o the His name was Rex Gunner and he was out on the town with a knife in his hand. Up above his head, hoover-cars puttered along like blue and red fireflies. On the street before him, spidery walker-mobiles chugged out smoke as they carried hooded men and women.
Rex slipped through a crowd of old men, slinking into an alleyway, tucking his knife into his sleeve. Three of the old men from the crowd dropped down to the ground, blood draining from dozens of wounds. A single droplet of blood slipped from the edge of Rex's knife. The three old men were dead before Rex left the crowd and Rex was, altogether, gone by the time the crowd sparked up into a panic.
Rex was one of three, but he was the spark while they were the explosion. His knife was quick and silent while they'd be loud with shotguns and grenades. None of them knew the others' names, but the two that remained had the same job, but from opposite sides. They were to herd the crowd into one other, cause a stampede, cause them to trample one another. Toward the end, with all the blood spilt and all the bone broken. All three had disappeared, having injected the right amount of chaos into Malm, the last city of Man.
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