Chapter 1

As Noah Reed walked down the littered ground of Grime Street, he could hear the distant sound of an automated transport system passing by. The futuristic, sleek vehicles were a stark contrast to the crumbling buildings and rusted metal that surrounded him. This was his daily life - especially after working at the local diner throughout the day for his daily bread.

The world had changed since Noah's birth, but the slums of New York City remained a constant reminder of his place in society.

Grime Street was a place where fear reigned as a constant companion. The road of the street was narrow, and the buildings on either side were cramped together, their paint peeling and their windows boarded up. Piles of trash littered the gutters, and the air was thick with the stench of decay.

The pavement was cracked and uneven, and the few streetlights that remained flickered dimly in the darkness. Groups of rough-looking men and women huddled together in doorways, eyeing Noah warily as he passed by. Their faces were lined with weariness and despair, and he could see the hunger in their eyes.

As he made his way deeper into the heart of the slum, the buildings grew more dilapidated and the streets more treacherous. Broken glass crunched underfoot, and rats scurried across his path. The sound of distant sirens echoed through the air, a constant reminder of the danger that lurked just beyond the shadows.

Noah shivered, his thin jacket offering little protection against the cold. He rubbed his hands together, trying to generate some warmth in his most weather-appropriate clothes that he wore. He had worn a faded red hoodie, the sleeves a bit too short for his lanky arms, and layered over a threadbare gray t-shirt. At least he was putting on a denim jacket, whose collar popped up to shield his neck from the cold wind that howled down Grime Street. The pair of jeans he wore were frayed at the cuffs and stained with who-knows-what, but he didn't care. They were warm enough and still had some life left in them, and his sneakers, though worn out, managed to cover his feet properly from the cold and damp ground.

He knew he had to keep moving, had to keep fighting to survive in this harsh and unforgiving world. But as he looked around at the desolate landscape that surrounded him, he couldn't help but wonder if he would ever escape the poverty and misery of Grime Street. He wondered if he was ever going to see the light like the big ones in the city. This was all he had ever known in his life. As for wealth, he had no idea what it tasted like or felt like but he has always had this constant nudge in his heart telling him that he was destined for it. That he was destined to be wealthy. It was a thought that would constantly visit and as usual, he would wave it off as he didn't think of the possibility of ever being in that state. The only thing that was left for him was his determination to be seen and he wasn't going to give up no matter what it would take.

Noah had grown up in this area, and the squalor of his surroundings had long ceased to shock him. But it wasn't just the dirt and decay that made Grime Street an unpleasant place to live - it was the people. The neighborhood was rife with gangs and other criminal elements, and the threat of violence always lingered in the air -- Drug addicts, prostitutes, and homeless people roamed the streets, seeking their next fix or meal. Gangs and other criminal organizations hold sway over large portions of the neighborhood, and violence is a common occurrence. The sound of gunshots echoed through the night, and the constant sound of police sirens and gunshots punctuated the air, a grim reminder of the ever-present threat of violence.

Noah knows better than to get involved in the affairs of the local gangs, but he's seen firsthand the brutality they're capable of. He's seen people beaten and left for dead, and he's heard stories of kidnappings and other unspeakable crimes.

Despite the danger, Noah has managed to survive in Grime Street by keeping his head down and avoiding trouble. But he knows that one misstep could be his undoing, and he's always on guard, watching his back as he moves through the streets.

Despite these challenges, Noah was determined to rise above his circumstances. He had a gift for technology, and he spent most of his days tinkering with old electronics and teaching himself new programming languages. But even with his knowledge and talent, he struggled to find work that paid enough to escape the slums.

Noah's parents had died when he was young, leaving him to fend for himself. He had learned to be self-sufficient, but he had also learned to keep his head down and avoid drawing too much attention to himself. He knew that being too visible could attract unwanted attention from the gangs and other unsavory characters in the area.

As he approached his run-down apartment building, Noah's thoughts turned to his dreams of working for Nexus, the greatest tech company in New York and one of the greatest in the world. He had been sending out resumes and trying to make connections, but so far, nothing had panned out.

But Noah refused to give up. He had a fierce determination to succeed, no matter what the cost. And even as he trudged up the dimly lit stairwell to his apartment, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope for the future.

"Hello baby boy... Want an ass for tonight? It's cold out here you know..." Came the voice of one of the prostitutes that lived in one of the rented apartments in the building. 

Noah was already used to hearing things like that and as usual, he ignored her as he cornered his way through and went into his apartment.

His home was a small, run-down apartment located in one of the buildings of Grime Street. The walls had cracks here and there, and the door had a gaping hole where the doorknob once was. He always made sure to stick rag or rough paper into it and as usual, whenever he would return from work, the paper or clothing would no longer be there. This was the handiwork of the street kids who derived joy in peeping into his home.

Inside, the air was thick with the stench of mold and mildew, and the dim lighting cast eerie shadows on the peeling walls. The floor was uneven, and Noah had to be careful not to trip on the frayed carpet that covered it. The furniture was sparse and worn, consisting of a rickety table and chair, and a threadbare mattress on the floor. In the corner, a leaky pipe dripped water into a bucket. He always forgets to fix it but at least, the buckets keep the floor from getting drenched. Despite its dilapidated condition, it was all Noah could afford, and he did his best to keep it as clean and livable as possible.

He settled on his couch and emptied his pockets, bringing out all the money he made for the day and laying it on the table. He counted the cash and he was impressed with the total of it - a whopping $254.30. Most of the cash was tipped to him by a few that admired his looks (men and women alike).

For the first time that night, a smile etched on his face. At least he was working hard for himself and he would be able to afford some things for himself. 

Working at a diner was never part of the plan but he just had to settle for it as that was the only way he could make ends meet legally. He relaxed his head at the end of the couch, staring at the ceiling as though he was seeking answers from there, then he let out an exhale before he got up to go and fix himself a meal.

As he was about to maneuver his way into his little kitchen, he heard a heavy knock on the door.