A group of teenagers lounged outside the club, bass leaking through the thick walls behind them in dull, rhythmic pulses. Inside the walls, clubs ran under strict regulation. The noise had limits.
"Now that CGI's shut down all the ability schools," one of the boys said, leaning lazily against the graffiti-scarred wall, "I think they're getting ready to turn us all into Strays."
"Fuck you, Ryan." The only girl in the group raised a middle finger at him, her silver rings catching the neon glow from the club sign. "And fuck gift extraction."
"I don't even think there's anything outside these walls," another boy muttered. He kicked at a loose chunk of pavement, sending it skittering into the gutter. "I don't think there's another world out there at all."
