Daniel Bronte, a victim of technology (TG/ Fem)

Rise and shine, loyal listeners! *Yawn sound effect* We just entered the seventh hour of this lovely Saturday morning! *Bell toll* It's a comfy 67F and sunny, perfect weather for a fun, unplugged weekend. *Sounds of summer* Here's an oldie to jam to during your morning routine: Bad Guy by Billie Eilish, here on JMTG 106.3, the only terrestrial radio station left that's still worth listening to *Record scratch* at least we think so.

The alarm of his radio woke Daniel from pleasant slumber. He rolled onto his back, wiping some drool from his cheek and propping onto his elbows. The curtains of his floor to ceiling window wall rolled open with a low, mechanical whir, and he basked in the forecasted warmth. On a normal weekend, this would prompt him to snooze his alarm and enjoy the sunbeam toasting his comfy sheets, but he had a house call to make. He swung his stocky legs over the side of his bed before rising slowly to his feet. He stood before the window, rubbing sleep from his eyes while looking over his city. From this level of the building, he could witness how technological advancements had catapulted society forward in the last hundred years. The metal and stone of structures from the early 21st century remained, acting as bases for the lightweight alloys that out performed them in weight and durability. Like a helpless organism being assimilated by a homogenous blob, the crumbling infrastructure of old would be replaced and upgraded, a Ship of Theseus with a population of 5.2 million. Daniel preferred the older architecture, its imperfect realness revealed the humanity behind it. Today's safe style was too artificial, too ideal.

Fully adjusted to the light of day, Daniel padded over to a full length mirror to appraise his own figure. Much like the modern architecture, cosmetic surgery had also improved greatly, allowing anyone to customize their physical appearance down to the tiniest detail, for the right price. Daniel was lucky enough to save his money, preferring his natural look while having a figure some had to pay for. He stood in just his boxers, showing off a body built by his own labor, not a plastic surgeon's. His toned body was faintly dusted with hair, a light red that went unnoticed in casual interaction. Similarly, his hard jaw had barely stubbled overnight, and his hair was trimmed and neat, All kept up by hand, he proudly noted with a flex of his biceps. Satisfied, he turned towards a blank wall and approached, not slowing as it automatically slid away to reveal a closet. As he entered, hangers full of clothes raced down a conveyor line to meet him. Daniel had afforded himself some luxuries of modern convenience, like the basic features of the automatic house he received as a job perk. He admitted that some automation sped up his daily routine, like dressing and food prep, and the added time left him free to his own devices. He picked out a light t shirt and shorts, slipping them on easily before returning to his room. As his closet wall slid shut, another panel revealed the hallway and the rest of the apartment.

In his kitchen, Daniel's favorite breakfast of waffles, sausage, and poached eggs was finishing its preparation, getting plated while he poured himself a cup of coffee. A neutral tone pinged throughout the apartment, signifying the house's AI assistant was about to speak. "Good morning, User. Enjoy your breakfast." A monotone, vaguely male voice greeted him. The average autohouse would have access to its owner's name, date of birth, blood type, even exact location if allowed access to a neural uplink, but Daniel was smart enough to know that the more ways you were connected to the internet, the more ways people could get connected to you. No amount of reassurance from satisfied users and pushy distributors would outweigh his common sense and practical knowledge on the matter. He used it the bare minimum that society allowed. He chewed his food, lost in thought about his assignment downtown in one of the metallic spires piercing the stratosphere. The richest clients usually got his services, as he was the foremost in his field, but Daniel never complained; he loved his job and his salary. While he sliced off bite-sized portions to eat, he checked the local news on his phone.

"Your transport will be arriving shortly." The AI warned as Daniel shoveled the last forkful of breakfast into his mouth. Another positive of automation was traffic flow: All vehicles communicated in real time, never needing to worry about a missed turn signal or a ran stop sign, so commutes were quick and efficient. For Daniel, it meant he always knew when he would need to leave for a job and when he'd get there down to the second. He gathered his used dishware and deposited them in the sink for the house to clean. At the door, Daniel removed the baggy work jumpsuit from a hook and suited up for his assignment. He patted its breast pocket, confirming his omni-tool was present. The handyman's toolbox had been bared down and integrated into one convenient device. He laced up his size 13 work boot and left to meet his ride.