If you looked down on the city called Etha, you would see train tracks wrapping around every skyscraper in the city, every neighbourhood and into the abyss of the drifts. The drifts are based on an old sub-structure of the city with no daylight or fresh air, truly the pitts of the city.
Beyond the city lays thousands of kilometers of farm land, small towns and the mega-structure Stratos Coloseum. Nearly five hundred meters high with a diameter of over seven hundred meters, the silver Coloseum now screamed with excitement. Massive sheets made of an organic liquid electronic mesh were freshly draped on the Coloseums sides, displaying the EUCs symbol. A picture of earth with an eagle atop the globe, the three colonies small in the backround. On the bottom were the words unity, service, honour.
Trains magnetically hovering in Etha made their last stops for inter-city transport. Every train re-routed towards the Coloseum, ferrying a quarter of Ethas citizens, carrying children, bags and importantly- their phones. On the edge of the city, a thin man with a scar across his forehead called Dech stepped into a line for a large train. He shifted his backpack, feeling the shock tasers weight. Guards stood by the train, asking for cell-phones to scan. The scarred man took a swig of vodka. He put his arm up to his mouth, letting the moon-shine soak into the fabric. His turn came and a guard wearing a black visor asked "Phone sir?"
The guard frowned at his atrocious breath, eyes flickering to Dech's stained sleeve "Phone sir."
Dech slowly checked his pockets while his phone automatically hacked the guards visor. The guard impatiently demanded "Sir, your phone!"
"Got it here!"
The guard snatched it out of his hand with a black hand. His visor scanned the phone, showing a homeless mans ID. The guard shoved the phone back into the scarred mans hand and said "Last car!"
Dech stepped into the last train car, pulling his hood over his eyes to hide his face. He sat on a plastic chair, pushing the vodka underneath his seat with a mix of longing and distaste.
The train moved, speeding towards the Stratos Coloseum at seven hundred kilometers per hour. Dech cringed as a few men cried out their wagers, ready to see blood. He tried his hardest not to cry- crying wouldn't do. Thinking always became harder once the tears came. Finally, the train stopped at the Coloseums twentieth level. Two thousand people disembarked to find a seat overlooking the massive stage below. Dech swiftly moved through the crowd, walking into a public change-room. He donned a guards uniform, tipping the cap below his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he walked back into the crowd as an announcer boomed "Ladies and gentleman, welcome to the seventy-eight Cleansing!"