M looked in front of him. Dreary metal walls surrounded him, except for one sole window. What did they do, he wondered.
Bags over heads, stacked next to one another in the cramped space he was peering into. Dim lights were barely visible over the densely packed, twitching group. Human bricks cemented together to save space. Maximising the space is efficiency.
He looked to his hands. Cold, unfeeling, he couldn't even feel the remote they clung to. He ran his finger over the singular button on the plastic rectangle. Once upon a time he might have struggled in his current situation, but he rarely felt anything anymore. Feelings were inefficient.
But today something sparked. Was it worth it? Did they deserve this? Everything said yes. Every voice ringing in his ears, every scene streamed straight to the corneas.
They had in fact, done nothing wrong. At least not by moral standards. But morality was a thing of the past, an era stitched together by the baying voices of confused masses. Bickering upon their differences like diseased hyenas over scrap meat. People were animals barking out their trivial views like dogs chasing after cars flying on the road. A smirk escaped M’s lips. How long had it been since he last saw a car? Since he last had a name, or felt his own skin? And then, as suddenly as it came, the spark in his eyes went out. M2's eyes glazed over. No thought was needed. Just efficiency.