In the not too distant future, the major nations of Earth have resorted to turning their cities into dystopian police states, with harsh punishments and intrusive A.I built to monitor and ensure everyone was being an upstanding moral paragon; a law abiding citizen who did as they were told. Not even the land of democracy could last before caving to the benefits a tyrannical city state could provide; with crime rates plummeting to an all time low with renewed productivity and advancements in the field of cybernetics and the human augmentation making breakthrough discoveries that flipped the world of medicine and science on its head.

But not everyone saw the benefit of a rapidly advancing society, with only a select few pockets of civilization existing on their own outside the influence of the strictly monitored bastions of human expansion, the people that remained within the walls had begun to grow restless, tired of being ordered around and abused by those in higher seats of power with the widening gap between the rich and the poor. Some would choose to turtle on in their fruitless endeavour to find a place in society, while others would take to a life of crime and vigilantism; robbing banks, sabotaging government infrastructure and beating down repeat offenders when the police weren’t doing their jobs.

The risks were high; with the penalties for even the most simplest of offences being so severe that if any of these rogues were caught, it meant either a life imprisonment or a death sentence, with some vanishing all together, probably to be used in some off the books experiment by the many corporations vying to earn the praise of their masters up high. To be a state branded criminal, one had to accept the fact that the next run or op could very well be their last.

Such was the case for Dennings; a wizard with technology and a member of one of the more prominent crime syndicates within the city he lived in all his life. Working in the relative safety of the darkness to support his people and to keep his belly filled. But he wanted to pull off at least one big gig in his life, not for the glory but just to show he could. Only held back by the fact that his people still needed him.

But after their HQ had been discovered and most of the bigwigs either taken out or captured, Dennings had taken the chance to hack the entire city network and the AI that ensured it all ran smoothly, screwing up vital systems like transportation and automated services and causing all hell to break loose.

By the time they had secured Dennings and had him detained in a secure prison cell, half the city had gone up in flames. It had certainly given Dennings the time to laugh at his work and think things through as the stooges worked to rebuild.

And when they were done fixing the city, the time would finally come to sentence Dennings to whatever punishment they had in mind, with the cynical young man resigned to his fate following along silently under the watchful eyes of two armored soldiers.

But instead of the execution room or the far more nightmarish labs where unspeakable things took place, Dennings had found himself stuffed into the back of a military transport meant for cargo with no visible windows inside to peer out from. Left to his own devices as he feels the vehicle roar to life before speeding off to an unknown destination.

Pretty soon, the audible noise of the bustling cityscape outside would begin to fade, leaving Dennings alone in the dark with the occasional rumble as the car drives over rocks and bumps in the road, trying his hardest not to get too excited as the temperature in the back begins to rise considerably, feeling humid and frustrated as the prisoners vest begins to cling to his sweaty skin, his cuffed wrists leaving him unable to even adjust the hem of his sleeves.

Left with nothing to do and the heat in the cramped compartment beginning to weigh down on him like a fluffy blanket, Dennings soon finds himself lying down on the equally warm metal floor of the vehicle, the gentle bumps and hums from the engine lulling him to sleep. Dreaming of a far more pleasant experience than whatever awaited him at the end of the road…

He wasn't sure how much time had passed since his trip had started, but from the amazingly bright glare of the sun in his eyes the moment he had been dragged outside, interrupting his beauty sleep, he had to assume it was already late in the afternoon.

Struggling against his captor's incredibly strong grip, Dennings could do little to resist as the armored men slap a smooth metal chip over his ankles, feeling the devilish device take root in his own flesh as the payload of nanites begin to flow throughout his body. He was firmly aware of what these things were in his long standing career as a technological sleuth and prominent hacker; Bio-trackers, meant to monitor and enforce obedience through pain depending on the model.

By the time they had laid Dennings bare feet on the dusty soil, the men had already retreated back to their vehicle, leaving him alone as the last soldier brushes by him, eager to get back to the comforts of the city with the transport kicking up a cloud of dust as it spins round and heads back down the unmaintained road. The faint silhouettes of skyscrapers on the horizon informing Dennings how far flung he was away from civilization, surrounded by a stretch of arid land all around. Escape wasn't an option.

Even if he ran, the heat from the sun would make his death an agonizing one to be sure, and if by chance he could survive till nightfall? Hypothermia would make sure he would meet his end.

"So, you’s that criminal done goof in the city? C’mon son, lemme get ah good look’it chu."

Hearing the voice of a gruff old man with a heavy southern drawl was enough to spin Dennings on his heel, facing an imposing figure dressed up in a checkered red shirt with worn suspenders holding back his enormous belly. Enormous muscle laden arms belying his true strength patting Dennings down before recoiling at the dampness, taking a whimsical sniff before scrunching his face up in disgust.

"Eugh, them guard fellers didn'letchu shower or something? Come along son, let's getchu washed up and changed!"

It had all happened so fast it seemed like a fever dream, blinking a few times as he watched the eccentric man stomped off towards a modest wooden building in the distance. Drawing Dennings' eye to the surrounding farmland with fenced off sections containing cows, pigs and even horses feasting on the patches of brown grass. In all his time alive, he'd never seen a living animal before besides the gutter rats that infested the lower quarters of the city. Was he on a farm? Why was he on a farm?

But standing outside in the terrible heat wasn't going to answer anything. Left without a choice, the convicted hacker limps off toward the house, casting a skeptical glance over the bulky silhouette of the strange man who seemed a tad bit too cheerful.

Up close though, Dennings eyes up the cozy building, stepping into the well kept home barefooted and peering into what looked to be the living room, complete with a coffee table, a couch and what looked like a jukebox in the corner.

"C'mon son, water's hot and ready ta go! First door to yer left!"

It was an uncomfortable experience to say the least, for Dennings who hadn't felt the slightest hint of marital love from parents he never even knew the faces of, being provided a fresh change of clothes that were a size or two too small for him after a nice warm shower complete with soap and shampoo by a complete stranger had him baffled. But he knew deep down that this had to be a ploy by whatever stooge the government had in charge of him, they wouldn't just dump him far outside the city with zero repercussions to what he did. And from what he could tell, the man had to be in cahoots with the guards from earlier.

He needed to act first…

Turning off the shower head, the cautious young man slowly exits the bathroom fully clothed and dried, making his way towards the kitchen he had spotted earlier to find no one around at all, a good chance to arm himself with a viable weapon.

'Can't trust that creep at all…'

And after a quick inspection of all the cupboards, Dennings reaches out for a sizable cleaver he could easily hide in his back pocket and whip out in times of danger.

But the instant his hands wrapped around the smooth leather grip, a brilliant pain races up his spine, forcing a pained shouts of him as he stumbles to the floor, sending furniture and cutlery flying as more white spots of searing pain fill his body all over from the various knives, forks and choppers falling down around him. Some simply bounced off harmlessly while others found purchase in his pale skin, cutting and stabbing where they fell.

By the time the man had come running back towards the source of the shout, Dennings had been completely immobilised by the shock of the neural attack setting all his nerves on fire.

"Gosh darnit, what'da hell'd ya do son?”

After a quick patching up on the couch and recovering enough from the initial shock, Dennings had taken the chance to ask why the man was doing this, angered by how shackled he felt with the government's new leash over his actions and over the kindness he was showing toward a criminal like him.

"Look…s-sir? Why're you even doing all this for me? You already know I'm some convict right?"

Pausing mid way through bandaging up an especially deep cut, the bearded man lifts a brow in contempt before resuming his work. As if something about what Dennnings had said had triggered him.

"So you was expecting me ta letchu rot? Don’t be treatin’ yerself like that son…life’s ah precious thang…”

The room falls silent after that, save for the occasional snip of the scissors as the disgruntled man finishes up with the final cut, rising to his feet and heading straight for the exit. Giving one last look at him before rubbing his bearded chin with a thoughtful hand.

"Look, ah gotta go tend to the fields’for nightfall so grab a bite and rest up alright? Take da first room to yer left upstairs, we’ll talk when d’morrow comes.”

Before Dennings could even say his thanks, the man had already left the house with his footsteps crunching on the dried grass outside fading away. Left with nothing to do, Dennings takes one glance around the kitchen, snagging a bar of what looked like cheese from the fridge before going upstairs, still not used to the way the wooden floorboards creaked at his every step before opening the door to the room he had directed him to.

He didn’t even have a real bed to call his own back at the dinghy substation he had been using as his base of operations back at the city, so coming upon this quaint little bedroom complete with a comfy authentic mattress and a sturdy wooden frame was a surprise to him. In a modern world where most materials had been replaced with artificial constructs, being in an old world home felt like a trip through time.

Even the taste and texture of the cheese in his mouth as he laid on the warm sheets seemed to fill his chest with a warm sensation unlike that of the organic sludge that could replicate any flavour imaginable. It was almost hard to imagine he was in a jail cell just a few hours ago.

"What the hell is going on here…"

To make matters worse, the house he was in didn't seem to even have a lick of modern technology to pass the time with. No television, not even a laptop, the place reminded him of an elderly retirement home.

But in his dreary state and having not bathed in what felt like forever, his aching limbs and filled tummy would begin to lull him to sleep, freeing him of his worries and doubts with his mind eager to return to the dreamlike state it had rudely been awakened from earlier in the dark comforts of the humid transport that had brought him here.

It was a sharp piercing noise, an animalistic screech Dennings had never heard before right outside his window, awakening to find warm encompassing sheets covering his frail body as he pushes them off before rising up to a seated position by the edge of the bed, rubbing his caked eyes as the door to the room opens.

"Mornin' son…look like ya never erd'ah rooster caw before! When yer ready, meet me outside! Ah got somethin' to show ya!"

But as he hops off the bed to go get washed up, the drowsy convict doesn't seem to realize how much more meatier his limbs have become overnight. Arriving here the day before looking like a gaunt skeleton, Dennings’ pale skin had gained a peachy hue with his ruffled hair sporting a healthy sheen. Invigorated layers of firm muscle now lining his biceps and forearms, but not enough to show clearly through his skin.

The sun had barely begun to crest the horizon as Dennings made his way downstairs and out the front door, finding the man kneeling near a small group of roosters, raining a generous amount of breadcrumbs over the hungry animals. The serene smile he had greeted him with when he’d been dumped here now plastered over his face, reminding him of what he’d said yesterday.

"Umm…sir?"

"Hrm? What? Ya wanna try feedin’em? ‘Ere, give it a shot!”

Not what he had intended, but it was a welcome prospect nonetheless, taking the small bowl of bird feed from the enthused man and mimicking his motions from earlier, watching as the turkeys scattered left and right, eager for more. But feeding turkeys wasn’t what he came out here for…

"I just wanted to say sorry…for last night y’know? I said some bad stuff without thinking…"

At that, the man begins to chuckle, patting Dennings on the shoulder and causing more feed to spill onto the ground much to the turkeys delight as their clucking intensifies, swiping the bowl from Dennings before he can give them any more extras.

 “Didn’tink you’d remember! Bahh! What’s done is done, fer now, lemme run ovah d’basics on why yer here! Follow me!”

“Oh! Almost forgot, the names Ryan Mae! But’chu can just call me Ryan, or if yer really feelin’ it; Pawpaw works just fine! Haha!”

Setting off down the arid path, Dennings sighs as he looks down at the still feeding turkeys before catching up with Ryan as the two make their way towards the barn. And soon enough, Dennings is treated to a whole array of tools, pens and the animals that inhabited them. Along with the musty smell of mud and manure.

“This here’s where all them critters come crawling back to after sun down! Been their home fer as long as m’familys been ‘ere! Now…ah assume those dunderhead fools at’d city never told ya what yer out here for right?”

"N-No…they never did…I was just bundled here the minute they had the city under control.”

“Don’t mind d’smell now! You’ll get used to it! As for the reason why yer here…think of it as rehab, that’s d’punishment the city folk have decided on fer you. And this ‘ere critter farm’s the spot yer gonna be workin’ in!”

Now that came as news to him. It was the first time Dennings had heard of rehabilitation practice being used to reform criminals when most of the time, even petty thieves were sent off for life sentences in jail, which might as well mean a death sentence with how often they were whisked away from their cells to underground labs for experimentation.

But that couldn’t simply be it now could it? They had to be planning something in the background… "T-That can’t really be it now right? I-I mean, not to brag or anything but I literally totalled half the city with one press of a button! And I get rehab?”

“It’s as simple as it gets son, that’s what those guards told me about when they dropped yer ass here!”

As strange as it was, it was leagues better than being shipped off to some unmarked lab to be tested on or just simply executed. And so, after a simple shrug of his shoulders, Dennings had to relent to Ryan's anti-climactic reveal, preferring not to get the eccentric man riled up again by asking any unnecessary questions.

"Well if you say so…but uhh, I've got no experience working a farm though, city boy and all that?"

"Hah! No worries son, there's always'ah first time for everything! Now c'mon! Let's go git some chow 'fore the day proper!"

After a warm breakfast made from the local produce, Ryan sets off around the farm, showing his newest (and first) protege the ropes; from where the different facilities around the farm were located to the various animals on the farm and what was expected of him to help maintain them.

It was surprising to know but apparently Ryan's farm was once of the last few remaining plots of land that remained fertile enough to grow some measure of crops and to rear animals on. With his produce going straight to the bigwig socialites back at the city as they enjoyed fine dining on authentic cuisine unlike what the rest of the populace consumed.

But any thought of sabotage was quickly snuffed out by a warning shock down his spine, whatever the guards had injected him with yesterday seemed to know what he was thinking of doing, reminding him of his circumstances as he clicks his tongue in annoyance, getting the equivalent of a slap on the wrist just from thinking about sabotage.

"Somethin' wrong back there son? If ya got trouble undoing the ropes ah can always show y'again?"

"I-It's nothing! Just slipped on a knot!"

But then again, he'd feel awful if he did somehow end up sabotaging Ryan's livelihood. Since the only reason he joined up with the crime syndicate was to get back at the government, ruining a lonely middle aged man's life who had nothing to do with the conflict back at the city wasn't it. Fidgeting in place with his slender feet thumping the floor in discomfort at the horrid idea that ran through his head.

And so the day would fly by as the pair continued making their way around the farm, with Ryan and Dennings looking like a simple father-son duo handling the farm. Although many would be forgiven for mistaking Dennings for a girl with his shoulder length hair, tucking a silken strand of chestnut brown behind his soft ears as he heaves a bucket full of chum over to the feeding pens for the pigs.

By the time the sun had looped across the sky and began to dip over the landscape, they had more or less done over a week's worth of work just for Ryan to show Dennings the basics, settling down at the dinner table as the big man skins potatoes for a stew, conversing in idle chatter as he does so.

"Don't get too relaxed now y'hear me? Bessy's probably gon' rile up some mess so we come runnin' to her again soon…"

"Ah don't doubt it but…today was fun sir, thanks fer that, showing me around the farm I mean…"

"Hahah! Don't mention it son! Yer a natural at this though so ah'm sure yer won't be needin' me around too much! Y'sure you ain't done this before?"

"No, never! All ah did before this was sit in front of a computer in some dark room!"

"Well then it's all d'more better that ya goofed yerself all the way out 'ere now ain't it? Always good to take in some fresh air every now and then!"

Laughing as the pair continue their banter over the warm satisfying meal, Dennings would enter the showers that night with a satisfied smile on his face, scrubbing the sweat and grime off his smooth sunkissed hide as he lathers his silken hair in generous amounts of shampoo.

"Always feels good to shower off ah hard days work on the field…"

Stepping out of the shower and drying off his slender body while carefully brushing at his long tender mane with the towel, careful not to pull or brush too hard as if he’d always taken care of such long silky hair all his life. Dennings lifts a clean hoodie over his body, casting an androgynous silhouette as he steps out of the bathroom, washed up, dried off and ready for bed as he turns to shout down the corridor.

"Hey dad? Bathroom's ready if ya wanna use it!"

"Hah! 'Dad'? Now where'd that come from?"

"Jus’ wanted to show how grateful ah am is all!"

"Pleasures mine! Now go get some rest a'ight? Ya did great today!"

Slipping into his bedroom while failing to notice just how casually he had addressed Ryan with his accent slowly but steadily mixing with southern slang, Dennings flops onto the bed, groaning in exhaustion as he rolls onto his back, only just realizing he hadn’t taken that good of a look around the room yet, wondering if someone else had used it in the past. Since he still had a good bit of time left on his hands with nothing to do, a little exploration wouldn’t hurt much.

Peering into empty cupboards and searching through dusty boxes, Dennings takes the chance to tidy up the room, rearranging boxes into a neat stack while wiping down the dusty surfaces with a rag.

‘For all his farmin’ know how, he certainly isn’t one to keep da house spick and span…hm? What’s this?’

Tugging open the musty doors of the wardrobe, the curious man takes a knee as he inspects the lower compartments, discovering what looked like old clothes for an infant, the faded pink coloration suggesting it had been meant for a baby girl to wear. Must’ve been for his kid before she probably grew up and left the place…the thought made Dennings a tad bit sour; wondering what child just up and abandoned their parents without so much as a visit.

But after giving the clothes a steady pat before rearranging them neatly into a corner of the wardrobe, Dennings was pretty much done with the cleanup. If he wanted to do more, he’d have to wait till the next day when he had the time and freedom to be as loud as he wanted, not wishing to disrupt Ryan’s rest as he turns off the bedside lamp, preparing to go to bed himself. A warm bubbly feeling within his chest for a job well done, strangely excited for the next day.

“Never thought i’d take this well ta farmin’ aftah just one day...maybe it won’t be so bad after all…”

It was hard to recall that just a day ago, he had been a wanted convict arrested for plunging an entire city into chaos in what he thought was going to be his last hurrah. Only to find himself far outside city limits on a pleasant farm serving time off on rehab…it was too good to be true.

Shaking off those thoughts with another day of work ahead of him, Dennings shuts his eyes as he drifts off to sleep once more. The interior of his body bubbling with changes unseen now that the host was asleep…

Over the next few days, Dennings would slowly fall into a standardized routine he had planned out for himself after the first week or so spent familiarizing himself with Ryan’s house and the farm. Waking up early before the roosters cawed to prepare their feed, making breakfast if Ryan hadn’t done so already before spending most of the day out on the fields or in the barn, caring for the various animals; from maintaining the hooves of the cows to trimming the fur off the sheep. Ryan had walked Dennings through each one without much trouble with the convict's photogenic memory aiding him very well in his job after watching Ryan do it once.

But it wasn’t just his skill in maintaining the farm and its animals that was increasing. With each passing day, Dennings body would continue to change in unique and peculiar ways no ordinary man in his growth spurt would; with his lean lanky arms continuing to grow more and more feminine, a gaunt figure gaining curves as his hips slowly but surely widen out in circumference, lining up nicely with his thighs which were beginning to grow nice and firm, lined with a lean layer of muscle that mixed well with a pudgy undertone of baby fat that gave them an enticing jiggle with each step.

Even the tan he had earned from his initial stay at the farm had become a natural cocoa skin tone, matching up with Ryan’s as the two worked the farm.

Not to mention how long his hair had grown over the past week or so, reaching down past their previous shoulder length height to almost being able to grace his modest behind, gaining a lustrous sheen that was far flung from the previous mottled black head of hair Dennings once sported. But despite all that had changed with Dennings’ physical form, his overall stature still seemed manly enough not to warrant any attention. If it weren’t for his hair, he’d still be passable for a young man…a prepubescent young man considering how soft and feminine hias visage had become, with the stubble on his shapely chin long gone, it didn’t help that his lips had become nice and soft, lending a natural pout to his expression. Drawing focus to his sleek foxy eyes within which sits a pair of attentive brown pupils staring out into the world.

All in all, it made Dennings quite an attractive individual to look at, bar a flat chest and lacking bulge positioned down between an alluringly tight navel. But that wasn’t what Ryan was looking at as he peers over his shoulder towards the supposed convict with a slight frown on his brow, watching him milk Bessy with a serene smile on his face.

"You uh…ever think about gettin’ that hair ‘er yours cut?”

“Really dad? Ah keep tellin’ ya; It’s nuthin’ ta be concerned about! Ah’ll be fine!”

Except that was the first time he’d ever brought up his hair, which made him wonder how much of the former convict even remained at this point. Testing the waters by probing Dennings on subjects that he should more or less be familiar with, only to come off mildly surprised when the man charged with hacking into the city’s framework had shot him a puzzled look at the question he should’ve been able to answer with confidence.

“‘Fraid that’s way outta mah league dad…ah’m just good at fixin’ stuff is all, the eggheads ovah at tha city prolly know more bout this stuff you’re askin’ me…”

He’d been worried sick when he signed on with this ridiculous plan, but after a week or so it was hard to tell he’d been living with a convict at all. With the nanites defense system never acting up after the first few days, indicating very little even remained of the former insubordinate citizen that had rebelled against the state.

Not to forget of course, the heavy southern accent that Dennings now fully sported without a lick of concern over the loss of his ability to say a sentence without the use of southern slang and that he now referred to Ryan as either ‘pops’ or ‘dad’ most of the time, rarely ever calling him sir anymore. Because for as far as he could remember, that was what he had always been calling Ryan. With Ryan in turn slowly dropping his use of ‘son’ altogether. Not like he seemed to mind much.

But what he could remember was beginning to grow fuzzy, blurring the lines between reality and imagination with each day going by causing more and more of his past as a lowborn city hoodlum turned hacker to become a hazy dream; a film he could barely recall the contents of as he lost himself to the life of a simple farmhand surrounded by animals that he was now very fond of. The days where he would spend wishing he had a phone in his hand to browse the web long forgotten with the addiction to said technology no longer existing in his mind, taking to tinkering with the array of old scrap kept in the back of the barn’s storage compartment. Fixing rundown equipment with the prospect of improving efficiency on the farm.

Most interesting of all however, was how his brain began to interpret his relationship with Ryan. Influenced by the nanites from an indebted prisoner to a willing farmhand until eventually, a father figure. The will to pay him back for all he had done for him despite his crooked background twisted into something more, something deeper…all while the man in question continued to watch Dennings from the background.

It wasn't as if Ryan himself was completely blind to the changes afflicting his charge, watching as he slowly changes with each passing day; behaving differently while remaining oblivious to it all. It had made him want to just reach out and ask if he even knew what was going on, but he knew better than to break a contract with the monstrous corporations back at the city.

He had to stay silent and act as if nothing was wrong, but watching the scrawny young man slowly shift and transform with each passing day into someone else entirely had disgruntled him somewhat. Ryan still remembered the first few days when he’d gained a spontaneous tan that normally took someone ages to maintain, along with a bevy of other additions like a slender well built frame and a silken head of hair that drapes itself down his back without issue.

It was hard to keep his surprise in while addressing the poor thing as if nothing was out of the ordinary as each day wore him away literally. Like a sculptor chipping away at an ordinary block of wood to turn it into something more.

And not too long after Dennings second week had begun, a small dust cloud in the distance signals the arrival of a familiar black transport as it rapidly approaches the farm. Gripping the reins leashing the animals tightly in his hands as he prepares to meet with his ‘benefactors’ to discuss the next steps to take in this rehabilitation program of theirs..

"Dad? Is everythang alright out there?"

She had heard the roar of the engines from her bedroom, growing concerned after her father hadn’t responded to her as she peers out through the window, spying that familiar black cargo transport vehicle the city would send whenever the time came to collect their harvest.

Except this time, the automated transport was accompanied by two men in midnight black armor, one of them in silent conversation with her father as she hurried outside, not caring that an oversized white shirt was all she had to cover her up, pushing open the front door and walking out into the glaring afternoon sun.

“That’s her?”

"Yeap…she's mah girl…”

It was the first time she’d heard her father speak in such a downcast tone devoid of the usual energy he instilled in each word, shooting her a look that seemed to say ‘everything’s alright’ before turning his attention back to the guard as she watches the cattle being led into the back of the transport by the other guard, a reflective purple visor hiding a gaze that was clearly directed at her, sending a chill down her spine while she stood her ground.

‘Typical city jerkwad…all big with that gun’f his to swing around…’

But something seemed to catch her eye as she turns her attention back toward the conversation, spying the holographic tablet held in the guards hands as he holds it up to show to her father, with the image of a scrawny young man probably a little younger than she was wearing a black jacket displayed beside a whole array of words too small for her to get a read on. Something seemed awfully familiar with the image though, instilling a sense of familiarity within her before the guard tucks the tablet away after Ryan signs something on the bottom of the screen. A pleasant tingle in her brain spreads through her body the instant her father’s hand lifts away from the screen.

By the time the transport had loaded up its haul of fresh meat and the guards had taken their leave, Delilah was left frozen in stunned silence, her lips hanging ajar as if she was deep in thought, ignoring her fathers calls until he strides up close with a look of concern on his face, patting her lightly on the shoulder and causing her to jolt awake in surprise.

"You alright there sweety? Been standin’ still with a look like you’d seen a ghost!”

"H-Huh?! Yeah…everythang’s alright…just…a bit cooked back there with d’way that guard was lookin’ us up…how bout’chu though? Sounded like you were runnin’ on fumes back there… "

Upon her mentioning that though, Ryan’s face scrunches up into an uncomfortable grimace, as if he wasn’t willing to talk about whatever was going on in his mind. And with the way he held a hand up while patting her comfortingly on the shoulder meant he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, trudging through the dried grass and back into the home. Leaving Delilah to ponder the issue alone as she watches her father go back upstairs presumably to get some rest.

"Must be cuz he had to give up Bessy earlier…poor thang’s been with us fer so long too…”

Walking back into the house, the young woman takes a seat on the couch with a frustrated frown on her face, wondering what to do before spotting the dusty old chassis of a jukebox lying tucked away in the corner of the living room. Brown eyes widening in recognition as dormant memories within her awaken at the sight of her treasured family heirloom, rising off her seat to inspect the derelict machine. It wasn’t too badly damaged, with a little bit of elbow grease and patchwork, she could definitely get the jukebox up and running again by nightfall.

"Strange…Why haven’t ah noticed this thang lyin’ out here all banged up…ah ferget it, I can get this all patched up in no time! Pawpaw’s gonna be so chipper when he hears this! ”

Putting her plan to cheer her father up in motion, the peppy girl gets to work cleaning up the jukebox before dismantling the thing down to its base components, working in silence all the way into the evening, not wanting to disturb the man who she assumed was sleeping soundly upstairs, unaware of the turmoil he was wallowing in, rolling around in bed uncomfortably.

He felt terrible, signing the final contract that certified the permanent and definite end to the rehabilitation programme. It meant there was no going back for the man once known as Dennings that day, even though he was a convict, the man knew the term was more or less a derogatory term used to label anyone who didn't fit in at the city.

But it wasn’t like he was free from blame as well. Granted the opportunity to see his stillborn daughter lead a life she never could, Ryan had immediately jumped on the rehab programme the city AI had contacted a personally scouted list of potential volunteers as an alternative to experimentation or simple execution. Serving as a test bed, all Ryan would have to do was to monitor Dennings over the next few days and weeks as the nanites injected into him did their work. Rewriting the man’s existence down to his DNA over an agonizingly slow process.

Except as time went on, the initial excitement of finally getting his daughter back begins to clash with the moral conundrum of essentially forcing someone to play host to his fantasy; watching as Dennings begins to lose sight of himself day by day while slowly taking on the features he had imagine his little girl to look like if she got the chance to grow up, sporting a mix of her mother’s beautiful eyes and her fathers outgoing personality.

By the time he had agreed to sign the final leger that confirmed Dennings' ‘execution’ and an end to the city’s supervision over his farm, it was impossible not to feel some sense of guilt over his actions, especially with his baby girl standing there watching him do it, the flicker in her eyes mimicking the last vestiges of Dennings being snuffed out as she stood there in silence. Presumably because her brain was being hotwired.

“The nanites will flush themselves out of her system by the end of the day, been nice doing business with you Mr Mae…the City thanks you for your cooperation.”

‘Goddammit…what the hell’ve ah done…’

But just before the weathered old man can continue his tormented slumber, a sudden buzz of muffled music comes leaking in through the doors, grabbing his attention as he slowly rises from the bed, turning on the nightlight with how dark it was outside. Staring in confusion at the door with the familiar music drafting into his ears triggering a whole deluge of memories from a time he’d almost forgotten. The distinct voice of a girl singing along with the tune rousing him from his slumber…

By the time she had gotten the jukebox up and running again, the sun had already gone down, ushering in the cool evening air as Delilah hooks up the power to the newly repaired hunk of plywood and steel, watching as the neon lights on the rim blink to life, a crackling hum giving way to lively music that fills the house as she whoops in celebration.

"Atta girl! Now all that's left is ta set the stove on and get some nice stew goin’~”

Humming to the catchy tunes, Delilah sets to peeling the potatoes before fetching the bowl of lean cut pork she had set aside earlier to defrost, pouring them into a delicious broth boiling away over the oven. The lyrics of the song slowly coming to mind as she begins to sing along, dancing to the rhythm as she sways her hips left to right, cocking her head every so often as her hands idly stir away at the stew, filling the air with a pleasant aroma.

And as she brings up a tiny spoonful to her mouth, a satisfactory exclamation announces its success.

"Mmm~ S’almost as good as Pawpaws brew…just needs that-”

“-bit of spice sweety…you forgot the spice…”

"Pawpaw! Yer up! Come on, the food’s ready!”

“Woah-ho! Settle down now! What’s the big rush fer eh?”

Settling her father in on one end of the table, the peppy daughter quickly fills two bowls with the freshly cooked stew before laying them down on the table. Seating herself directly opposite her father with a bright smile as she nods at him with an eager look in her eyes.

“Now go on! Try it!”

“Alright! Alright! Settle down now….mmm…as ah thought…yer missed the spice…that there's the most important ingredient that gives it the shebang! Could tell from the smell earlier…”

“Oh? Then you could teach me sometime now can’t’chu Pawpaw? Ah’ve got the farm all under mah belt now!”

As the two engaged in familial banter over a warm bowl of stew, time would fly by until the clock strikes ten, the bowls on the table long empty with the pot now lying filled with water soaking in the basin. All while the jukebox continues on to the next track, perking up the ears of both father and daughter.

“Didn’t chu say…Ma used to love this song?”

“....right you are…play it every night she would…”

After a moment of silence, Delilah pushes off her seat, grabbing both bowls before dumping them in the basin, hurrying back over to her father as she grips his large warm hand in her own, a look of intrigue breaking the sorrow in his eyes, feeling himself pulled off the chair and up to his feet as his daughter tugs him toward the spacious living room, clearing away the couch until there was a sizeable square space in the middle of the room.

“As embarrassin’ as this is…well…would ya let me have this dance, Pawpaw?”

Ryan stays silent for a moment before laughing out loud, his broad shoulders rocking up and down as he ruffles the soft head of his dear daughter. Indeed he used to be a good dancer but after years of isolation and tending to the farm, he wasn’t quite the man he used to be.

But seeing his daughter back in the flesh before him and hearing her singing a song from her mother’s treasured jukebox earlier as he peered in from the sidelines earlier had him wishing she was here with them now. He just couldn’t afford to say no to her. Whether she was Dennings, Delilah or whoever else, that didn't matter much to him anymore. All he could be sure of was that it was his responsibility now to ensure she lived a happy life, a life neither Dennings nor the Delilah of old had the chance to lead.

“Hahah! Well now! If…If you insist…then…” Taking his daughter’s outstretched arms in his own, the formerly depressed man takes to the dance floor after decades of solemn isolation, teaching Delilah Mae a variety of dance moves as the pair spun and weaved their way around the homely living room of a small isolated house far away from modern civilization. A happy family of two dancing the night away…

A couple of years would pass since the City’s last upheaval at the hands of a now defunct criminal syndicate that had been a pain in the side of the authorities. Running bank heists, sabotage gigs against production plants and even cyberspace attacks against their precious databanks. Finally culminating in the group unleashing a devastating viral code into the deep roots of the city’s commanding AI, messing with its functions and basically plunging half the city into chaos as basic amenities ceased to function and unmanned transports crashed and burned. It was a total mess that taught them much about how vulnerable their firewalls were. Along with a new law implemented for offenses committed within the city…

But the true mastermind behind it all would go missing soon after being taken into custody from the groups headquarters, the only one who didn’t resist arrest through suicide, not like he really could considering how busy he was setting the attack into motion when the government troopers had finally found where he’d been hiding in.

Of course, after so many years had passed with no further news on the matter, other crime groups and vigilantes would commemorate him as their idol; a paragon of the free people hoping to one day earn their freedom from the authoritarian states. Unaware that the martyr they worshipped was just a few kilometers outside the city walls…

Delilah Mae saw no greater joy than tending to her loveable critters at the farm her family had owned for generations, rearing the animals with gusto and ensuring everything was running like a well-oiled machine. Fixing up rotting or worn out infrastructure while constantly adding on to the farm; like the windmill she had installed after coming up with a ramshackle design cobbled together from her father’s scrap in the barn.

The Mae family used to tend the farm together, but in recent years the aging Ryan had to leave it up to his daughter to manage the place on her lonesome, not like she minded much with her time better spent ensuring it all didn’t come apart at the seams with their deliveries to the City they had to keep up with. But it wasn’t just the deliveries that kept her out on the field most of the time.

Just over towards the North further away from the city, there lived another small family of farmers who occasionally came by ever since Delilah had spotted them outside the farm one day, getting to know the lovely family as they announced their arrival and an invitation to trade.

That was when she had met Max, their strapping son that couldn’t have been any older than she was, it started off with intrigue from both sides, but eventually, the young flower of romance would bloom between the two. With Delilah beginning to take on an aggressive stance with pushing the relationship further, dressing provocatively against her fathers wishes everytime Max would come by to trade, loving how the man could barely look her in the eyes without staring down at her impressive cleavage, which had grown a heck of a lot over the last few years, not to mention how voluptuous her figure had become. Tying her voluminous head of hair into twin tailed braids that hung down her slender shoulders.

She loved her father dearly, but with how thick-skulled Max was, she had no hope of getting through to him without taking ‘drastic’ measures. He was a charming man, but it was incredibly painful trying to get her intentions through to him…

But today was the last straw, Delilah had had enough of his constant evasions and quick escapes. Today, she was going to make sure they both crossed that line she had been meaning to get him to cross himself. Leaning back against the fence with her foxy eyes lingering on the hillside he always crested over on the way to her farm., chewing on a stalk of hay in mild sexual frustration.

“Keep a girl waitin’ any longer an’ah might just go ovah myself…”

Unbeknownst to Delilah however, her father had been keeping a diligent eye on her from his windowsill, lowering his binoculars onto the nightstand with a heavy sigh as he flops back over onto the bed at his daughter's brazen behaviour.

“Takes after her mother ah swear…always was such a fiery gal to tamper with…”

THE END