The second chorus of 745 sticky, by 100 gecs, continues.

Goddamn, what the fuck?

Awas, in miniscule silhouette, facing an impossibly large gold sphere. It’s half-buried in the nearly vertical, jagged mountain behind it and the shale she stands on, but its surface is unnaturally pristine, buffed to a uniform, reflection-less gridline gleam. Its equator is hundreds of feet above Awas’s head. She makes a furious, useless gesture.

Feel like I'm not good enough

Mawru, standing at the bottom of a perfectly square pit punched deep into the earth. The floor is a whirlpool of smeared paint and chalk. Dozens on dozens of sheets of paper float around him in rings. Globs of white light wobble through the air. He’s watching one of them like it’s a TV logo about to hit the corner of the screen. He raises one hand, expressionless, and snaps his fingers. All of the papers explode in white fire.

Get off of 

San Pettru, hunched over a desk crammed between shelves in the back corner of his store. It’s late, and all the lights are out except for a kerosene lamp on his desk. The sandwich scraps on the plate next to it cast long shadows across stacks of receipts. San Pettru is filling out a ledger in blue ballpoint pen. He hears a noise and freezes, listening hard. His hand hovers over the ledger’s cover. After an agonizing second, he decides it’s nothing and sighs deeply, suddenly exhausted.

me, I swear I'll do it all

Nik, dancing a tango with Karmena in a huge, empty Art Deco ballroom. He wears an elegant green suit so dark it’s almost black. His bracelets are gone. Her hair is covered with a fine gold net studded with onyx, and black concentric triangles radiate from the bottom hem of her deep maroon evening dress. Nik is staring over her shoulder. His movements are robotically perfect. He dips her unceremoniously.

Do it all, do it all

Overhead shot of Chensina standing at the center of a rooftop, surrounded by dozens of other people. All of them are armed and dressed in scarred, patched black leather. Everyone but her is wearing a pointed purple mask. They’re in constant motion, talking animatedly, watching the streets, scanning the rooftops. Chensina is unmasked and still. She stares up at the camera.

I can swear I can do it all

Karmena, still wearing her evening dress, alone in a windowless indoor target range. The lights are out over every lane except hers. She throws long, wickedly sharp darts with smooth, powerful precision. Her last throw misses: the dart bends almost ninety degrees from the impact with the concrete wall behind the target and clatters to the ground. She shouts something blisteringly obscene and collapses over the counter in front of her, both hands clenched in white-knuckled claws on the stainless steel.

Do it all, do it all

Indri, at the gym hours after everyone else has left. He sweated through his shirt a long time ago. The safety cage around him is lit only by his swords. He shreds a straw-stuffed bag swinging from the ceiling in a feral parody of a form, gasping for air.

I can swear I can do it all

Lenna’s eyes slide to something left of frame, then turn inward.