Every morning starts with a ritual. Animals awaken by dawn to find water and food. People used to wake, shower, wash, and eat before they departed for whatever career or occupation allowed them to keep their ritual.
Even in abandoned, desolate, Kokkua. Everyone still has their rituals. One of the few ties to their previous lives, perhaps. The quiet alarms (for loud noises were dangerous in this new world), the meager meal (for food was often scarce in this new world), and the morning commute (at least that never changed).
Like a skipping record, Anders found himself once again walking towards the familiar gates a little late, as usual. Over one shoulder, a large backpack, mostly empty, and carrying all of the usual save for three new additions; a trio of metallic discs hung upon the back, tightly secured so they don't clang about with every step. And in his hand was the familiar weight of his rifle - if the large, obscenely unwieldy weapon could even be called such, boasting the strength to tear through nearly any obstacle.
Already there were three of the loudest members of their little ensemble. Blade, Youta, and Sera. He gave a nod to the first two, and he addressed the latter, "Sera, Sera, Sera. I heard the most horrific thing walking down the hall." He said, taking a falsely exasperated seat. "I think - correct me if I'm wrong - I caught glimpse of some terrible, fiery demon terrorizing a poor little girl - Yuka, right? Who do you think could have done such a thing?" His words ended with a lilting, teasing note, as he jammed a thick cable into the bottom of his rifle, causing an electric cackle somewhere within his pack.