Chapter 2 - Weekend

The next morning. A digital alarm clock rang aloud, apparently displays "SAT 06:00 21C". A large hand disables it. The hand is connected to a muscular arm, it is clear to see it has seen heavy usage. The arm connects to a curvaceous torso, large and voluptuous breasts droop above robust abs, covered by white opaque tank top. Stub of a former arm, comprised of thick muscles, can be seen ending mid-bicep. Down below, sturdy hips and stout thighs attach to tall and athletic legs, well hidden behind short black boxers. Cut collarbone seen clearly atop wide and rugged shoulder. Large firm neck affixed to feminine yet handsome face, a dog tag necklace wraps around the neck, down and ending unseen behind the cleavage. Unkempt shoulder-length black hair flows. The figure is Natalya.

She wipes her eyes, sluggishly stood up,  and raised the blinds, the sun's light bathed the bedroom, but is slightly tainted by seemingly perpetual neon billboards, varying in languages. She continues to the bathroom, wiping her face with ice-cold water, wears her glasses and  proceeds to tie her untidy hair to high ponytail, and combed the rest of remaining bangs. Her foot steps into the kitchen and her hand reaches the top shelf easily, as the shelf was around neck-high of her, and grabbed a tin filled with Assam loose tea leaves, then poured the contents to a teapot, and drenched it in nearly boiling water. As the tea steeps, she goes to the living room and turns on the television. After about 5 minutes, tea is poured into an mug, sugar and milk is added and mixed. Warm, rich tea travels down her esophagus. The sofa creaks slightly as she puts her stature, she flicks her hand, the television stopped  at a news channel. It depicts the usual news of northern Sweden shelled by the Norbotten Green Army, after disputed mining of recently discovered deep uranium deposits in an area around 5 kilometers from Lannavaara.

Deadpan, she unrolls her phone and checks unread messages, some of them are banters in group chats and the rest are spams. Seeing there's probably nothing better to do, she continued to the wardrobe and strapped a large black sports bra underneath the tank top, puts on a collared white dress shirt, then a dark green turtleneck sweater on top and cargo pants, and gingerly applied woody-smelling perfume. She reaches to one particular button underneath a rack inside the closet, with a click, the walls behind the closet splits into two, it separates and reveals a plethora of weapons. Her hand reaches a polymer conceal carry holsters, one is a bra/cleavage holster, which hangs just below the breasts and supported by an additional wraparound, another is a simple on-pants belt holster behind the trousers, it is slightly different, as it holsters a knife. She grasp a singular firearm, Glock 26. Glock 26, 9mm, 10+1 capacity, custom 416R stainless steel 1/2X28 threaded barrel, it loads with a resounding click, 1 extra 10+1 pinky extension mag into the bra holster, and pocketed a suppressor into the same holster-pack. Another weapon, a simple 2-edged knife which tapers into a fine point, the knife is put into another sheath on the small of her back. Both weapons now fully concealed behind layers of clothing. She continues to the shoe rack near the entrance and wears a pair of worn waterproof loafers. She flicks another switch adjacent to the entrance, sounds of the television and heater turning off can be heard clearly, the door is closed and locks automatically.

Various people pass by along the pavement, while high-speed cars whizzes by the asphalt road. Up above, several of layered ringways spanning the entire city can be seen, stacked on top of each other, each one of them has their own sidewalks, access to the buildings adjacent to the ringway, and access to ringways above and below it via numerous stairs. Couple of the ringways penetrates some bulky buildings, these are designated bus, taxi, helicopter, and underground stations, as it connects the underground beneath, officially called Massive Public Transport Station, MPTS. The ringways are of various sizes and thickness, those which are the thinnest goes through many bulky buildings while branching off to 6-10 lanes wide ringways, which are dedicated highways. Along these ringways gigantic electrical billboards are supported by pylons and thick steel wires. One of the ad shows campaigning election party candidates with slogans such as "Restore Britain, Rejoice" and "Equal and Diverse". "Bloody champagne socialists" She muttered to herself as she passes by the campaigns. Some parts of the city are covered in ringways and sufficiently dark that street lamps and storefront neons glows 24/7, these are usually fringe slums filled with decrepit flats, underground black markets, brothels, and inexpensive clinics, complete with unlicensed doctors.

Even though the sun still shines faintly under the gaps of several layers of road and concrete, orange street lamps dimly lit hard pavement below. The streets were lively, food vendors sweat as orders come left and right. Trinkets and baubles scattered across the paved stone, their owners shout diverse ranges of prices. Perceptive people might see some hints of several certain vendors offering contraband items, most obvious are narcotics and such, but illegal, military-grade bionics are some of the most popular amongst gang members and self-proclaimed assassins, although at worse conditions. The Big boys usually procure them from their bosses, or select outsourcers, seldom they have enough expertise in the bioengineering department to manufacture such intricacies, but those who do have, often do not look human, other times even polypedal. Natalya walks towards one of the vendor, he currently does not see her as he's concocting arrays of street food. Her eyes focuses to several culinary items.

"2 egg waffles please" He nods, prepares it in about 4 minutes, "2 pounds" She gives the exact amount, her hands grabs the polyethylene bag and stroll away. Observant as she is, her eyes catches several people steals few glances, particularly at her quite large bosoms, she pays no heed and kept her deadpan face. Meandering about the dark, but lively streets, around 700 meters, the vendors thin out, until at a point where there are only few people scattered about, there's only few shops, occasional barber, and plenty of sub-optimal apartment complexes lined up in 2 files on the sides of the street. An hour of walk later, an opening to the monorail-line up above, fortunately it is quite empty.

The lift closes, it begins to accelerate at breakneck speed, the LED displays 50m, 100m, 150m. As it approaches 300meters, it slowly decelerates and stopping at 350 meters. The doors slides open, a dome hallway that is akin to a walking aquarium greets its new passenger. At both ends of the hallway, a ticketing system, a semi-transparent fiberglass door prevents unauthorized passage. She opens her wallet, an ID card with her face is shown below the transparent part of the wallet, a few euros, a credit card, the same photo of 6 people, and a cross amulet, she swipes the credit card to the part of the system, it lights up from bright blue to neon green, the obstacle shifts from being perpendicular, to parallel to the hallway. There is a station platform just forward of the ticketing system, below that, a concrete-metal pattern resembles monorail tracks. Considering this is weekend, there isn't that many people around, the seats are mostly empty, save for a few figures, her bottom fills the seat nicely. 5 minutes later, the monorail arrived, there were not many souls inside, her bottom migrates from polymer seat outside, to synthetic leather seat inside. The interior is a sea of polymer and painted steel, the monorail map is as bland as a printed polymer, it depicts vast networks of stations in and out of London. Mostly the interior of the monorail is rather nondescript, short of a few people, a sliding text of ancient LED technology of 2005 which shows the next destination, and the scenery of London skyline below.

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