Quoted By:
"NOT TO MENTION THE E-CORP REPRESENTIVE HAS BEEN LACKING. TO BE FRANK."
"Emily?" You chirp out. "What about her?"
"LET'S JUST SAY SHE'S BEEN RELUCANT TO HELP START NEGOTIATIONS."
So from what you've gathered, the higher ups are busy running themselves around in loops over which of the two companies to support and they're mismanaging their older recruits into doing jobs they abjectly hate. You have a gut feeling that given how old everyone looks, the stress levels of being here must be off the charts
The others seem to be getting the same idea but in different ways. Alexis is muttering about the legal red tape while Naomi glances around at her fellow elders with a disappointed, pitying gaze.
Kiara can only offer a bitter laugh at the absurdity of it. "No wonder why no one's joining if this is what happens when you sign up."
"Hm." You dig through your pocket to pull out that old soot stained camera. Naomi and Kiara immediately recognize that something is different about it but they don't comment on it. For now. Quincy and Alexis silently watch you as you turn it on.
"HUH?"
"What?" They question you.
"Kiara. Just start messing with some of the junk." You point the camcorder towards the messy desk. Just like you expected, she's not visible on the camera. Pointing it at Quincy, you also notice that he flatout doesn't appear. <span class="mu-b">Given androids are made and Drones are bugs, you'd imagine they are simply too 'young' to have a younger version to record.</span>
Kiara quickly nods her head. She spins around the desk in circles, fiddling around with the pieces of garbage on the desk. Much like the director <span class="mu-i">that piece of shit should've been instead of-</span>
That was not YOUR voice right there. Focus.
>21!
Almost immediately you get some footage of what's been going on here. A young man in his late 20s with messy hair and a massive scar across his cheek is smashing his fists on the keyboard. Given the sepia tone it coats everything and the weird aging down effect it does, it's safe to assume he's probably in his early to mid 40s in reality. A few other men, somewhere around their 30s (in reality 50s?) are trying to talk to him about something.
A faint static crackles through the PARADIGM's speaker. You strain to listen into what it's saying.
"...ton. you can't keep doing this. you know they're not going to acce..."
"...ut the fuck up! I'm trying, okay, after Olivia broke her..."
"...hen don't let them sign up? not our fault they're too weak to..."
The man with the scar rips off a note from his monitor in frustration, <span class="mu-b">putting it into his pocket.</span> He storms away from his computer after logging out. Then, it just shows the computer collecting more trash until eventually, nothing else can be gleamed.
"Quincy? Does the description "messy hair, massive scar' match with anyone who might have ton in their name?"
Quincy hums a bit. "HM. CLOSEST TO THAT IS PRESTON. LAST I CHECKED, HE WAS RECOVERING IN THE BARRACKS. WHY?"
