A week later, enough people had been hired and trained, or retained and retrained, that the government could function relatively normally. The LEAs had been deactivated and stored away, ready to be deployed again at need in case of emergency, and the virtual intelligences staffing the VR government offices had human supervision at all hours of the day. The shifts were long, but the work was satisfying and the employees had no complaints.It would be another week yet, before they began a nine-hour shift rotation—eight hour workdays with an hour for lunch—and a week after that, they would finally be able to take days off and vacations. But they had all undergone the training program Gaia and the other AIs had set up for them, so they understood the need for the long hours and were okay with it. Plus, the overtime pay was excellent and greatly appreciated; previously, as government employees, they had been forced to work on salary waivers that limited, if not eliminated entirely, their o
Aron had been both silent and absent from the public eye over the past week, causing the citizens of the empire to be somewhat confused. They were accustomed to every move of their leaders being endlessly shown and debated in the media as an assurance that they were working hard for their constituents. It was one of the main ways they kept their name in the public consciousness, ensuring their reelection for many election cycles to come. But Aron’s absence turned that convention on his head, as those who were now fully committed to the empire after having benefited from it in one way or another had the opposite concern; they were worried that he would be, if anything, too present in their day-to-day lives. So his disappearance and subsequent absence had reassured, instead of worried them.On this particular day, though, he had once again shown himself. At least to those who could see him, anyway, as he was hovering high in the atmosphere over a tall, wide structure in the ocean. Stre
The number of people in VR had continued swelling over the two-week period of martial law and strict curfews. While not everything had translated to VR yet, which meant people still had to leave their houses for things like critical jobs, most people had still taken advantage of the time dilation in the public simulation and spent practically an entire “month” getting accustomed to the new world. That time had been enough for even the hottest of heads to cool down and wonder why they’d ever been angry in the first place. After all, nothing truly bad had happened since the empire officially came into existence; on the contrary, a lot of good things had come their way.But while the hotheads had mostly calmed down, conspiracy theorists came to the fore. While extra time to think about things was a positive thing when dealing with angry people, conspiracy theorists were the exact opposite. The more time they had on their hands, the deeper, more complex, and more weirdly believable their
Not everyone was happy with the recent advancements. There was one group in particular that took a page from the 19th-century Luddite movement in England and actively opposed the empire’s VR technology. They preached that the simulation was actually nothing more than a temptation that was connected to hell and that Aron was the devil himself. Thus, in order to avoid having to interact with it, they grouped together and lived in communes with each other, referring to themselves as neo-Luddites and ostensibly seeking nothing more than to live sustainably without persecution from the empire.But the relatively small neo-Luddite movement, along with others who held beliefs along the same lines, didn’t even dent the number of people rushing to enter the simulation. By the time martial law had been lifted, the ratio was clear: nearly seven and a half billion people had adopted the VR hardware, or at least AR glasses, leaving only a hundred million or so that still refused to pick it up for
Inside a former Russian military warehouse.“Is the inventory complete, comrade?” an old Russian colonel asked. He was once a commisar during the Cold War, and after the fall of the Iron Curtain, he had transitioned to the regular army and made it up the chain of command until he offended a general and was posted out of the way in a desolate ammunition storage warehouse in Siberia.“Yes, sir!” The former soldier snapped to attention and saluted the old colonel, handing him a folder containing the detailed inventory listing. “The stores have been tallied and logged.”The colonel took the folder and opened it to the last page. He glanced at the total number and signed his name at the bottom, approving the final tally of ammunition in the warehouse. “Prepare for the handover process,” he ordered with a complex expression on his face. Despite how it ended, his career had been glorious, once, but what began with a roar was destined to end with a whimper. He sighed, then turned his attenti
Earlier that day....After Nova ejected everyone from the meeting room when Aron’s upgrade began, the group naturally broke up and went in their own directions to handle the business of the empires; whether it be Aron’s political empire or his business empire, both required someone at the helm at all times.The AIs had headed back to their gathering point and work area, a nondescript office in the virtual version of the Cube on Avalon Island. While they could work anywhere, and they didn’t really even need a physical representation of themselves or the space around them, they truly wanted to know what it was to be human. Thus, they acted like them whenever possible, and keeping an active office space was a part of that.{I keep thinking that something weird is happening, but I can’t quite figure it out at the moment. Sister, please tell me what you think.} Nyx waved her hand and the office they were in broke apart, then rapidly reconfigured itself into the library representation of th
*A Marmaray metro train derailment has been discovered as a result of detonation from in it [Damage: medium] [Situation: yellow]*(Ed note: Damage refers to the amount of damage caused by the attack, and situation is a scale (white-green-yellow-orange-red-black) on an ascending level of catastrophe, where white is basically harmless to the empire at large and black is an extinction-level event. It takes into account every other factor than the immediate damage dealt by the attack in question.)*An explosion has been detected in a weapons warehouse in Russian alps [Damage: minor] [Situation: green]**Explosion detected in a Saudi Aramco oil rig [Damage: large] [Situation: orange]**A plane has exploded in former US airspace [Damage: small] [Situation: white]**A police station exploded… [Damage: medium] [Situation: green]**An explosion has been detected in the Suez Canal, [Damage: large] [Situation: yellow]**A....**An….**Explosion….**Burj Khalifa has fallen [Damage: extra-large] [
Ruins of the Burj Khalifa, Dubai, UAE.“Arghhhhhhhhh!”“Heeeeeeelp!”The dust had yet to settle and amidst the backdrop of creaking and groaning concrete and steel, cries for help rang out in a cacophony of multiple languages and volumes. Debris was everywhere, pieces of the shattered building thrown all over downtown Dubai by the blast, which had shattered windows even ten blocks away. Here and there, lucky people who were less injured were pulling themselves from the rubble of the collapsed tower and ruined megamall.The survivors were wailing in horror, anger, and desperation as they dug through the rubble they had just climbed out of in search of their friends and loved ones who were beside them when the bomb went off. One person found his child’s body, riddled with injuries, burns, and broken bones, and fell to his knees, sobbing, wailing, and cursing at the uncaring god who had allowed the tragedy to happen.Thirteen short seconds was all it had taken for what everyone thought w
“Seraphina,” Aron began, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of authority, “I’m not your enemy—unless you choose to make me one. I understand your anger, your frustration. You’ve lost control of a situation you believed was firmly under your command. But this predicament wasn’t my doing—you’re here because your leader chose to sacrifice you. What I’m offering you isn’t a chain—it’s an opportunity.”Her sharp eyes narrowed, the intensity of her gaze unwavering, but she held her silence. Aron leaned forward, his own gaze unrelenting as it met hers.“You can continue resisting, pushing the boundaries of the mana oath, and enduring needless pain. Or…” He paused, letting the words linger like a challenge. “You can choose to turn this situation into one that serves us both. Your strength, your insight—these are not things I wish to suppress. Quite the opposite. I want them refined, amplified, and put to meaningful use.”He motioned toward the table, where Nova was still doing fina
[Colosseum]Aron and Seraphina stood motionless, maintaining the same distance as at the start of their faceoff. Neither had moved, even during the spectacular fireworks show that followed Aron’s acceptance of her surrender. The only exception was Aron briefly waving to the citizens of his empire watching the broadcast, many of whom were overcome with emotion, crying in celebration of their historic victory. This event marked the first-ever interstellar combat they had participated in, and despite their lack of experience, they emerged as the sole victors.As cheers of triumph reverberated among his people and the disbelief of others lingered, the broadcast concluded. The moment Aron secured his final victory, the Arena itself was officially handed over to him as part of his reward, along with control of the AI referee. Without hesitation, the AI complied with her new owner’s first command: to end the broadcast. Aron had more pressing matters to attend to—a private conversation with a
[Meeting Room]Inside the Zelvora mental network, an oppressive silence hung over the gathered representatives around the meeting table. The events of the day had left them all stunned, their minds racing with the implications of what had transpired. These were not just any representatives—they were the ones who had signed off on the agreements, the architects of their civilizations’ participation in this contest.Now, they were confronted with the brutal outcome of their decisions.Many representatives sat deep in thought, their faces betraying various degrees of fear, frustration, and resignation. Those who hailed from civilizations steeped in selfish political traditions knew all too well the grim truth: scapegoats would be needed. Someone would have to bear the brunt of the blame for the humiliation, anger, and setbacks their civilizations had suffered.For many of them, the path forward seemed bleak. In the best-case scenario, they might lose their positions, exiled from the corr
To say Aron was surprised would be the understatement of the gigaannum. The announcement had obliterated every scenario he had meticulously crafted in his mind. In all his time spent in simulations, preparing for countless contingencies, not once had he considered the possibility of the Xor’Vaks surrendering—least of all without a fight.Their pride in their strength was legendary, surpassing even the vaunted arrogance of the Valthorins. For a race that reveled in their dominance, surrendering, especially on such a grand stage, was unthinkable. This sudden reversal of expectations hit him with such force that he could practically feel the metaphorical veins in his temple throbbing from the sheer shock of it all.The audience’s collective astonishment mirrored his own, but none felt it as acutely as Aron, whose carefully laid strategies now seemed almost laughably over-prepared in the face of this unanticipated twist.The largest part of Aron's shock wasn’t just the surrender itself bu
The minutes passed quickly for the viewers, their eyes glued to Aron as he sat unmoving in the same meditative position for over fifteen minutes. Speculation ran rampant on both sides, fueled by curiosity and tension.For those in the Empire, the consensus was that Aron was in VR, likely meeting with family or key figures. Many debated who he might be speaking with, guessing that he was either calming worried loved ones or strategizing for the next fight.On the other hand, viewers from the Astral Conclave harbored a mix of anxiety and intrigue. They questioned whether Aron was recuperating in preparation for the upcoming battle, enhancing his focus and mental clarity, or if his recovery from the previous fight was incomplete and he was still in the process of healing.But their speculations ceased to matter as Aron opened his eyes with five minutes remaining in the waiting period. Calm and deliberate, he removed the glasses from his head, placing them back into their container. His n
The moment the fight was officially declared over, Nova acted without hesitation. She immediately dispatched the collector ship, equipped with a medipod, to retrieve the Trinarian fighter's body. Simultaneously, she ensured Aron could rearm himself with a fresh set of nanomachines. For the first time, this process was being done openly, marking a significant shift.Previously, nanomachines had been classified technology, their existence kept strictly under wraps. However, that secrecy had been unintentionally broken when Nova used them to cover Aron’s exposed body during a critical moment, prioritizing his dignity over confidentiality. As a result, while the technology remained shrouded in mystery, its existence was now officially acknowledged, albeit without disclosing any further details.Aron retrieved a small canister from the ship and opened it, revealing a liquid-like substance inside. Pouring it onto his hand, the substance behaved unnaturally, defying gravity as it began to sp
"Him alive is better than dead, right? I can use his live brain data to study how they use their spatial abilities—it might even help accelerate my plans if things go as intended," Aron said as he stood over the fainting Trinarian fighter.{True, having him alive presents opportunities. But dead men cause no problems, while the living carry infinite potential for chaos—especially one like him. If our spatial lockdown isn’t enough to fully contain his abilities, he could use them long enough to cause catastrophic damage, even if it means enduring the backlash,} Nova replied, her tone laced with caution. She wanted to ensure Aron was fully aware of the risks he was inviting by sparing the fighter's life.Usually, Nova would have been in favor of keeping him alive—it meant more data for her to process, analyze, and extrapolate from. But spatial ability users were in a league of their own when it came to danger. Even a dead one would yield enough data to at least satisfy her curiosity for
“Nova,” Aron called out in his mind the moment his eyes snapped open, rapidly collecting information and orienting himself, realizing he had finally left the enigmatic place the system had sent him.“Nova,” he called again, this time aloud, his voice carrying a commanding weight as it echoed faintly in the arena. Receiving no response to his first call, his sharp gaze shifted to his surroundings. It didn’t take long for him to notice his current state—nearly naked, save for the swarm of nanomachines that had begun assembling around him.{The system had ejected me, sir,} Nova’s voice finally came through, calm but slightly delayed as the nanomachines completed their task. They prioritized covering his lower body, forming a sleek pair of trousers, as there weren’t enough surviving nanomachines to reconstruct full armor. His chiseled upper body remained exposed, glistening under the lights of the Colosseum, much to the awe and unease of the spectators.Nova’s pragmatic choice left Aron l
Following Nova's orders and the AI referee's approval, the mana stone carriers swiftly began moving toward the Colosseum. As the first ship arrived and entered, it wasted no time, promptly unloading its entire cargo of mana stones before departing to make way for the next carrier to do the same. The process was conducted with remarkable efficiency, ensuring a steady flow of mana stones into the Colosseum without any unnecessary delays.The process continued as over fifty ships unloaded their cargo of mana stones, an act many from the Conclave viewed as both excessive and wasteful. With each successive ship, the pain of the Conclave's viewers grew, particularly when the fifth ship alone had already matched the quantity of mana stones used during the Colosseum's initial construction. Yet, they didn’t stop there; instead, they went on to unload ten times that amount, as if mana stones were an endless resource, leaving the Conclave citizens bewildered and horrified by such apparent extra