EXT. CENTRAL CITY MAGLEV PLATFORM – EVENING
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The station roars with rush‑hour chaos: drones unloading crates, Operator commuters flashing datasheets, Labor bots shoving to make the next train. Jason pushes through with practiced indifference, cradling a plain cardboard bag.
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JASON (V.O.)
“Same sardine can, new headache. One day I’ll invent personal teleporters and retire rich.”
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Doors hiss. He boards, finds a pole, locks his boots. Two Operator bots eye his grease‑stained armor, scoot three steps away. He just smirks.
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JASON (under breath)
“Yeah, I’m the scary one. I only saved your firewall yesterday.”
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INT. MAGLEV CAR – CONTINUOUS
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Neon ads flicker above: “VISION TECH LEGACY EXPO—Relive the Past!” Jason ignores them, focused on the bag in his hand. He peeks inside: two identical no‑brand texter handsets—bare‑bones comm devices, plastisteel shells, cheap as oil rations.*
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JASON (V.O.)
“All I needed was a new phone. But no— now I’m caretaker to two walking war crimes with the social skills of caffeinated pigeons.”
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Flashback overlay: the electronics shop earlier—aisles of shiny, overpriced datapads. Jason at the bargain bin, price‑tagging the only models under twenty cred‑cores.
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SHOP CLERK (echo)
“These come with a half‑cycle warranty and minimal exploding risk!”
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JASON (echo)
“Perfect. I’ll take two.”
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Back to the train. Jason grips the pole as the Maglev jolts, eyes tired but amused.
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JASON (to himself)
“Hope they like monochrome screens. And 2G reception.”
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A trio of cadets from earlier board another car; one spots him, waves timidly through the glass. Jason gives a small salute back, tries not to look like a role model.
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JASON (V.O.)
“At least paperwork is done. Just need to survive the commute, dodge the landlord, and stop A from microwaving the cutlery.”
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Maglev whooshes into the tunnel toward the residential sector. Jason pockets the phones, leans back, and allows himself a rare, tiny smile.
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JASON
“Home sweet chaos cube, here I come.”
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Train lights strobe past, city humming beyond.
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