had had a long day at the office, writing up the findings from her latest trip for her superior's stupid drones. It was idiotic to have to take a bunch of robots with cameras on missions and then have to repeat everything to different robots in the present, but it was protocol.

Runa was from the years before the great migration, when the people of the world were preparing to leave Earth. Back then, all bureaucracy and pretensions had been set aside with the excuse of allowing as many people as possible to board the ships and escape the planet. Things were done quickly, without paperwork or questions. The only problem was that each family had to fend for itself, and if someone was left behind, there was no recourse to the authorities.

The end result of that century was that many were left behind on Earth, with at least 8 million people perishing. After that, the survivors rebuilt humanity with a deep phobia of anarchy.

In hindsight, very few people must have made it to the ships, which was perhaps always the intention of the world's governments. Part of what caused the problems on Earth was overpopulation, so it made sense that world leaders would not want to suffer exactly the same thing in their new homes.

The fact that many of the ships exploded before leaving Earth's atmosphere must have been particularly convenient for them.

Runa had not lived to see this. She was killed months before she could board her designated rescue ship. She was stabbed by teenagers. Runa had not known their reasons.

In any case, she had never managed to adapt to the bureaucracy of AEONALIZE, which only led her superiors to add more processes to her records in case she omitted something.

Runa finished her fourth oral essay, and when the drone light flashed ‘accepted,’ she rose from her chair with a grunt.

Her superior's dreary office was wallpapered in hideous shades of grey and brown, with an office chair whose wheels got stuck in the grey carpet every five seconds. On the walls were portraits of artists with awful hairstyles that seemed to have been created with explosions, and for some reason, a photo of a cat hanging from a cable. Runa assumed it was all from her superior's era. A kind of tacky window into the history of humanity.

At least in the cafeteria, transactions were simple. She could order something greasy and salty and try to eavesdrop on other people's conversations. That was the only thing she envied about the 20th century: good food. Before her time, that is, before the anarchy, there were too many laws for everything, so many delicacies ended up being banned by the government on the pretext that they were unhealthy. In the end, these highly addictive foods ended up becoming extinct long before she was born.

She sat down at the table behind the famous Syn Valley, if only to see if she could pick up any good gossip, something to distract her from her own shitty day.

At first, she didn't understand much of the conversation, but then, when she downloaded the new language update—there were about six a month—she realised that the newcomer was calling Syn ‘eunuch’ every two or three sentences, while the other was trying to conduct a reasonably civilised job interview. It was too hard to hold back her laughter, and more than once, Syn glanced over at her.

The cubicles in the cafeteria offered no privacy whatsoever, separated only by glass panels that didn't reach the ceiling, which was decorated with hollow tubular shapes that seemed to transmit sound more efficiently.

Little by little, more and more drones approached them, sensing the beginning of something.

Runa hated the sound of those things. Other diners also approached, knowing Syn's reputation, hence changing tables to get closer.

Then, out of nowhere, someone mentioned the word ‘Alexandria,’ and all hell broke loose. The newcomer grabbed Syn by the neck and dragged him to the floor, to the delight of everyone around them.

No one got up to help them, as they knew the protocol. The only one showing any emotion was the woman who was with them, screaming hysterically for Syn to let go of the newcomer.

The strange man held Syn by the collar of his suit and shook him, shouting something like ‘Idiot eunuch!’ while repeatedly slamming him against the floor. Syn only groaned, waving his hands uselessly.

Between this and the drones firing their beams, less than a second must have passed, but to the spectators it seemed like an eternity.

Soon both men were paralysed, grinding their teeth on the floor. The woman just massaged her temples with her fingers. Finally, she sat down to eat again, pretending that none of this mattered to her, just like everyone else in the room.

Runa had ordered some French fries, 20th-century style—whatever timeline that was—and was shovelling them into her mouth as she watched everything unfold, doing her part to feign disinterest. She tried to cover her face with one hand, but she obviously couldn't stop watching as her two friends made fools of themselves in front of hundreds of people.

Finally, the drones stopped discharging electricity on them, and the two men sprawled on the floor like rag dolls. Curiously, the stranger continued to mutter threats and question Syn's genital integrity even after he had passed out.

When two guards arrived to take the perpetrators away, the crowd of onlookers had to stifle a long, mournful ‘aaaaw,’ as the entertainment was over. The woman who had been with the other two sat at the table, leaning against the white-tiled wall, clearly holding back tears.

And sadly, the café returned to the depressing peace that infected all areas of the AEONALIZE complex.