We don’t know how long it’s been since the Great Burn. All we know is, one day, the world shut off. Information became currency, and the Oners hoarded it, till the street peeps killed each other over scraps and the Oners died of starvation in their VR sims. Now though, now there’s just us -- the CCs. Carbon Copies. Clones, dig. Some geez in the day set a machine to pump us out if things turned left. Dug up the best of the best, see, and made us all. All of the greatest mankind had to offer, all living together, all at once. The bots built us a city, but now they’re getting ornery because of their messiah. Oh, did I not mention? The robots got a Jesus, and she needs our help. But what am I? My genes might be special but I’m nobody. I can only get things done when I do fugue, this killer drug that unlocks genetic memory. Only problem is, now I’m addicted, and every trip is threatening to drown me in my own ancestry... Ah well. If I die, I’ll just respawn.