He had been a big part of it. He had been one of them. But then it got bad. Obstacles obstructed their path and he lost the faith to go on. He dropped off. Dropped off the grid, left his only friends. Sometimes he regretted it, especially when he heared about them dying in the news. He blamed himself. He cried once in a while but soon he forgot about it. What was once his whole life was now nothing to him. No more late night cop chases, no more killing, no more stealing to live. He was living easily now. But soon he became restless. His body missed the action, his mind had forgotten. Then he began to realize, began to understand, he began to remember. He had to get back into it. He wanted to be on the grid. He wanted excitement. That night he left his apartment and descended into the underground, into his real home.