The smell of dirty shag carpet is thick in your nostrils. Its coarse texture has rubbed the side of your face raw; you must have slid a great distance. You blink your eyes open and shut as you shake off the daze. As you lift yourself up, everything seems to be moving in slow motion. The air is filled with debris, floating pieces of paper, dust, drywall, all knocked loose by what you can only guess were breach-charges.

Coral is in the neighboring cubicle, crouched down behind her desk, trembling in terror, and with her hand clenched firmly around the handle of the firearm she keeps strapped at the small of her back. A volley of heavy weapons fire whizzes over the top of your work space as you press yourself against the flimsy, hard-plastic wall. You hear a muffled, augmented voice shout out over the screams of the chaotic office space. You reach out and grab Coral by the shoulder, “What did he say?!” Surprised, her eyes go wide and she turns her panic-stricken face to meet yours, “N-n-no-nobody moves.” She takes a deep breath, “I think we are being robbed!” Her voice is shaky and weak.

You let go of her shoulder and stand up just enough to peer over the top of the small grey divider. A metal monstrosity, at least eight feet tall and armed to the teeth is standing in the center of an enormous, crumbling hole in the wall. He is a cyborg by guess, but his augmentations are so extensive it’s hard to tell. He is accompanied by three soldiers, all with military grade hardware, and a couple of bloodhounds, mechanical beasts capable of tracking down targets with terrifying efficiency. This is no robbery, the thought shoots through your head, that’s a death squad. Your cousin had warned you about working at a startup company; frequently one of the megalo-corporations will see them as a potential threat in the market place and raze the entire block. It’ll be made to look like an ‘accident,’ a wildfire out of control, or maybe a gang war that spilled off the streets and into a work-complex. You saw it on the news all the time but you always knew the truth of it, everyone did.

You duck back down and turn to Coral, “we have to go, NOW!” Her eyes narrow and she nods slowly. Your heart is beating so loudly that it is all you can hear. You have to make it to the garage. Your XT9 is there and you are fairly certain it can outrun whatever these thugs brought. You take a final deep breath, swallow back the fear, and grab the pistol you keep strapped underneath your desk. Its go time.