[Not going to start this yet, not until I finish "The Ancient Path".
Basically, it's set in the future, 2,700 A.D. or, as they no longer use
that, the fourteenth year of Plusin, 14 Plusin(Plusin was the leader of
the world, managing to overcome a food crisis, averted a war and such
stuff). I'm just bored at the moment, and so am going to start writing
the introduction. Basically, you buy weapons and stuff for your machine
thing(humans no longer walk around on their feet, or use their hands,
they use a robot sort of thing to move around and do stuff with. They
still need the legs and arms to control it, but scientists are working
on a way around that. They come in a variety of shapes and sizes, all being a bit bigger than a man at least.]
Hovercars(the robots people travel around in can change in different
things(actually, only two), hovercars with a chair that folds back into a bed, which can fly around at
break-neck speeds, but usually don't, and the robot things(called
robomen. These guys of the future aren't very original when it comes to
names), which are sort of like people, only bigger and stronger and
quicker etc.) flew around above the grimy streets of Pluson, a few
robomen trampling along below. A lone roboman stood, waiting, its passenger eating out of a brown bag with the words Plusinic Take-away Dinners written on it, some sort of meat and chips. The meat, the occupant knew, was grown in a lab, there was no real meat anymore, for there were few mammals or birds. Sereval cameras were trained on the solitary figure, dozens more pointing at others rushing by. There was no privacy anymore.
The man inside the machine sighed. Every action seen, every whisper heard, every moment intruded upon. If anything illegal was done, at least by an important figure like him, they would be blown to pieces along with the robomen. Each one was fitted with a device to explode and kill the occupant inside, but no-one else. No one dared stand up against this, their spirits were crushed, they were merely beings to control robots to do work. The cameras trained their sights on the figure moreso now, an unmoving figure was work not done and time wasted. All information about the roboman and its person were uploaded in a fraction of a second, fingers hovered over a destruct button. Not that the single man could do much, but he would be an example, along with the hundreds of others killed each day.
The button was pressed. Nothing happened. It was pressed again, with the same result. A thousand voices hummed on computers, a thousand buttons were pressed, but to no effect. For the man had disabled all control over the roboman apart from his own. The door slowly slid open on the roboman, halting others in their tracks. The man climbed out, and fell to the ground, dead. The toxic fumes in the air killed him in moments. But, a single note lay in his hand, fingers curled around the precious thing. Seven words, each capable of destroying Earth.
