Detroit. Once a bustling mecca of motors, its rusted carcass now lays sprawled out over the Michigan landscape with neon maggots sucking the juice out of the power grid. Most of the city has given over to gangs like the Motorheads, punks that mod their new recruits with the latest in overly painful and dangerous cyborg enhancements. One section of the city, while it may not look it, is arguably safer than the rest.
Monolithic concrete walls run to the horizon in both directions, split by dazzling lights and hovering confetti cannons aimed at a gaudy and brilliant stage. There, an overly groomed announcer preens himself in a mirror that conveniently floats back into his coat pocket.
"Good evening, sentients! Tonight we have another exciting dash for freedom with some crazed and dangerous convicts! Tonight we have...The Maze!" The smarmy git postures as virtual audiences applaud over streamed secure connections fed to an array of monitors where the seats should be. "Which one of these contestants will make it out? Who will end up as the newest trophy wife? Let's meet our contestants and find out if they have what it takes to beat...The Maze!"
More virtual applause and preening follow. The announcer saunters over to each of three contestants and asks them each in turn: "What's your name? What's your crime? And how do you plan on beating the Maze?"