Chapter 1
Sapsorrow
Tuesday, January 21, 2055

9:30 pm

Lola Domingo grabbed what clothes that she could and stuffed them into her gym bag. The small bag was filling up quickly and she still had to make room for her father's cyberdeck. Her mind was racing with things to do, but she couldn't even decide what she needed to take with her.

Her father had come in that evening saying that they would be leaving for Denver tonight. He told her to get packed before ten because they were taking the first available flight. Lola's father worked for Renraku as a matrix programmer. He was responsible for a great deal of the company's matrix security. Recently, however, he had started to distrust Renraku. He made arrangements to take a job with MCT in Denver. Though Lola didn't know much about Renraku, she knew that the corporation would never let her father go willingly. She could tell that her father was concerned about that. He tried not to show it, but the worry lines ran deep in his face.

Just as Lola managed to squeeze the cyberdeck into her gym bag, there was a knock on the door. Not a polite tapping sound, but a demanding throb. Lola froze, fear dancing around in her mind. She zipped up the bag and peeked out the doorway of her room to see her father standing a few meters away from the door.

Her father saw her watching out of the corner of his eye. "Lola, stay there, okay."

"But Daddy..."

"I'm not sure who it is, so stay quiet and don't come out until I say." Her father ordered. Lola gave a slight nod and withdrew back into her room.

The pounding on the door became more insistent. Lola's father started to wonder if Renraku had already tracked him down. It was so soon. He was counting on at least a few more hours, then he and Lola would be safely on their flight to Denver.

There was a loud crunching nose as something large and heavy was slammed against the door. The door bulked a little from the impact. Lola's father flinched at the impact, stunned be the brute force that would have been needed to even dent the heavy door. The impact came again, door creaked as it's hinges were loosened. Once again Lola's father was frozen in place, not sure of what to do. Knowing that he had to protect his daughter, that he had to keep her safe. Quietly, he pulled a small handgun from his coat. The door bulked as it was struck again, looking like it would collapse at any moment.

"Lola." Her father called. "Go out by the porch." He said as calmly as he could. Telling his daughter to go to the porch at the back of their condo. "Quickly now."

Lola hesitated. "But..."

"Don't argue with me. Just go, now." He said sternly.

The door fell at the final blow as it's hinges were shattered. It fell to the floor with a considerable noise, clanging against the hardwood floor. At the doorway stood three men dressed in dark suits. They eyed Mr. Domingo with the eyes of a predator as he stood with his small pistol just inside the walkway.

"Mr. Domingo?" One of the men asked in a cold, dry voice.

"Yes?"

"We've been sent to make sure you will be canceling your flight tonight." The man stated as his two companions moved inside to flank Mr. Domingo. "The company would like to have a word with you."

"I am not sure what you are talking about, my dear sir." Mr. Domingo backed up a few steps. He hoped that Lola had made it out onto the porch by now, but he didn't know if she had the sense to climb down off the porch. "My daughter and I were taking a flight to Denver tonight to visit her mother. She is very ill."

"Put your gun down." The man ordered.

Mr. Domingo suddenly realized that he was still holding his pistol. He hadn't even thought about it until now.

"And then you can tell me what you did with the access codes."

Mr. Domingo was stunned, how did they know about the codes? Shortly before he left work that afternoon, he had downloaded Renraku's Matrix security codes. They were to be his bargaining chip to use with MCT. With those codes, he planned to buy himself a new job in Denver and safety from Renraku's hired guns.

The two men that flanked Mr. Domingo moved in.

Mr. Domingo took a few steps back. "I don't know what you're talking about. What codes?"

"The ones you stole from Renraku's system this afternoon, Mr. Domingo."

"You must be mistaken."

"I don't think I am." He said as he pointed to his two companions. "Fletcher, Goran." The two men nodded at their boss. "Take Mr. Domingo to the car. I am going to have a look around up here and see what I can find."

Mr. Domingo shuddered. "You can't!"

"I might find where he put the codes, or I might find his daughter." The man said. Fletcher and Goran exchanged sinister grins. "So give me about ten minutes."

"Don't you dare!" Mr. Domingo yelled as he pulled his pistol and pointed it at the man in the doorway. There was a small pop as he pulled the trigger and the light round buried itself in the man's shoulder.

The man in the doorway grunted. There was a thump as the bullet impacted against an armored jacket, but that was all. Goran grabbed the run out of Mr. Domingo's hand and tossed it across the room. Fletcher was next to backhand Mr. Domingo across the face, knocking him to the ground.

"You shouldn't have shot Strife. That wasn't very sociable." Goran bellowed as he kicked Mr. Domingo in the ribs. "Now we got to make you pay."

"Yeah, nothing personal." Fletcher added, pulling a large heavy pistol from his coat. He pointed the barrel of the gun at Mr. Domingo's head. The ruby-red dot of a laser sight appeared on the bridge of his nose.

The man, Strife, from the doorway gave a cough as he stumbled back. He almost had a heart attack when he saw what Fletcher was about to do. "Fletcher! No!" He warned. "Not yet!"

Goran managed a confused "Wha?" Just as Fletcher triggered his handgun and blew the back of Mr. Domingo's head all over the hardwood floor. His lifeless body fell to the floor with a hollow thud.

"Damnit, Fletcher, I told you not to do that!" Strife made his way in to slap Fletcher on the back of the head.

"What? When?" Fletcher replied. "I don't remember you saying that, boss."

"Shut up you mentally challenged pathetic excuse for a slug." Strife replied as he moved in and checked the cold corpse of Mr. Domingo.

Fletcher peered stupidly at the body and the spreading pool of red that was forming. "He dead, boss?"

"Well, I figure that blowing his face off with a Manhunter would make just about anyone dead."

"Oops." Fletcher shrugged.

"Oops nothing. Check the bedrooms and see if his daughter is still around, Goran. She might know what Domingo did with the matrix codes. If we don't find those codes we are going to be in real deep drek."

"Hey, boss." Fletcher asked. "What you want me to do."

"Normally I would suggest that you get a lobotomy, but for right now just get rid of the body. Pull it out of the way."

Lola fell the last four feet to the ground. The bushes around her porch kept her hidden to where she couldn't be seen. The second that she head the first gunshot she headed out the door. Then when she heard the second, much louder shot she was running. Running as fast as she could afraid for her life. She knew that she had to get as far away as possible. That only thing that she didn't know was where to go.

11:50 pm

Sheila Windors's received a call shortly before midnight. The sound of her telecom chiming ruined her sleep. It took her a few moments to find her way through the silk covers of her bed. By the time she answered the call, the chime had become an annoying buzz in her head. She keyed the telecom for a voice call only.

"Yes?" She asked the caller with some disgust. "What is it?"

"Ms. Windors? Did I disturb you?" A shallow voice said. "I cannot see you."

Sheila recognized the voice. It came from a low-grade decker who went be the nickname "Fuzzhead" in the Matrix. A short, thin human in the real world, Fuzzhead was so called because his hair was teased up into one of the largest afro's in the sprawl. His Matrix persona appeared as a 1970's disco dancer.

"Fuzzhead? I hope you have a good reason for calling me at this hour. I have had a very long day." Sheila sighed.

"I am sorry." Fuzzhead said meekly. "I thought you would be awake. I still can't see you."

Sheila glanced at herself in the mirror on her dresser. She had no makeup on, there were heavy bags under her eyes, and her hair was a tangled frenzy that would be almost impossible to fix. "At the moment, I don't think you would want to see me." Even though Sheila couldn't see Fuzzhead either, she was sure that he was blushing. "Why did you call?"

"I've got some information."

"So? I know a lot too, but I don't call you in the middle of the night to tell you about it." She said sarcastically. "Now do I?"

"Well, no you don't. I wouldn't complain if you did." Fuzzhead admitted. "But this is important."

"I'm sure it is." Sheila only barely believed him. Fuzzhead was a decker that she normally hired to do research on the Matrix when she needed to look up the history of someone. He really didn't have any serious skills or equipment to do much on his own. So Fuzzhead hired himself out to people like Sheila Windors. People who worked the shadows of Seattle as Fixers, providing jobs and information to the sprawl's population of shadowrunners.

"It can be worth a lot. Is this a secure line?"

Sheila frowned, hoping that Fuzzhead was not wasting her time. She reached over to a large briefcase by the bed and keyed the electronic encryption system on. "The line is secure. Now tell me what you've got."

"Information is not free."

Damn that little freak, Sheila thought to herself. Fuzzhead wasn't going to just give what he knew away. He had to make a profit somewhere.

"I would be willing to sell it to you."

"Not unless I know what your peddling, Fuzzhead." Sheila replied, becoming impatient. "If this information is not solid, then I am not buying it. When I say solid, I don't mean rumors or word on the street. I can get that for free."

Fuzzhead paused, as if he was trying to think on a way to get soemthing out of it. He couldn't just give what he knew away. "I'd settle for some other means of compensation."

"What did you have in mind?"

Fuzzhead took a deep breath. He was glad that Sheila could not see the expression of worry on his face. Worry that she might turn him down. "I would be happy if you would just keep me in mind in the future. You know, in case you ever need anything or hear about a job."

Sheila tried to control herself from laughing. Fuzzhead was ambitious, but he lacked the skills and the equipment. He needed experience, but he didn't want to wait for it. "Sure Fuzz, what have you got?"

"Are you sure this connection is safe?"

Sheila checked her encryption gear again. "Yes, I'm sure."

"Okay." Fuzzhead took a deep breath and started to explain. "I was messing around in a system tonight, Renraku's. I came across a memo to the Matrix Programmer from an outside source that he had two tickets booked to Denver. At first I thought it was nothing. Until I stumbled into a keystroke log for the Renraku's Matrix Programmer. Now I won't go through the trouble I had in getting it, but I went through the logs and found a time that the Matrix Programmer downloaded the company's access file for their financial subsystem."

"And?"

"The access file contains all the passwords and logins so that anyone could waltz right into Renraku's finance network and see where every dime the company spends goes. The Matrix Programmer that copied the file also wrote it. That file isn't suppose to leave the Matrix security grid, but it did. The Programmer had access and was able to pull it off."

"That still doesn't mean anything."

"I know, but then I came across something else from one of my searches on the shadowland. Rumor has it that MCT is willing to pay big bucks, at least ¥250,000, to find out what Renraku has been spending on some of its projects. I'm not talking about the public projects either, Sheila. So I turned around and ran a trace on the tickets that the Renraku programmer bought to Denver. Turns out that the programmer didn't buy the tickets at all. A man in Denver named Francis Underwood did. Now I ran a Matrix search for Francis and guess what I came up with."

"What?"

"Francis works as a Johnson for MCT. Now I put two and two together and came up with a theory."

"Go ahead, you've got me interested." Sheila said as she sat up on her bed.

"This programmer for Renraku, James Domingo, wants to get out of the corporation. Again, that's guesswork. So, this Francis fellow gets word of it and offers Mr. Domingo a position in MCT if he can get the codes. Mr. Domingo agrees and the deal is made. Only something goes wrong."

"What's that?"

"Well, while I was in the Matrix, the entire node went active. Nothing I did, but suddenly there are corporate deckers protecting the financial node. Deckers protecting a node is pretty odd considering how expensive it is. Most of the time it's just the intrusion countermeasures. With that, I think Renraku somehow got word that Mr. Domingo stole the codes and plans to sell them to MCT. How Renraku found out is beyond me. Someone probably saw the keystroke log like I did."

"So Renraku is going to try and stop Mr. Domingo from making his flight."

"Yeah, but after I got out of the Renraku system, I ran a Lone Star search and came up with something. It seems that gunshots were reported from Mr. Domingo's condo a little while ago. Police on the scene reported one body that had been burned beyond recognition by some kind of acid."

"Your saying Renraku already put an end to it?"

"I don't think so. Mr. Domingo had a daughter and she wasn't found at the apartment. No one has seen her. Plus Renraku's system is still red hot and the company's been pouring over the Matrix with a ton of activity. To me, there wouldn't be that much activity in the Matrix if they had already recovered the codes."

"It sounds like whoever Renraku sent to take care of Mr. Domingo failed to recover the codes." Sheila concluded.

"Yeah, I found all of this out. The only thing I'm not sure about is the involvement of MCT. That's guess work, but those access codes would be worth a fortune to MCT. No matter who showed up with it."

Sheila shrugged. "Or until Renraku has changed the codes."

"Thing is that changing the access codes for a whole subsystem is a lengthy and expensive process. It would take at least a few days. Until then the whole subsystem would be crippled to intruders. Renraku's going to try and keep this quiet, the last thing they want is to draw attention to themselves. I'd say that within the next hour, they'll wipe the Matrix clean of any information of what Mr. Domingo did."

"How long since you found out all of this?"

Fuzzhead scratched his chin. "About an hour, but the keystroke log had Mr. Domingo copying the file at eight today."

Sheila thought to herself for a second. Those access codes would be worth a small fortune if she could find them and sell them to MCT. It wasn't going to be simple. Obviously it would be extremely difficult to find where the codes are now. Renraku was obviously putting in all its resources into recovering the codes, but they had to be careful. Renraku couldn't just comb the streets, that would draw too much attention. If the rest of the shadows found out the Renraku's financial codes were out, everyone would be in a frenzy to find them. It wouldn't take long for MCT to find out that Mr. Domingo wouldn't be making his flight. They would want to know what happened as well. Sheila estimated that within the next six hours MCT would get involved. Long before then Renraku would have cleaned all evidence from the Matrix. A sinister smile crossed her face when she realized that MCT would have to pay to receive the codes.

"Fuzz, thanks for your information." She smiled to herself. "I think I can put it to use."

"You won't forget what we talked about, will you?"

"No, Fuzz, goodbye." She reached for the cut off switch.

"But Sheila...."

"Goodbye, Fuzz." And cut him off.

Ms. Windors found her mind dancing with flights of fancy. The very thought of how much nuyen that MCT was willing to pay just to get their hands on the Matrix codes made her skin tingle. Of course, she would have to recover the codes first. She couldn't get them herself, but she had more than enough connections to pull it off.

Sheila forced herself out of bed and into the shower, to better present herself for her days work. Then she went back to her telecom, making sure that the encryption system was still active, and dialed a number.

12:35 am

The towering figures of skyscrapers almost hide the ocean that lay just beyond downtown Seattle. From the sixth floor balcony of Club Phreak, the outline of the monolith buildings looked so tiny in comparison with the moon and the stars. Remy Corllien had spent many nights standing on the balcony and staring out at the outline of the downtown towers. After all, Club Phreak sat right on the border of Redmond and Bellevue. A somewhat upscale neighborhood that had been stricken with the rather dark nature of Club Phreak.

In all the nights that Remy had gazed to the horizon, his view was always blocked by the sprawling sea of humanity. He had never been able to see the sea. The polluted Pudget Sound would probably be as close as he would ever come. He is not one of the lucky ones in this world. A world were the corporations rules rather than governments. Where honor and nobility have no meaning to the casual person on the street. Remy is of the SINless masses of the world. A forgotten caste of society that tries to survive off the leftovers from the corporate class.

The corporations, Remy thinks to himself, a collection of people who go to work everyday, have a steady paycheck, come home to a nice little family that live in a cozy little apartment with a little security system. Why is it then that they are so blind? The companies they work for own them. There is no individual in a corporation, only the entity itself. And the entity doesn't care about the people in this world.

But Remy is also very different from the SINless masses of the world. For he and his small circle of comrades run the shadows of this world in their only parry to survive. Remy is gifted from birth to do this. Not a gift of magic, but the state of his mind. The urge to make something more from his life. The urge not to be lost in the crowd. The urge to be who he is, an individual.

An insistent beep wrecks Remy's lofty thoughts of the skyline. A beep that is born of his portable phone. Here, at the very top of the club, the music from inside is drowned out. Leaving nothing but silence in it's place. It is for the silence that Remy comes up here. So when his moment of peace in his otherwise insane life is shattered, Remy becomes a little irritable at whoever has decided to disturb him.

He pulls the phone out of his long coat in a smooth motion. "Yes?" He asks in a calm, blank voice into the receiving end of the phone.

"Remy? Been a little while since I've heard your warm voice. Where have you been?"

Remy knows the voice all to well. In a small way, he is annoyed that she has called him. In another way, he is glad for Sheila Windors rarely brings bad news when she calls. "Sheila?" Remy propped himself up against the rail surrounding the balcony. "Of all the people I know, you're the last person I expected to hear from tonight."

"I missed you too, Remy."

"I'm sure." Remy said, almost sarcastically.

"And I'm flattered." Sheila almost smiled. "Have you got any plans for the next few days."

Remy smirked, he was right as to why Sheila called. This was a business offer, not a friendly chat. As if he expected anything less from Ms. Windors. She was a cold business woman with years of negotiations on the streets and with the corps under her belt.

As Sheila waited for Remy's reply, she heard him humming to himself. "Remy? What are you doing?"

Remy smiled. "Oh, I was just thinking what I had planned for tomorrow. I was thinking about going fishing. I heard the Sound is really nice this time of year with glowfish."

"Not funny." Sheila was insulted. "I have a job offer for you and it can be very lucrative."

"Tell me more and I'll tell you if I am interested."

"First off, this is a secure line on my end. What about you?"

Remy looked around the balcony lazily. He saw no one, but just to be safe he reached under his long coat and triggered a portable jammer. The jammer was just strong enough to scramble anything trying to listen in on his conversation with Sheila. It didn't have the power to cover a large area with distortion, but Remy didn't need it for that. "Everything is frosty. What did you have in mind."

"I got word that there's something going down right now that could be worth a lot of money to the right people. I need you and your group to track down a set of Matrix codes for me."

"Matrix?" Remy shook his head. "Sorry, Sheila, but we aren't very talented with the Matrix as it is. We've been going through some difficult times in that area."

"Yes, I heard that you lost Wampus. I'm sorry about that."

"Me too."

"But you won't have to worry about going into the Matrix to get these codes. They've already been downloaded by a man named James Domingo. Rumor has it that he planned to sell these codes in order to buy a new life for himself away from his current corporation. However, before he could sell the codes, some corporate heavy hitters went by his doss and interrogated him."

"How did it end?"

"Well, unfortunately, Mr. Domingo is no longer around to tell what he did with the codes. Apparently one of the corporate hitters got a little carried away. The codes are still on the loose."

"Didn't they search the guy's apartment?"

"Yes, but they didn't find anything. I'm sure because the Matrix activity is still hot, like they're trying to protect something."

"Then it's logical to assume that someone else has the codes."

"Yes, but your not listening to me explain."

"My apologies." Remy offered. "Please, continue."

"Mr. Domingo is now deceased. However, his daughter has been missing ever since her father's body was found. Which was around ten tonight, by the way. Also, I have a decker that's been updating me with what he knows. It turns out that Mr. Domingo's cyberdeck was not found at his home. Lone Star didn't find it when they arrived at the scene. Now, my decker believes that Mr. Domingo would have stored the codes in the cyberdeck when he downloaded them. He also believes that, since he was transporting them, the codes are still locked away in the deck."

"What if the corp boys got the deck?"

"If they did, they would've found the codes. However, since all activities and word in the shadows still scream with activity, it's safe to assume that they have not found the deck yet."

Remy hummed to himself.

"Now, my thoughts are that Mr. Domingo's daughter made a run for it when those corporate hitters came after him. Now, when she ran, I think she took the deck with her. So, if you find the girl, you'll find the cyberdeck. Once you have the cyberdeck, you have the codes."

Remy nodded his head slightly. "Interesting story."

"If you can get me those codes, Remy, I'll pay each of your crew twenty thousand."

"Fascinating." Remy said, sounding almost disconcerned with the entire offer.

"Remy? You know I hate it when you act this way. It sounds like your ignoring me." Sheila frowned. "Will you do it?"

Again, Remy just hummed.

"Remy?"

"I have a few questions." He said suddenly.

Sheila sighed, but was careful not to let Remy hear her. "Some things I can't answer unless you accept."

"Oh, these are very simple questions. First, I want to know who's codes these are."

Sheila frowned again, she didn't want to mention the corporations name over the phone. Even if she had encryption running. Remy didn't leave her with much choice, however. For all his modestness, Remy was a very capable runner. Sheila had to respect that.

"Renraku." She replied.

"Hmm, and I'll assume that is the same company that Mr. Domingo worked for."

"That's right."

"And I can also assume that his daughter is running loose on the streets of Seattle not even aware of what she is carrying?"

"Probably so. She probably doesn't know what he father was doing." Sheila confirmed. "She might be running scared with no place to go, which will make tracking her quite difficult."

"What are the codes to?"

"Excuse me?"

"The Matrix codes, Ms. Windors, what are they for?"

Sheila shook her head, she couldn't tell that. "I'm sorry, Remy, but I can't tell you unless you agree to the job."

"No, no, Sheila." Remy countered. "You will tell me what those codes are for. Otherwise, you can consider the fee raised by four thousand. Now you can either tell me now, or pay us extra. Your choice."

Sheila considered for a moment, running through calculations in her head. With the current size of Remy Corllien's team, she would be paying an extra twenty-four thousand nuyen. Money that she would much rather have for herself.

"Okay, Remy. You win."

"Excellent." Remy replied.

"The codes are for Renraku's financial subsystem. With these codes anyone can access Renraku's most shady business transactions without any problems from intrusion countermeasures."

Remy rubbed his chin. "Well, well. Something like that could be quite valubale. Who's buyer?"

"I'm not going to tell you until your accept."

Remy was taken back a little and allowed himself a moment to collect his thoughts. It sounded easy. All he had to do was locate Mr. Domingo's daughter and get the cyberdeck from her. Yet, that girl was probably running scared in Seattle at this very moment. She had no one to turn to and didn't know what was going to happen to her. It was so sad and terrible for her to be forced into such a position. Odds were that she would last less than a week on her own.

"Okay, Sheila, accepted." Remy said. "But, the price just went up. Something like that is going to be worth quite a bit on the open market. We deserve a fair cut."

"How much do you want?"

"Twenty-seven."

Once again, Sheila ran through numbers in her head. This time activating her Math SPU she had installed to figure the profit she would make after she payed off Remy and her other contacts. "Sorry, I can't go that way. Twenty-two?"

"Twenty-five, and you know how I am at negotiating."

Sheila knew how Remy was. If anyone ever made an offer to Remy that insulted him, Remy would simply leave. It had happened a few times before. Once with Sheila when she offered him a very low sum. Remy had just walked out on her, taking his entire team with him.

"Accepted, Remy."

"There's just one thing I need from you." Remy continued.

"What would that be?"

"I need Mr. Domingo's address."

"Why?" Sheila was a little confused at Remy's request. Renraku had no doubt already searched Mr. Domingo's home. If the codes were there, they would have found them for sure.

"Sheila, I don't ask you how you work your side of the business. Don't ask me how I work mine."

"Fine, just one second." She said, tapping a few keys on her telecom. "Greendale Condos, number four. Located in Everett. Nice little family plot that's owned by a real estate company instead of Renraku. I don't know much about the security."

"Thank you." Remy replied as he made a mental note of the address. "Do you have a buyer?"

"Yes."

"And have you contacted them?"

Remy saw right through her, Sheila thought. She hadn't contacted MCT yet, but she had full plans to. "I plan on it, Remy. I had to secure your services first."

"Understandable. Who is it?"

"Not over this line."

"Sheila?" Remy said insistently.

"Later, Remy, I'll tell you later."

"Okay, but I will be holding you to it. When do you need the codes?"

Sheila thought a second. "They way things look, it might take you a while. It's pretty hard to find someone in Seattle when they don't want to be found. Just get them to me as soon as you can."

Remy ran through the things he would have to do. He had to get his group together which meant contacting them in their various homes and hangouts. Then he would have to coordinate them together so he could explain everything. Then proceed to Mr. Domingo's home and from there he would just have to see what would happen. The last thing he wanted to do was go out and blindly start searching for this girl who had run away with the cyberdeck. It would be pointless to wonder around Seattle hoping to run into her.

"I'll contact you within twenty-four hours."

"Good, until then Remy." The line went dead.

Remy closed his phone down and smiled to himself. Things in his life had just become a little more interesting. As he looked out over the skyline again, however, he still realized that he couldn't see the ocean. He could barely make out the stars through the dense smog. Remy couldn't see anything beyond the sprawl. It was almost like the sprawl was a world unto itself. A world that closed out everything else, making it's own private heaven and hell.

1:00 am

Lola stepped off the bus on the edge of the Tacoma district. The street was busy, alive even at this time of night. People shoved their way along the sidewalk going about their own business. They payed no attention to her. The neon signs of the storefronts produced a ghostly glow on the street.

Lola made her way quietly down the sidewalk, pushing her way through the knots of humanity that gathered on the curbs. She is cold, the temperature is near freezing at this time of night. She is hungry too, having had nothing to eat since lunch. All combined with the fact that she has no idea where she is going. She had no one to turn to, no one to trust. For the first time in her life, she was on her own. Away from her sheltered corporate life and no longer protected by the walled enclave that had been her home. She was in the real world now. A place were hopes and dreams are dashed by the harsh reality of a world gone mad.

She wanders through the streets as a lost child. For the most part, the people that crowd her are ignorant and pay her no mind. They have their own lives to lead and care nothing about hers. Every so often, though, Lola finds some of the people staring at her. Men and women with glaring eyes and cold hearts. People who make the hairs of her neck stand on end.

Lola Domingo didn't really stand out amongst the people on the street. She wore a large sweater that advertised the Seattle Screamers. The sweater was almost two sizes to large for her and completely engulfed her small frame. She also had on a pair of tight-fitting synthetic denim pants. The bleached white color of her pants contrasted sharply with the dark green of her sweater. Her hair looked a little worse for wear than it normally did. It dropped just below her ears and was normally straight and shiny. Tonight, it was a maze of strands that had been matted together with the difficulty she had in escaping from her home. Lola was constantly pushing the strands out of her eyes. She clutched a small, purple gym bag close to her body. The bag held all her possessions in the world which didn't include much. Her father's cyberdeck was by far the most valuable item she had. Lola knew it was worth a small fortune and she even knew how to work it. However, the cyberdeck was all she had. Other than a few scattered clothes and pictures, there was nothing else in the bag she held so dear.

The chilling wind cuts straight through her sweater. Lola shivers, stopping at a street corner and leans up against the cold brick wall of the building behind her. It's late at night and she is so tired. Barely able to keep her eyes open, she squints to make out the sign of the building she has leaned up against. A fleeting smile crosses her lips as she makes out the sign. It reads "Juno's Coffin Motel, ¥8 per night" in glowing neon red.

Though Lola may not know where her life will go from here. Indeed, she doesn't even know where her next meal will come from. She does know, however, that she can't stay out in the open and hope to survive in the freezing and damp weather of Seattle. So she silently trots through the front doors of the coffin motel and decides to spend what money she has on a place to stay for the night. It may not be her warm bed in her safe home, but at least it will keep the rain off her.