Hunter Tomson - 2/23/2024

Berlin Underworld

As I approached the city toll gates, I played witness to the harsh transition that technology has enforced upon us. Human technology. The things we strive for. The subtle daylight that shone down upon me evaporates with each step I take. The past few weeks of travel had consisted of glorious rural sights and sleeping in abandoned countryside towns. It had been some time since my soul had been nurtured by nature in such a way. But the green overgrown fields had now been replaced with a concrete jungle. It grew around me as I moved closer and closer towards the Berlin Underworld. Here I am. The final step of the journey. Or perhaps the start. I am standing at the tunnel entrance. Ahead, the Berlin skyline towers down around me. Shadows block out the sun with purpose. The megalithic environment dwarfs me . A small being, with such a large responsibility placed upon my shoulders. Hunter Tomson, here to save the world. I think to myself how laughable the proposition is. I proceed forwards into the tunnel. As the darkness sets in, the flow of others around me tightens. We mill forwards as a tight shoal of fish seeking out their destination. Seeking entrance. Many of those around me seem to be in groups. Small families cling to one another, whilst larger groups and communities mill around the fringes. My solitude allows me to sweep through the crowds unnoticed. As a taller man, I stand above the average head height of those around me. I can see the crowd being herded towards the tunnel exit. Tall toll gates are positioned at the end of the tunnel. They exist with a sense of resistance. As the crowd swarmed forward, a thirst for escape echoes around us. We all press forward with intent. Wave after wave of momentum carries us forward. Only to be met by a subtle but firm sense of resistance that pushes us back. My mind wanders to my time in Indonesia. Where this all began. Dreamland dreaming. A common theme of self coping for me when times get hard. And times were hard. There was no denying it. As the body of people moves forwards, a dim glow starts to light the faces around me. Mixed expressions of relief and excitement fall around me as many sense the city entrance is near.Vulnerability surrounds me. I am, at this moment. Entirely submitted to the wills of Megacorp. My right eye stings with the replica LensTech lens that clings to my retina. I can feel my pupil dilate and retract as my eye struggles to cope with its new parasite. Garret had secured the fake lens through an underground connection linked with the Human League. To gain access to a ‘smart city’, LensTech was required. Our non extensive research has shown that duplicate or fake lenses have been used to gain entry on occasion. But it was unclear whether or not this particular fake would work. As we approach the final row before entering the city border gates, a voice within me wills that it will. For once in my life, I found myself crazing to become one with the new technological race of humanity that was forced upon us. As the crowd mulled forwards towards the tunnel's mouth, Megacorp drones loomed over them. Their strong metallic structures commanded authority. Their digital voices boomed out through their sound systems. Commands of all kinds. Stay in line. Wait your turn. These commands were only to be punctuated by the sounds of a drone walking. With each step the drone took the ground beneath them shuddered. With each shudder the bones in my body rang against one another. And with each bone ring I was reminded of how finite my strength was against one of these drones. Finally, I approached the gate. A human guard beckons me forward. As I start to walk forward, a mother carrying a small child runs forward ahead of me. I see them rushing towards one side of the gate where a red alarm was sounding. A middle aged man was standing in the toll booth chamber. I couldn’t make out the man's face, but as I walked closer, I could see that a strange metallic object clung to his face. The metallic object then proceeded to clasp its long arms around the man's head. Within seconds, the man's head explodes. As she attempted to slide through the gates before me, she screamed out a name. Tears flare from her eyes. She wailed and wailed as the guard pulled out a stun baton. The tip of the stun baton glowed red as it connected with the mothers arm. She fell to the floor instantly, dropping her small child to the floor. The child was a girl, no more than four or five years old. Before I have time to act, to decide how to help or how to avenge this act of cruelty. A group of guards walk forwards in formation. They grab the girl and her mother and proceed to drag them to the side of the tunnel. A door was opened, and as soon as the event had begun, it was over. Out of sight, but very much retained in mind. The guard once again makes eye contact with me and waves me forward. As I pass the guard towards the small chamber where his stun baton directs me, I think to myself what kind of human could help participate in such evil? The chamber ahead of me is parallel to the chamber the man had previously stood in. A red mist clung to the chamber. The red mist was soon replaced with a grey mist that doused the chamber. Once the grey mist cleared, the man's body was gone. What little resistance we might have against dictators. Where is humanity's sense of self morality? Of loyalty. Kindness. Virtue. All words that seemed to have been removed from the dictionary over the past decade. Sure, these words can be spoken, but their meaning is a throwback. A calling to our distant past, where things mattered. Where people mattered. Where goodness and truth held some kind of agreed value. As my mind begins to explore this rabbit hole, my thought track is punctuated as soon as the chamber door slides open before me. I step forward into the small chamber. I am alone within the space except for a small drone which begins to fly around me. The drone pauses at different locations of my body. With each pause, a red laser shines from the space between the drones eyes and scans me. A small clicking sound gave me the impression that I was being photographed. After each pause, a green light flickers as if to say, check complete. After ten or so scans, the drone whirrs around the chamber and stops right before my eyes. The drone paused whilst scanning the area where my fake Lenstech was installed. Fear rings through my body as I feel the inevitable truth pierce through me. I close my eyes, expecting an imminent end to my existence. A whooshing sound flows around me. That must be the gas I think. I open my eyes, to see the chamber door has opened before me. A robotic voice speaks within the chamber.

“willkommen in berlin”My existence continues as I spill out into the underbelly of Berlin.

Whilst in the tunnel, I had been given the false impression of natural light being the destination that I was heading towards. The harshness of the queue had made this light feel like some kind of eventual utopia. Now my transition into the underbelly was complete, I discovered that natural light was in fact a myth. Instead, around me, shining lights penetrate the darker corners of this world. I stand on the pavement looking around as electric transportation whirs around me. The concrete jungle that lay before me is immense. There’s no other word for it. Each building, street and corner somehow merged together to create this metropolis. I turn my gaze towards the sky for a sense of escape from the maze around me. My neck hurts as my eyes attempt to trace the outline of the eternal sky scrapers that drive themselves towards the sky. Their existence towers around me. There is no escape. No light. No sun. Nothingness. Just building after building after building. This place was a block out. Just lights, roads, pavements and buildings and more buildings. It felt as though I was entirely underground. Still in the tunnel. Still seeking an eventual light or opportunity of something different. I stumble through the maze of walls and alleyways until I find myself on what appears to be a main road. Staring down the road amazes me. It’s been a long time since I had worn any kind of lens technology. As I hit the main strip the Lenstech kicks into action. Even the fake version was capable of thrusting upon me an entirely new world of visual stimuli. As cars beam past me, their brand adverts linger in my retina. I then focus on the brand as it appears in my vision. Soon enough a list of used and new rentable vehicles are forced upon me. I blink to clear my vision and whilst doing so, thank Garret under my breath for his brief but informative instructions on how to use the Lenstech. I proceed down the strip only moments later finding myself impaled upon a clothes store advert. I blink again and try to continue forwards. Before taking a single step, I see myself walking ahead of me wearing a new suit and hat. The avatar version of myself turns to me and spins. A female avatar with a similar appearance to Alfa runs towards him and wraps her arms around him. I blink again in anger. To my relief, the avatars disappear, but the concern of how much this LensTech already knew about my deeper thoughts remains. I continue down the road. Blinking with almost every step I take. My mind is distracted with the conscious effort this blinking requires. Something my body had previously done without thinking, was now a requirement. In the top right of my vision I can see my vitals. The top left shows a loading bar that I know is in relation to the amount of ads I should have to watch at some point today. Luckily, this fake version of Lenstech wouldn’t require the ad watching bonanza that others were forced into. A burger ICON flashes in the top right of my vitals. It looks like it’s time for my humanity to shine through once again. Food.

Since leaving Datenshutz, a return to survival travel rations had been required. Although the food within Datenshutz wasn’t exactly Michelin star, it was nourishing. The transition towards our traveling rations had been rather abrupt and unexpected. Something my body was punishing me for. As my eyes lasered in on the hamburger icon in the top right of my view, the AR adverts around me suddenly cleared. Seconds later, a refreshed view was presented which instead, highlighted all of the food and restaurant options available to me. My eyes flew to a small cubby of stands with vendors. Each of them possessed a small icon above their stand. As my eyes focused on a vendor's icon, the icon would expand into a small viewing area with a video, with audio that told me about the food options, pricing and offers. My stomach rumbled as an array of different options were shown before me. As my feet follow the rumbles, I find myself carried towards the food area. When I round the corner, I can see the food court ahead of me. Two pillars stand tall either side of its entrance. Once I get to the entrance I notice, the pillars are in fact two Megacorp drones. As I enter the food hall, I can make out what seems to be the first sense of a real human society since leaving Indonesia. Row after row of canteen tables lay before me. Almost every seat is taken, with people standing around the edge of the food hall. Some even sit on the floor. The walls around us are lined with vending machines. The vending machines are much larger than those I remember from my childhood. I approach one that has the fewest people milling around it. As I get closer, the LensTech kicks in and the vending machine begins its sales pitch. The avatar of a young, pretty asian woman shines before me. She narrates information to me about each meal. As each item is displayed, the ad bar in the top left of my vision increases depending on the option I select. It had been a long long time since I’d had any kind of Asian food. For the first time in ages my heart jumped with joy as an image before me popped up with the title, Nasi Goreng. Fried rice, vegetables, chicken with a side of hot sambal. This was one of my favorite meals from my time in Indonesia. I selected the meal and the Asian woman seemed to jump with joy. The transaction occurs within the Lenstech and a green light flashed on the vending machine as I hear the meal tumble forwards towards the food collection point. I stoop forward to collect the meal.

I place my hands into the meal collection chamber, hoping to grasp my hands around some kind of tub or box. Instead, I can feel a small object inside, wrapped in paper. I search around the collection chamber, confused as to where my item was. I can sense others in the line becoming impatient with me. At that point, I clasp the small object and remove it from the machine. I walk away to a smaller corner within the food hall before inspecting my purchase. The object in my hand was no larger than a box of cigarettes. As I unwrap the paper that surrounds the object, I place the solid remaining object in my free hand. Looking down, I can see a solid brick of, well, stuff in my hand. Stuff would be the best way to explain this. I raise it to my nose to give it a sniff. Nothing. Slowly, I raise the block towards my mouth and give it a careful lick. Oddly enough, I was licking Nasi Goreng. This small block tasted exactly like Nasi Goreng. I take a bite. The solid block crunches in my mouth with a weird texture. I’ve never eaten a bar of soap before, but I imagine it would be something similar to this. Only the taste was exquisite. But was that my taste, or was this some kind of trick of the mind. When looking into the block where my last bite was taken, I could see its interior was exactly the same as its exterior. Just a smooth surfaced object with a dull yellowing colour. There were no spices, no herbs. No evidence of any ingredients other than this strange hard textured… stuff. As I begin to take another bite, I notice a table next to me of people watching me. They are noticeably different from most within the hall. For one, they were all dressed in punk-rock clothing. Shoulders don metallic studded spikes. Beyond the dress code they each also possessed some kind of tech mutations to their Lenstech. Instead of simply wearing a lens they each had a visor of some kind with a mic piece. The visor blocked the top half of their face leaving the mouth area the only area visible. A sly smile glimmered upon each of their faces as they noticed my perplexed state whilst ingesting the so-called Nasi Goreng. As I gaze over towards the table, I notice a difference between this table and the others. As a starting point, none of the people gathered around the table were eating. They didn’t have any items of drink, food or even rubbish from food they had consumed upon the table. Secondly, there was a punk rock vibe that the group was giving off. They all had a set of biker boots. Their bodies were doused in leather. Each of their ear lobes were either stretched or punctuated with multiple piercings and they all had tattoos on whatever areas of their skin visible. Their edgy vibes were unnerving. As I was about to turn away to seek solitude in another corner of the room, the tallest within their groups stood up and walked towards me. ‘Whatcha got cookin there boy!’ She said in an American accent that was thickly laced with odd bits of German. I stood there perplexed, not really sure how best to engage in conversation whilst also escaping any further investigation from the group. I notice on her wrist an armband with the writing, THE REVS. Looking over towards the table I can see all of the group are wearing identical armbands. Ok, I guess these are the revs. ‘Well Hunter, you might find this confusing, but we’ve all been waiting for you for a rather long time. Follow me.” She instructed. ’ Without thinking, I nodded my head and followed the girl over towards the group. As I approached, the girl gestured to others. As she did, they all stood up and began to make their way out of the catering hall. At this point, questions began to pop into my mind. How did they know my name? Who……… It was at this point, I realised I had to stop questioning everything that happens to me. Trust the tide. See where it takes me. I swallowed the last bite of the strange food that wasn’t food but still was. Then followed the group out of the hall. As we spewed onto the street, the group made their way towards a small gathering of motorbikes. I was allocated a seat on the back of the leading girls motorbike, and soon, we were off. These bikes weren’t normal bikes. There was an electric whir that propelled us forward. What’s more, the girl wasn’t steering the bike. Instead, the wheels or atleast, where the wheels should be, was connected to a thin set of trails on the floor. The bike was positioned inside of the rails. With each corner we took, the bike would take into a new rail and so on and so forth. It was like some kind of magnetic track I assumed. No need for steering, just sit and drive. This wasn’t the kind of freestyle, happy go lucky biker experience I’d become used to during my time in Asia. But it was still kind of cool. Having said that, my expectations of a smooth monorail like experience were halted after a few minutes. As we glided through the neon flooded darkness, I noticed the bikers ahead of me turning their heads to look back down the street behind us. I follow suit and am met with an immediate feeling of doom as I see five Megocrop droids closing in on us from a distance. It seems they too are maneuvering down the streets guided by the tracks we are following. Only the drones seem to be faster than us. Within seconds they are soon to be upon us. The glow of the drones' red eyes were coming closer and closer. I can nearly make out the Megacorp logo upon their chest. The closest of them leans forward in its position, almost preparing to lunge towards me. My initial reaction is to squeeze my arms around the woman driving us forwards and scream ‘Look out!’ But before the words get to my lips she yells ‘Derail!’ and with a strong kicking motion with her right leg, the bike is thrust up and out of the rails it had been dictated by. All around me I notice the other bikers following suit. As soon as the bikes hit the tarmac around the rails it seems their engines are reborn. We fly faster and faster away from the drones behind us. The city is a matrix of tight turns and corners. We approach what looks like an old museum. It stands out as the only old thing I’ve seen since my arrival to Berlin. The roar of the engines gradually subsided as we arrived at our hidden underground sanctuary beneath the pulsating heart of the punk rock nightclub As we get closer we pass a small river, the bridge that's springs across the river banks thrusts us into the air. Upon landing, the bikers slow, darkness falls, we seem to have reached our destination. I turn my head over my shoulder in hopes that the megacorp drones have lost us. The absence of their deathly red light eyes speeding towards us confirms that the bikers have lost the drones. The air was thick with an intoxicating blend of anticipation and rebellion. Small groups of punks were lingering under a nearby streetlight. The street light flickered down upon their faces. Each one was filled with intrigue and fear as the biker group approached.My biker escort holds out a hand and gestures to me to follow as the group make their way down a small concrete stairway leading underground. I follow as requested. At the bottom of the stairs we path through an iron barred door similar to what I’d expect in a jail cell. Once I pass the threshold, I hear a metallic clang as one of the bikers closes the door behind me. As we found ourselves amidst the flickering glow of neon lights, the Underlings shed their masks, revealing faces adorned with tattoos, determination and a hint of vulnerability lingering in each eye. It was clear to me they had been through alot. As a group, they seemed battle hardened. They were a family. A community. It was within this family binding that I felt a growing sense of trust and security. Although I knew very little about them, I felt as though they were on my side. As we moved forwards into the room, each person took up a position within the matrix of computers, wiring and screens that hung from every inch of the room. On one screen in the corner of the room I notice a screen showing a scene I would never forget. There stood the doors to Datenshutz. It seemed Alfa and I were not alone in surveying the progress of The Human League. I wonder how long it took the revs to get a camera installed in that location. Next to the screen I see a board with a myriad of images and writing. I move closer only to find small pictures of myself and Alfa. It’s a storyboard of our journey so far. Almost as if someone is trying to map the dots together for where we might head next. As I move closer to investigate the board, conversations blossomed around me. A mix of German, european and american accents thrived throughout the room. Moments of silence were punctuated by the thump of music that hummed through the nightclub streets above. The discussion sounded alert, as if something hadn’t gone quite to plan. I allowed them a few minutes to discuss, before moving closer to the main group. As the conversation hastened, I feel immediately required to learn more about the discussion. I want in. I move closer to join the group huddled around a weathered table in the center of the room. I initiate discussion at the first opportunity. I asked, ‘Who are you, why am I here and how do you know me?’ Upon my question, the table all looked towards me. Silence ensued for a straight minute as they seemed to consciously consider their answer. It was the woman who had driven me to this location that replied. ‘My name is Erica and we are the revs. We’ve been living in Berlin for the past 5 years. We formed around 5 years ago when Zane over there’ she gestured towards a man wearing the same one eyed glass piece as Erica. He was sat in the in the corner of the room and barely lifted his head upon his name being mentioned. ‘Zane created the first black boxed LensTech solution. He’s the reason any of us are here. We all came for the black box Lens and then our group formed shortly after.’ ‘Black box LensTech?’ I asked curiously. ‘Wow, I have to say we thought Alfa would have brought you up to speed on this. Zane’s black box solution is based on one of the older LensTech models. Instead of the Lens being placed in your eye, it’s peripheral. Zane’s software means the Lens will operate without the interruption of the Megacorp Ad engine. Furthermore, when wearing it, you’re entirely off the grid. Over the past five years, Zane and our team have iterated upon the tech. The latest version really is something to behold. It looks like you are wearing one of our earlier versions. How did you get the LensTech you are currently wearing?’She moved closer and stopped in front of me. Leaning into my face she inspected by eye. Whilst doing so, I noticed a blue light flash across her right eye where her Black Box LenTech was housed. ‘Ah, yes, this is a very early model. Thankfully, you’ll be untraceable to Megacorp so we can sit here for sometime before we move on to our next location.’ ‘I’m glad to hear that, the Berlin Megacorp drones seem quite a handful’‘Oh them, trust me we’ve had worse. The drones of 3 to 4 years ago would have blasted us down on the spot. Since then, the Berlin populace has become subservient to Megacorps aims. They don’t cause much trouble. I’m sure Megacorp have now deployed the more weaponised drones in other locations. The ones chasing us are dummies. Sure they can beat a man down and make most conform, but when it comes to chasing down the revs on our bikes. They don’t stand a chance.’ She mentioned with a wry grin across her face. A few of the surrounding revs cheered upon this statement. It seemed there was a strong community vibe within all in this group. ‘Hunter, I must ask. How is it that you possess one of our Black Box LensTech devices?’‘Ah, a friend of mine gave it to me. Garret. He’s a great guy. A German actually now I come to remember.’ Upon mentioning Garrets name, as silence fell throughout the room. ‘Did I say something wrong?’ As I asked, a few heads around the table shared glances of mixed expression.‘‘We know Garret, he used to be one of us. A year or so ago he was tasked with surveillance of The Human League. We didn’t expect him to end up wanting to join them, but we are free people here. We come and go as we please. Is he well?’ ‘He’s very different. He’s now a Legionnaire. But I feel like he’s still in there somewhere. I hope he is.’ It was after this series of questions where the conversation took a turn towards myself. Questions around Alfa surfaced. The most common of all were in regards to if Alfa could be trusted. I replied yes, although a voice in my head still retained a season of doubt. I shook my head vigorously. Attempting to rid myself of such doubt. I am all in. Alfa is everything. In Alfa I must trust. If not, who am I? What am I? What am I doing? As the evening progressed, voices intermingled as they divulged their plans for a secret revolution. The Revs believed they could overthrow Megacorps reign over Berlin at first and then, gradually, bit by bit they hoped to empower other Megacorp owned regions to rebel. Their gazes ignited with fervor as they spoke of Alfa. It was clear they were keen for an alliance. The Revs showed slight hesitation upon me revealing Alfa’s new alliance with The Human League, but regardless their quest for collaboration continued. I was taken to a screen where they showed their research and discoveries about Megacoprs activity in Björkfors, Sweden and the enigmatic architecture of Project Honey Nest. They believed Project Honey Nest was now breeding human children for sacrifice on a regular basis.It was a relief to meet this group of likeminded people. It seemed they were each not to different from myself. It wasn’t so much that they were seeking to rebel or rebellious by nature. Instead, a quest for something else, something different, something new or maybe even something old was the driving force within each character. Each Rev member shared their unique talents they had acquired over the past few years, their stories of survival in the techno-dystopian maze of a reality they found themselves in. Their words resonated with a deep-rooted passion, painting a vivid tapestry of rebellion, progression and freedom.

As the night darkened, a bottle of whisky or two were presented. I listened intently, leaning forward to catch every nuance of conversation, every whispered confession, every moment of thoughtful silence. It felt as though we were at a crossroads. They and I both faced the same decision, it was time to act. But how? I pushed for an answer on what strategies they had in place. Aiming for information on their immediate plans. Sadly, their answers left me feeling as if there wasn’t a plan. Instead, one by one, they revealed their individual skills and beliefs for how they could contribute. Indeed they were planless, but the intricate web of their digital prowess was undeniable. The room filled with a symphony of techno-jargon, each member contributing their expertise like a virtuoso in a grand orchestra of resistance. Their hacking prowess, once veiled in secrecy, now unfolded before me like a mesmerizing dance of code. All of this power, this hacking might, but without a leader, without a plan it would all be left dortmund.

As the discussions deepened, the atmosphere grew hushed, enveloped in a veil of contemplation. I posed questions, my voice a catalyst for introspection. My aims were to probe them towards the realization I had come to. They needed a leader. They needed a plan. ‘How is it you’ve come all this way, you’ve survived this far, but I can’t see a leader in the room. We need someone to drive us, to hold us accountable, to make us one?’ I probed.

One member, known only as Cipher, leaned forward, his eyes were ablaze with a stream of complex thought. ‘I can see why you’d think this, but we are one. We do not require a leader. We’ve come this far due to our certain ability to adapt, survive and thrive within this city and we don’t plan on that coming to an end any time soon.’ Cipher retorted. I was glad to feel the hunger in his voice. He continued on to reveal the nature of their survival, the hidden lenses that allowed them to blend seamlessly into the city's fabric of control. Through the LensTech AR vision, they spoke of illusions and decoys, their voices laced with a sense of defiance against the all-seeing gaze of Megacorp.

The discussions shifted, morphing into contemplations of the revolution that simmered within each member's soul. With fervent determination, they laid bare their aspirations, their visions for a future where the oppressive reign of Megacorp would crumble under the weight of collective resistance. Ideas collided and intertwined, sparking debates that echoed through the cavernous space.

It was during these moments of reflection and camaraderie that a sense of unity flourished, weaving the tapestry of our shared purpose. Through the flickering neon lights, I glimpsed hope in their eyes, a flicker of defiance that transcended the boundaries of the underground sanctuary.

But just as our plans began to take shape, a sudden intrusion shattered the tranquility. Alfa's voice reverberated in my mind, delivered via the LensTech AR vision. ‘THEY ARE COMING’ The urgency in Alfa's tone was palpable as they warned us of Megacorp's imminent onslaught. Their drones, like vultures closing in on their prey, were relentlessly converging on our hidden sanctuary.

With hearts pounding in unison, we sprang into action. Gear was hastily gathered, each member driven by a shared sense of purpose. The underground passages welcomed us, their dimly lit corridors serving as conduits of hope and resistance. The pulsating beats of the nightclub above added an eerie rhythm to our footsteps, intensifying the urgency of our escape.

And so, the chase unfolded, a breathtaking symphony of high-stakes pursuit through the twisted arteries of Berlin's underworld. We darted through narrow passageways, our bodies propelled by a mix of adrenaline and determination. Megacorp's drones buzzed like malevolent insects, their mechanical eyes fixated on our every move.

In the midst of the chaos, danger lurked at every turn. A drone's laser beam sliced through the darkness, narrowly missing me as I dove for cover. The fear coursing through my veins mingled with an unyielding resolve. This was a battle for our lives, a testament to our unwavering commitment to dismantle Megacorp's grip on society.

But fate, it seemed, had different plans. Exhausted and with options dwindling, I found myself standing at the precipice of a risky decision. With a deep breath, I surrendered to the inevitable capture, knowing that my sacrifice was a vital stepping stone in the greater war against Megacorp. Knowing that in this moment, I was securing the Revs the continued freedom they had fought so hard for. Knowing that Megacorp within this moment, had won.

As the guards closed in, weapons poised, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of anticipation. This was not the end, but a strategic maneuver in a grander game. My capture marked a turning point, a chink in Megacorp's armor, and the beginning of an unprecedented chapter in the battle for freedom.Take me in. Take me to your leader. Take me to Megacorp.

And with that final thought darkness engulfed me.