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Nepleslian News Network ID-SOL Re-Integrated Into SMDIoN: A Preliminary Success!

The sharp contrast of an announcer in a sterile-looking studio perked the attention of the lazy eyes of a man steeped in pain and a pint of whiskey. The swollen mass of purpley mottled flesh around his eyes and upper cheekbones masked his features, though not enough to hide his gaze as it moved towards the screen in a corner of the bar, where his eyes rested for a spell as the sharp-looking Nepleslian woman told him the news.

"A sum of DA has been allocated by the government to be put into cybernetic enhancements for citizens of DIoN. Free of charge, these enhancements will be coupled with some regulations to limit potential abuse of the new system while still supporting every Nepleslian to upgrade their body as they see fit."

The man next to her looked from her to the camera on him, which the viewer was being sent feed from and tapped his fist gently on the table they shared.

"If you have not ever felt the unbridled existential dread of wondering why you have been confident in yourself even once in your life," he began, looking to the gaze of his co-presenter once, then back to the viewer, "then you have not met an ID-SOL. If you would like to do so, though I do not recommend it for the feint of heart or anyone that is a self-described 'empathic person'..." He said the last two words with two fingers raised and made it so his fingertips touched his palm when each word's syllables struck, then trailed off, looking with a harsh gaze to the camera.

The female presenter spoke again, "Then join the Star Military today! The revitalization effort for the ID-SOL is going as planned and many ID-SOL are fighting for the lives of every member of our Imperium!"

The man spoke again as he leaned towards the camera, "Are you?"

The news broadcast cut to commercial after the camera on the man panned out from the man to show the both of them. The woman next to the man seemed to relax idly as their segment came to its close and brought from below the desk to its top a Stryling Man Cannon, which she began to wipe down while speaking a quick sentence to the man next to her, unheard by the viewer as the man stared down the camera.

The viewer at the bar had been idly sipping the pint while watching, but a fire had lit in his eyes and the ferocity that had been brewing in him during the newscast felt like it was part of a much bigger batch that had been fermenting much too long without his awareness. He slammed the whiskey glass to his muzzle and gulped before slamming it even more brutally against the bar's counter. He rifled in his pocket a short while and slammed a DA note on the bar as he stood.

"See you next week," said the bartender as he watched the man leave.

"No, you won't!" Said the patron with an abrupt laugh, "I'm joining the Marines!"

He was already out by the time the bartender could respond.