"Jimmy, can we really believe this stuff?" As an chime fills the room the words mechanical quickly fill the air, "I'm sorry sir, could you repeat the question?"

Nigel's questioning expression quickly devolved into a frown. "Some day... you may actually have a way to answer that. For now I'll have to entertain that means a 'No.'".

The room continue to flood with notifications of various kinds; pings, melodic notes, and even a few buzzes that sounded like old dildos but where clearly from classic smart phones hacked to still work as custom cyberdecks.

"This shite is crazy", Nigel explained to himself. More thinking though a problem than a discussion with himself or the digital assistant program running on his deck. "The media keeps telling the normies that its something or other and the politicians keep getting paid off. To, what make that narrative happen!? Its like someone wants the population living in a Panopticon."

Another notification flashed, this time it stated: "N. Come to the place it started. You know what is going down."

"Oi, shite. Jimmy, keep the fort. I got some business to attend.", and with that Nigel left his apartment on Kensington ave. in the lower west side of Capital City and dashed off to catch the latest subway tram.