One could swear the cities of Zoo Corp went on forever.

The universe, once so vibrant and varied in its designs had - at this point - nearly been taken over by Zoo Corp. It was strange how quickly it appeared and grew at exponential rates.

There was no use taking the trains to other cities or even ships to other planets. It all looked the same.

Even the Notail Union, who just ten years ago scoffed at the idea that Zoo Corp would affect them, now found themselves in a crisis. Why live within the Union when Zoo Corp offered a meal, a roof, and work for much simpler rates? Sure, they required "art" for payment, but, what was art?

It was anything.

Within the maze of the endless cities, art had degraded. Meaning, love, all of it ripped away. It was just a job after all.

Frankly, no one understood why the machine even wanted art, so why put in the effort?

Large cekekis - still living - erupted into wires and oil overnight. Their towering size and shifting husks caused panic within the communities where they appeared. Residents posted online about the horrors.

The first few times the uproar was universal.

Then national.

Now, when a new cekeki tower appears, the people walk around it with not a single care.

They all agree, whatever is happening appears to be horrible, truly horrible.

But what could they do about it?

Surely someone else, someone at the top, would get to it sooner or later. If Zoo Corp wasn't panicking, then why should they?

Plus, they got so tired of panicking, of caring, every time it happened.

Now whenever a cekeki came into work, face melting apart, they were greeted with a simple-

And when one begged for anyone to know a single thing, a way to stop the horrors, it was always-

Complaints came in about the quality of cekekis as even the ones used for sale were.....subpar, to say the least.