The Fall of Icarus (Cyberpunk)

Wandering from one house to another, young Alex had gone quite far and, without realizing it, strayed into a more dangerous area. The Tiger Claws controlled not all of Japan-Town, but only some of it. Gangs constantly fought over territories, and Alex had wandered right into the territory of the Scavengers. The "Scavengers" had no specific ideology. They didn't care about anything except themselves and their profits. They were ruthless and lacked even a semblance of moral principles, and they weren't afraid to get their hands dirty.

Theft of cyber implants and organs was a dirty but profitable business, and the gangsters occupied this niche by attacking defenseless passersby. They were incredibly cruel; human life meant nothing to them. To a "Scavenger," a person is just a set of goods that can be sold on the black market.

Previously, the "Scavengers" didn't have a specific territory with clearly defined borders; their groups were scattered throughout the city. The locations of this gang's presence can be identified by characteristic graffiti, which serves as a hint for some and a warning for others. Due to such disunity, they often formed small groups with almost no hierarchy or structure, although the leader of such groups was often the most unprincipled, savage, and cunning scoundrel. Alex was lucky he hadn't yet encountered anyone from this brotherhood. The gangsters were ruthless, and alone, a homeless child wandering the streets was easy prey for these brutes.

"What's this?" The boy approached another grate, one he could squeeze through. Sticking his head inside, he looked around and smiled with satisfaction. Although the light inside was dim, it was relatively dry and, more importantly, seemed safe. If he was lucky, he might even find something useful. Alex hoped for a coil of aluminum wire, or at worst, some kind of hook to snag food from vending machines.

Having squeezed through the narrow gap, Alex landed softly on the dry stone floor and breathed a sigh of relief. He understood it was too early to celebrate. If there was light inside, the basement might be inhabited. Wandering around, he found a door that led to another room. The floor was littered with trash, but amidst it, Alex found a lot of cobwebs. Perhaps the place was abandoned or rarely used.

The boy's first task was to tidy up a bit, to make the space more livable. The bags of construction debris weren't too heavy, and he managed to move them to one corner, freeing up the rest of the space. As Alex cleaned, he found a few useful items: a roll of thin synthetic twine, a holey mattress that could be used for sleeping, a thin piece of rebar, and a rusty adjustable wrench. As a self-defense weapon, it was adequate, but the boy knew he couldn't defend himself against adults with it. The wrench was meant for fights with other homeless kids like himself.

Alex handled the tool with confidence, but he didn't think much of it. His memory of an adult body, for which such a small weight was insignificant, was still fresh in his mind. He couldn't remember his last name or acquaintances, but his other memories were intact. He knew a lot and was skilled in many things, but all that knowledge was secondary to his current reality. Alex was an adult who had woken up in the body of a child.

"Now I can get some food," he nodded to himself, looking at the makeshift barricade he had built from the surrounding debris. It could be knocked down, but the time it would take to do so would allow the boy to quickly leave the basement undetected. Approaching the exit, young Alex pulled himself up and stuck his head out, scanning the alley for any strangers. Fortunately, there was no one outside, and he managed to climb out with some effort.

Brushing himself off, Alex sighed heavily, checking that the adjustable wrench tucked inside his jacket hadn't fallen out. Then he slowly walked towards the vending machine, holding a piece of rebar he had found in a trash bag. He was worried that it might not be enough; the rod was quite small, about the size of a child's forearm. First, he needed to try, and then think of other options if necessary. The hungry child's mind couldn't come up with any new ideas just yet.

"Ah, there you are," the boy smiled as he leaned towards the vending machine. First, Alex tried to stick his hand inside to check if it could fit. But he hadn't anticipated the machine's anti-tampering features. As soon as his hand touched the metal shutter, he was shocked by an electric current, and a warning appeared on the machine's screen. "Didn't work, the creators are smarter than I thought," young Alex concluded sadly, looking longingly at the food locked inside the greedy machine.

"Looking for something to eat?" A boyish voice sounded from behind him.

"What's it to you?" Alex turned to face the stranger, his arms crossed in displeasure. Standing before him was a dark-haired boy, about fourteen years old, wearing dirty, patched clothes. "Life has certainly been tough on him," Alex thought.

"Just curious to see who would be dumb enough to stick their hand in that meat grinder. You're lucky this machine is long broken, otherwise a mild electric shock would be the least of your worries," the boy said patronizingly, jumping off the railings onto the ground.

"Anyway, I see you're not from around here, and you've got some nice clothes. Care to share where you got them?" the homeless boy inquired, circling Alex with interest.

"I'll ask again, what's it to you?" Alex didn't perceive the child as a threat. The once-adult man didn't see the curious ragamuffin as a danger. He was somewhat amused, watching the stranger trying to appear much more intimidating than he was.

"Hey choom, I'm just trying to be friendly here. Things happen on the streets, and you're not here because of a good life, right?" the boy raised an eyebrow dramatically. "Let's just introduce ourselves; it's awkward to keep saying 'Hey you'. I'm Marco, and you are?"

"Alex," the boy grunted. "Is that all you wanted from me?" Alex tilted his head inquisitively.

"Of course not, choom. I just thought I'd be a bit polite for a change. You're a nova, right?" Marco smiled, hands behind his head.

"Sorry to ask, but are you speaking Elvish or something to me? What's 'choomba ' and 'nova'?" Alex asked, his curiosity evident, which left his interlocutor momentarily stunned.

"Are you clueless? Alright, I'll explain it simply," Marco replied, making a fist and extending his index finger upwards. "'choomba ' is like a buddy, and 'nova'..." Seeing Alex's confusion, he shook his head and continued, "You've seen stars, right? They're bright and cool. Get it?"

The street kid crossed his arms.

"Well, you certainly tried to make it clear, I think I got it, choomba ," Alex ended his sentence with a hint of sarcasm, making it clear to his interlocutor that he was being teased.

"You're too cheeky, Alex. That's not appreciated on the streets. Here's a piece of advice, it's better to stay quiet sometimes to keep safe. Who knows, some cabron* might be carrying his dad's gun, happy to shoot you with it," the teenager offered some sound advice.

"Maybe you're right," the brunette admitted, raising his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Sorry if I offended you, it's just that I haven't eaten all day and I'm in a pretty bad mood."

"Heh, I get it, but I can't give you anything, I'm wandering around looking for food myself. Though, I do have an idea, if you're good at running fast," Marco said intriguingly, squinting at Alex.

"What good would I be to you? You're not asking me to join your crew out of the kindness of your heart," Alex squinted back.

"Look, I've got a gang of four amigos, including myself. It's easier to live together than alone, and I'm just trying to improve my chances of survival."

"Sounds logical," young Alex nodded. "Alright, I'm in. It's not like I have a lot of options," Alex agreed, extending his hand.

"That's the spirit, choomba !" Marco beamed, shaking the offered hand. "Don't worry, I know these alleys like the back of my hand. In a week, you'll be able to navigate them as well as I do. Alright, enough talk, follow me." The teenager grabbed the dark-haired boy and pulled him along.

"I hope I won't regret this," Alex thought, shaking his head as he looked around.

[Note: *'Cabron' is a slang term, often used in Spanish-speaking communities, implying a tough or bad guy.]