the corner adjacent to the windows, sipping on a coffee. He turned the page, as he sipped. There was a low atmospheric jazz playing in the background, completing the comfy mood. A fire crackled at the hearth, providing a warm orange glow. Rain streaked down the window, and crowds of people were constantly shuffling by, just outside it.

Missy was sat across from him. Dressed in a gray band shirt, black skinny jeans and sneakers, she looked more like a punk than an APD cadet.

Gen wasn't any better. Had a similarly dark hued hoodie draped over him, black jeans and tennis shoes. Just didn't have the money to dress fancy, at the time.

They were on their third date after going steady- at Missy's favorite cafe. Place called The Oasis. It was both a cafe, and a library lounge, with shelves of books lining the walls. Analog books and coffee. The establishment was a nostalgic relic of the past. But he liked the feeling of yellowed paper physically between his fingers.

"How was your book?" Missy asked, having closed hers with a dull thud.

Gen put his coffee mug down. "Pretty good actually. Yours?"

"Eh. Ending was a little disappointing. Seems like tragic endings are the flavor of the month for authors today." Missy said, pulling something out of her purse.

"Ha. Yeah, I honestly prefer happy endings too."

Missy found what she was looking for, dug out the pack. And lit up.

"I didn't know you smoked." Gen said, frowning slightly as he waved away the smoke and new, offensive odor of burnt nicotine invading the warm notes of coffee and fresh pastries.

"Yeah, I smoke. Is that gonna be a problem?" Missy asked, cigarette sticking out the corner of her mouth.

"I mean… It's real bad for you, isn't it?" Gen said, coughing slightly from the secondhand smoke.

"Sure it is. But it feels good. Is this gonna be a deal-breaker?"

"No… it's just- I'm surprised is all. You never smoked at all on our first two dates."

"Can't scare you off until I've got you on the hook." She said with a sly smile.

Gen had to smile at that, despite how he felt about her smoking. "Well, least you didn't turn out to be some kinda nightshade fiend."

"Exactly. I mean, they screen your piss to look for that anyway at the Academy."

"Right." Gen gave up on waving away the smoke and tried to sip on more of his coffee to mask the odor.

"Wanna try one?" She asked, holding up the carton with one of the cigs sticking out.

"I dunno…It kinda stinks."

"Not gonna force you." She started putting it away.

"Wait. Okay, fuck it." When in Rome… "Give it here." He snatched one out from the carton, stuck it in his mouth, and clumsily leaned over for Missy to light his up with her e-lighter.

"ACK. Pbbt" Cough "Shit! It's like sandpaper's grating thru my chest!"

A peal of laughter rang out from Missy. "Haha! Give it a bit."

Gen took another shaky drag, trying to hold it in a bit this time before exhaling. And he started feeling it. Feeling more alert than he ever felt before. Feeling good.

"Well? It's a buzz, huh." Missy said, blowing another cloud of smoke at him.

"Yeah." Gen took another drag. "Even better than coffee."

"Mhm. Welcome to the light, Jenny."

"You're not gonna let that one go, are you?" Gen groaned, as he took another clumsy drag of his cigarette, and stumbling into another fit of coughs.

"As long as it still gets a reaction I won't." She teased.

Gen sighed, but a small smile spread across his nicotine-stained lips.

….

2063. 7:35 PM. Aventine First National Bank

A cluster of police cruisers were lined up and cordons were set blocking traffic within a 2 mile radius. It was pouring tonight, like usual. The stars were choked out by heavy stormclouds and the ever present light pollution.

Rain hammered the roofs of the cars, pattering rhythmically off the metal.

An unmarked coupe pulled up and a suited man stepped out, followed by a young woman. Both plainclothes, by the look of it. Sentinels.

"Nishimoto. Thank God you're here." Sergeant Gerry said, wringing the rain out from his patrolman's hat.

"Sitrep."

"Got at least 4 of them in there. Armed and dangerous."

"Why haven't you sent in SWAT?"

"They've got hostages, Gen."

Fuck.

"Motive?"

"Just a robbery gone bad. They're just after the money."

Not an anarchist group nor terrorists. Okay. Should be an easier negotiation.

"Here's the megaphone. Heard you Sentinels were best of the best at this kinda thing. We're counting on you."

The Sergeant handed over a wired megaphone to Gen, before returning to his firing position behind the armored van, shotgun ready.

Flashing blue and red lights washed over him in waves. Missy gave his shoulder a squeeze. "You got this babe."

He adjusted his tie. Took a breath. Then spoke.

"Come out with your hands up! We have you surrounded. Surrender now, and I can guarantee your safety. It doesn't have to be this way! Just put your guns down, and step out in front with your hands in the air. Okay?"

A muffled voice from inside the bank calls out in reply. "GO FUCK YOURSELF!"

"I'm sure you have loved ones waiting for you at home. Don't do this to them. Don't let it end here."

"F-fuck you, pig!"

"It's okay. It will be okay. Just step on out and you can see your family again."

"NO! I can't go back in. I just can't." His voice is desperate. Scared.

"I've been there, you know. Grew up in a bad area. Fell in with the wrong crowd. Made some bad decisions. But look at me now. It's never too late to do what's right. Give yourself up. And live."

"... You promise you won't shoot?"

"Promise. I will personally protect you. You're not a bad guy. You're just trying to make ends meet. I wouldn't let someone like that die. Let the hostages go, and surrender."

"... Alright. Okay. We're coming out. D-don't shoot okay? We still got the hostages."

The front double doors of the bank slowly inched open, and immediately the cops behind the line of patrol cars tensed up.

A hand poked out, then a leg. And finally, all four men were out front, each one holding a hostage, gun pointed at their heads.

"Target in our sights. Get them to let go of the hostages, and we got a clear shot."

Gen held a finger up to his earpiece. "Copy that."

The robbers had already killed several hostages in the bank, and killed several officers responding to the call. And for that, they will die.

Gen began speaking into the megaphone again.

"Alright, we see you. Just go ahead and let the hostages go, and drop your weapons. It'll be okay. We'll get cuffs on you, get you warm and dry. You must be hungry right? You've been stuck in there awhile. We'll get you fed. Let you call your family. It's okay."

The four robbers looked at each other, fear and uncertainty playing across their eyes.

There was a thick tension in the air. For a moment, it seemed like they were going to try to shoot their way out.

But finally, they let go, and the hostages ran screaming towards the cops.

BANG.

And immediately a bullet ripped through the center of their skulls. Four synchronized shots from snipers perched in hidden nests in the building across the bank. They collapsed like puppets with its strings cut, blood oozing on the ground and diluting with the rain.

They made the mistake of trusting the cops.

Another job well done for Gen, a rising star amongst the Sentinels of the APD.

...

2065 Gen's Apartment

His hands were shaking. He read the note over and over again, not believing his eyes.

We know you been sniffing around. Poking your nose where it don't belong. Stop it, if you know what's good for you. And if you care about your little bitch of a girlfriend, you'll do as I say. Call off the investigation. Destroy the evidence you've gathered on us and bring us a million $$. You have 24 hours.

Attached to the HOLO message was a picture of Missy, bound and gagged.

"SHIT!" Gen threw his HOLO on the ground, scrambling towards the restroom to throw some water on his face.

"How could I let this happen? I slipped up. God fucking damn it!" He smashed his fist against the vanity mirror, shattering it. His arms have long been amputated and replaced by cybernetic prosthetics, ever since he joined the Sentinels. They transferred the skin (and tattoo) over to the cybernetic arms, at least.

He leaned over, arms resting on the sink. Mind racing.

Trembling hands fished for a cig in his coat pocket and he brought it to his mouth, taking a few desperate shaky drags before exhaling in a shuddering sigh, filling the bathroom with smoke.

"FUCK!"

"Unit K-1 we have eyes on the target. Nishimoto, on your word."

"Full copy. Hold fire until she's clear."

"10-4."

Gen approached the suited men, hands raised in the air and carrying a black briefcase, filled to the brim with cash.

"Here. It's all there." Gen dropped the case to the ground and kicked it over.

"And the evidence?" The one holding Missy said, gun pressed firmly to her temple.

Tears were streaming down the edges of her eyes, smearing her eyeliner. Her mouth was gagged, and all she could do was let out muffled yells.

"Wiped. You're a ghost now. No records of your outfit in the APD archives anymore. I hacked in and scrubbed it all."

"Good… Very good."

"Your turn. Hand her over."

The man clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Tsk tsk tsk. You Sentinels always think you've got it all figured out huh? Motherfucker, do you think I was born yesterday?"

He immediately squeezed the trigger, and Missy's brains exploded out the side of her head like a champagne with its cork popped.

"NO! WHAT THE FUCK!" Gen screamed, immediately drawing his gun and diving behind a dumpster as bullets began to rain.

"You maroni. You think I don't know about your butt buddies up on that roof ova there?"

"Unit K-2 reporting in, we got hostiles firing on our positions, they had eyes on us.."

The rest of the team radioed in similar situations.

Sniper rounds blitzed through the air but were caught by a thick deployable forcefield cover that the mobster had thrown down. It was only able to absorb two to three rounds before shattering, but bought enough time for him to dive behind some cover.

"I TOLD you to come alone. Fuckin' money's prob tagged to shit too."

"MOTHERFUCKER!" Gen ducked out of cover and began shooting.

"Unit K-1 what's the situation, over."

"FUCKING SHOOT THEM." Gen growled back into the earpiece.

"...Copy."

Despite their preparations, the mobsters were soon wiped out in a protracted and bloody firefight, the APD elite snipers on overwatch picking off the mobsters one by one as Gen held his ground and drew fire. One of the rushed Gen's position with a shotgun. Cybernetic arms smashed against the barrel of the shotgun as it peaked around the corner of the dumpster, bending it to shit. He followed it up with a palm strike to the bottom of the goon's jaw, shattering it instantly and sending him up a good 3 feet in the air before he landed with a wet crunch.

By the end of it all, there lay several bodies bleeding and moaning. But a few of them managed to slip away.

Gen ran up to Missy's side.

Jesus fucking Christ, the poor thing was still breathing, half her face blown away.

Gen suppressed a gag.

The twitching Missy turned her eyes up to Gen, not really registering what she was seeing.

"Oh God. Oh no, no. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Missy."

I should have listened. Should've just given up the APD. Then maybe you would've lived.

"Please…" Tears dripped down upon her face, mixing with the blood.

He held her bloodied hand. It was already cold.

She breathed her last.

And he screamed, mind shattered.

It was the end of an era. The end of Gen Nishimoto, the rising Sentinel and star of the APD.

But it was also the beginning...