I hear ya, choom. The whole rock's fucked and we're just the last few koyo to slide off it. Though, I used to know a scrappy olblood from way back. Not even ink on 'im, much less any shine. Last I heard, though: one of his homemade bunker betties glitched and fried him instead. It's almost worth a stroll up the hill, to see if he's still kickin', but I prefer my face attached as it is.