I realised rather quickly that it was probably a mistake going barefoot on this mission.

Much of my time spent in City Three would be navigating the canals if all went according to plan, and there was a lot of hazardous waste strewn about in the dried-up channel ways, specifically broken glass from bottles that had been tossed over from the streets above. Most would normally think it was a ludicrous idea to go barefoot in the first place, but I was rather accustomed to this. I had spent much of my life without footwear; my clawed toes played a critical role in my ability to climb and grip the ground, a skill that was required when climbing the giant trees of Fortuna and its treacherous cliffsides.

My boots had inhibited me from accessing this skill, and in turn, affected my efficiency―particularly in fights or when making quick escapes. I believed I had come to City Three prepared, only to be reminded that I was in a grungy urban environment and not a deciduous landscape. My paws were callused and rough from the lifestyle I lived, though I doubted they could step on glass shards or rusty nails and not bleed out profusely. I determined that I was definitely going to fashion myself some new sandals when all of this was done; they had always been the perfect compromise.

If keeping my feet from getting torn up wasn't a big enough challenge by itself, I still had to be wary of the Combine spotting me down here, for much of the canal was exposed to the open air and divided the streets. All any civilian or metro cop had to do was simply look over either edge and spot me. It was a stressful half-hour dashing from cover to cover, which mostly consisted of slabs of concrete in the sand, large shrubs, and the occasional old car or lorry that wound up down here through…whatever circumstances made them end up down here in the first place.

I had traversed nearly a quarter mile of the dried-up canals before I finally made it to the long-awaited break in topography. The canal was now leading underneath the city, and according to Dejon's map, there was a sewer main in there that would take me favourably closer to the airstrip, I knew that my destination was close because I could see the tip of that radio tower in the distance over all the buildings. I was rather looking forward to the shade.

I took a small break in the relative safety of this cavernous environment as I rubbed my temples gently to subdue a headache I felt was brewing. Outputting so much psionic effort could be a taxing ordeal over long periods of usage, but I had to keep scanning the streets to make sure no one was gaining the compulsion to look down into the dried-up canal and spot me. It was a refreshing moment of solace being the only voice in my head again, though the grand acoustics of this tunnel made the Overwatch voice that was broadcasting announcements outside much more booming and annoying.

After the brewing tension in my head had gone away, requiring no more than a minute of my time and care, I resumed my march through the darkness of the underground in search of the sewer main, igniting a flame on the end of my staff to light my way. While there were lights on down here along the walkway ledges higher up, I used my torch to look for hazards in the sand below my feet, which was now refreshingly cool and moist to the touch coming off from a hot sunbaked sandy terrain outside. I moved through this subterranean realm for a few minutes or so, still keeping a keen eye out for glass or other debris until an assortment of small soft lights appeared around the bend of the tunnel in front of me.

Robots had no mind for me to read, so I was quite startled when I saw a lone city scanner suddenly appear as it glided down the canal way in my direction. I quickly snuffed out my flame before it could fully round the corner and ran for cover, which happened to be a few empty fuel drums near the wall to my left. I watched it fly by leisurely, emitting low humming sounds as it showed a small yet focused spotlight on the ground. I worried that it would find my newly made pawprints a point of suspicion, but it did not regard any of that and continued down towards the daylight at the end of the tunnel.

I sighed a breath of relief and resumed my underground journey. Dejon had warned that scanners patrolled the canals simi-regularly, which served as a reminder that I still wasn't safe down here. The Combine had eyes everywhere, even beneath the streets, but they had their blind spots. That scanner back there proved it to me. It was just a matter of learning how to exploit them.

I had eventually found the sewer tunnel that would take me closer to the airstrip, and climbing up to it was as easy as pie having claws on my feet again to assist in gripping the walls.

After an uneventful trek through a much narrower tunnel, illuminated by my flaming spear end and the occasional florescent light, I finally reached a latter up against a wall, with bold red text painted on it that spelt out in Earth letters: "ACCESO SUPERFICIAL". I didn't know what it said, but it most definitely signified that this latter led straight up to the surface.

The closer I climbed to the ceiling, the clearer the thoughts of the humans above became, and I realised just before I reached the metal sewer cover that I wound up behind a blockade where two metro cops were stationed. I hesitated to breach the street for a moment for this very reason, but I couldn't remain down here forever. Braving the smallest attempt at getting my bearings, I slowly lifted the cover up with my head, and through the small opening I made I saw that fifteen yards away were two metro cops leaning against a large APC that was parked by a fortified barricade with a small doorway in front of it.

Chatter had been sounding off in the coms within their masks, but neither of them were engaging with it. They had their backs to me, but one always glanced at the other, making me reluctant to lift the cover entirely. They would most surely hear me, which was why I believed that a little magic was needed here.

I sunk my head back down for just a moment while I deployed my staff. Wanting to put its newly learned ability to use, I initiated its gravity-manipulating field and gently began to lift the manhole cover-up into the air, not making even the faintest sound. A hazy field of energy was encased around the cover, produced by the gems in my staff, appearing eerily similar to the beams emitted by the confiscation field back at the depot. It still amazed me how my staff was able to learn and improve itself, as this was not the first instance in which my staff dawned abilities it didn't previously have.

"Have you seen the new OF-99?" one of the officers down by the barricade said to his fellow bored officer, oblivious to my emergence onto the street. I watched them both intensely as I carefully climbed out of the sewer, all the while lifting a heavy metal disk right above my head with a magic beam.

"No, I haven't. But a friend of mine did," the other replied. "Well…he almost did, anyway."

"What stopped him?"

"He OD'd on stims. Had to be rolled away in his own paddy wagon I hear. He had two weeks' worth of rations deducted because of it. Was forced to ingest with a tube."

"Hell man, that's harsh."

"Life's a drag."

"Gross…"

Now fully out onto the street, I spotted an alleyway close behind me, and I sensed nobody down that way. Perhaps this barricade had something to do with the relative lack of people I felt beyond this point behind me. My paws kept my cautious strides real quiet as I backed up into the alley and out of view, though I still hadn't let go of the cover.

I wasn't quite sure what exactly spurred me to it, because it was an incredibly reckless idea, but I had the compulsion to make the day a little more interesting for these two jaded officers. Focusing more of my will into my staff, I commanded the beam to drift the manhole cover over the APC, and the officers still did not suspect a thing. I suppose I meant it earlier when I told my staff that we were going to cause some mischief.

With one violent jerk downward with my staff, I made the manhole cover smash into the APC with a sickening metallic bang, pocking it quite effectively, and predictably making the officers nearly jump out of their boots.

"SHIT!"

"'DA HELL?!" they both wailed as I ran down the alley, laughing to myself all the way as I vanished down the shady alleyway. I still wasn't quite sure why I stopped to do that, but I believe that Earth was severely starved of hijinks such as that. There was hardly any laughter in this world anymore, and it was a real pity that I was the only one who got something out of what I just did.

It wasn't long before I began longing for the sewers again.

I may have gotten a moment of isolation when I emerged onto that street a few blocks back, but I found myself becoming cornered on all sides by civilians out on the street and in the buildings. Although I wasn't seen and kept close to the shadows, there was no way I was going to make it to the airstrip at the precautious pace I was going, where I practically spent five minutes in between spots while waiting for an opening to sprint out to before huddling away in another alley.

I couldn't see the radio tower anymore having been obscured by vibrant buildings around me, and I had little faith that another sewer route would be of much help this time. I was about to settle on climbing up to the rooftops and do my best to navigate my way above street level, though I was certain that city scanners would likely catch me in the act in one way or another. However, moments before when I was about to climb up the first gutter spout I saw, I was interrupted by a harrowing commotion close by.

The muffled chatter of civil protection and a woman screaming bounced around the narrow corridors of the two buildings I was nestled in between, and I was naturally inclined to investigate with tremendous earnestness. I peered around a corner by a few crumpled trash bins and stumbled across a courtyard, where an altercation between two civilians―a man and a woman―and three metro cops was unfolding before my eyes. The man was on the ground with his hands over his head while the woman was being restrained by one of the three officers, and not in a very gentle manner.

"You've made a mistake; we didn't do anything! You've mixed us up with someone else," the man pleaded, his voice shaky and in fear over what they were doing with the woman, whom I quickly learned was his wife after an impulsive read of his swirling mind.

"You won't get off easy lying to us, citizen," the officer kneeling over the man said coldly, the distortion in his filtered voice amplifying his threatening demeanour. "There was a miscount in her building; one more citizen was in a place he wasn't supposed to be, and the cameras showed a face that looked a lot like yours. Care to explain what you planned to do in there? We are being generous in only singling you out."

"She's my wife, you psycho!" the husband hissed with rage, hardly able to maintain his submissive position, though the officer with the stun baton next to him kept him from lashing out. "Her aid rations ran out and I was going to give her mine. She needs them more than me…"

The officer restraining his wife had a tight arm around her neck; her eyes were red with tears as she watched what was happening before her. I could hardly stomach this myself and was tempted to act on it. "No citizen may receive additional rations that are not prescribed to them. If her rations have depleted, she will receive more during her next renewal date at the end of the month."

"That's not quick enough!" the husband shouted in desperation. "She'll have a seizure if she doesn't get what she needs. She needs my meds, dammit! Give her my meds!"

"Keep this up if you want a non-compliance verdict ascribed to you."

"Fuck you! Give her my fucking meds!"

The officer then put his index finger up by a transmitter that connected his mask to his helmet. "487J, we have a disruptive denizen unwilling to comply with federal regulations. File claim for ration and spousal credit reductions. Immediate separation to be enforced and administrate relocation voucher."

"Yous son of a bitch!" the husband roared with fury as he shot to his feet with lightning speed and tackled the officer to the ground.

"Ricky! No!" his wife cried out in terror as she watched him momentarily gain the upper hand, landing a few good punches on the officer before the one holding the machine gun stepped over and yanked the man back by his collar. He threw him to the ground and began beating him mercilessly with his stun baton, showing the concrete ground with sparks as Ricky hollered in crippling agony as his wife screamed and begged them to stop. That's when pure instinct kicked in for me.

With my staff deployed and in hand, I rushed out behind my cover and made a mad dash for these thugs. My brazing entrance proved to be quite the head-turner. "What the―?!" the officer beating the man exclaimed before I whacked him on the side of the head and he toppled over unconscious. The officer restraining the wife shoved her aside so he could point and fire his sidearm at me, but I conjured my shield and deflected all of his frantic shots until his magazine ran out, which was when I punted him in the stomach and kicked his knees in, making him collapse as his mask produced a flatline sound, though I sensed that he was still alive.

I also sensed the officer who had been intimidating the husband just beginning to stir from his brief daze, though I whirled my staff around and bashed the side of his head without even looking back at him. My heart raced as I finally settled down from that blitz, holding my head briefly before I was able to properly sense the terrorized couple reconvening with each other and directing their fear to a new source.

I turned around and saw Ricky and Brenda huddling up together on the ground, holding each other and staring at me, mouths agape and eyes as wide as dinner plates. Having been well accustomed to the universal consensus on how bizarre I looked to humans, all I did was raise my hand and lower it gently at them, communicating simply and silently that all was well now. They were both quite responsive to the gesture and followed it compliantly, though they could not take their shocked gazes off me for anything.

While they were busy doing that, a crafty idea suddenly wormed its way into my mind as I looked down at the unconscious officers lying motionlessly by my feet. It was a risky idea, one that I couldn't guarantee would work, but it would serve as a handy contingency nonetheless. I lowered my staff and placed its spearhead on the officer's chest, and a brief glow began emanating around the body, producing tiny misty vapours that funnelled their way into the gemstones inside the spearhead.

Once the process was done, I hoisted my staff up and placed its hilted end on the ground before looking to the frazzled couple again, whose faces remained frozen with the same exact expressions and did not dare to move a muscle, though only when to hug on to the other tighter. Bittersweetly, I raised my finger to my lips and made a quiet shushing sound, silently requesting that they mention nothing about my existence to anyone before I bolted out of the courtyard just as fast as I barged out into it.