Ten years ago the bloody war with the Gandole started. Aidon’s armies once the most feared in all the world was no match for the Gandole’s Myrmidons. When they pushed into our cities, they slaughtered everyone. They didn’t care if we were just children, they didn’t care if we were unarmed and of no threat. When the Gandole took our cities, their troops reaped the souls of everyone they saw, until all that remained in the where corpses and blood-stained sidewalks. The Brotherhood was the only hope for survival after Aidon’s Army fell to the Gandole’s might. The Brotherhood acted as the army we so desperately needed however they were outmanned, outgunned and their numbers dwindled.

I would have been one of the casualties, some nameless statistic if not for one man—my foster father Timpuji. He saved me and three others as we escaped the war zone and made it to Aidon’s capitol. We stayed there for years before the war made it to the capitol but when it did the family I grew to know so well was suddenly taken from me.

I let my hatred of the Gandole destroy me. It consumed me and I was lost in the dark to the will of Fayták. He drew me closer to Inferno’s depths and, only through the final words of Timpuji and my own death was I saved. Univer, the God of Gods, must not have given up on me yet for His Great Oracles have already foretold these events. Maybe I am to become His right hand and take vengeance for His lost but not forsaken people.

It has been a painful experience but one necessary for me to find out that not all the Gandole are monsters. After all, the only reason I’m still alive is because of Naomi and her grandfather, two Gandole scientists who have both seen the horrors the Gandole are inflicting on this world. They are willing to go so far for people that are not their own and are even willing to sacrifice themselves for me. The two have turned the world I once knew upside down. Shockingly they’re following the words of an Aidoshian Great Oracle who predicted these events eighteen years ago. The same year I was born.

The Vortex the supposed strongest Black Technology Seed, has already been implanted inside of me, and training to unleash its power is just beginning. I will find out who I am and what has happened to Kai and Fantasia, my only family. I hope they are still out there.

Naomi and I are on the outskirts of the Gandole city. It is many acres of farmland we have to walk before we can enter. We walk along a dirt road which cuts through the pastures to the city.

“I want to take this time to welcome you to the country of Albany. This is the capitol city Soria,” Naomi says enthusiastically.

“You really seem to like this place,” I say.

“I have not been here since I was a little girl. Places like this remind me of my hometown, Hailet,” she says happily.

“You grew up in a large town like this?”

“It was not this big, more of an old-fashioned farming town,” she responds.

“I have never seen a farm before so what’s so different?”

Her face sours. “This is a town whose farming system was stolen from the Aidoshians during the major points in the war. The original designer was killed on TV as a form of public humiliation. People don’t think of Aidoshians as humans anymore, and anyone who defends them is no better.”

“Is there something you want to get off your chest?” I ask.

“No,” she replies shaking her head. “Forget it.”

“So what is so different? This farm looks normal,” I say to push along the conversation.

“Nothing on the surface but underground there are five layers of farms, and artificial sunlight generators. It is a very extensive structure.”

“Sounds like an impressive feet,” I say.

“It is but, that is not the only reason I like it. This city has the largest Information Center in the world. Before Albany joined the Gandole as a province, it was a major hub of knowledge that treasured different cultures and their beliefs. It was a civilization completely devoted to understanding. Over the past ten years, Gandole have brainwashed these people to deem any other culture besides the Gandole’s as inferior.”

We continue to walk along the dirt path. Naomi points at several native fruits as we come to an orchard. Like the kurui, a small and sweet fleshy fruit that has the natural intoxicating effects of alcohol when ripe. As we get further down, we see an output post for harvested produce. It moves like an escalator bringing up huge bundles one after the other from the underground farms. A truck then loads the produce using robotic arms. A middle-aged man stands and checks off the bundles as the truck loads them. As we pass him, he glances at us.

“How’s it go’n officers?” he asks in a kind gesture.

“Can’t complain. That’s a good harvest you’re pulling in,” Naomi responds.

“Alright now. How ‘bout ya’ll take these for yo’ walk,” He says as he tossed two kuruis to us.

“Thank you. Have a good day,” Naomi says.

She hands me one of the fruit.

“This is alcoholic, I can’t eat it. I’m underage.”

“You’re eighteen. That is the drinking age in Gandalia,” she says as she takes the fruit back. “If you don’t want it now, I’ll hold on to it for you.” She puts it in her bag. “Oh, that reminds me. You need a new name. Nothing’s wrong with Elvion but it sounds Aidoshian.”

“I can’t change my name I am proud to be an Aidoshian.”

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“It’s only to make you less suspicious. It’s not permanent,” she says as she pulls out a badge and wallet from her bag. “How about Edward? It starts with an “E” at least.”

“Whatever. What about the last name?” I ask.

“Jackson. It’s a pretty common last name and you can be my husband,” she responds with a humorous tone.

I am speechless and my face becomes hotter. When she turns to look at me, I look away. I know she is playing around but I still cannot settle down.

“You are so cute,” she says as she steps in front of me. “Like a teddy bear.”

“Shut up. That just took me by surprise,” I say.

“Sure,” she says in disbelief. “Here, is your wallet and badge. Remember if anyone official asks, you are military police investigating the continuous attacks on personnel in the region. You are following a lead from Gandalia that might mean a domestic terrorist organization is working along with the Zerrii Tribe. Otherwise just follow me.”

“How am I going to remember that?” I ask shaking my head.

“The Seed won’t let you forget,” she says assuredly. “Once we get to the Information Center, I can hack the computer to make you a fake Gandole I.D. and social security number. You will have to wear this as well,” she says as she puts a silver bracelet on my right arm. “It is a mobile holographic computer or MHC. Just hold it out in front of you and wave your hand over it to turn it on.”

“What about you?” I ask.

“I have a fake I.D. already,” she replies as she pulls it out of her bag. “My granddad made it by hacking the military personnel archives in preparation for coming here when he stole the Vortex.”

“You guys had to steal it?” I respond as I take her I.D.

I look at her picture. It is the first time I see her with her hair down. One would not know her brunette hair is actually long enough to flow down to her chest. Her green eyes are brightly shining as perfectly carved emeralds. I switch my attention to her alias “Janice Jackson,” it reads. I then move to her weight but she must have been watching my eyes because as soon as I look over, she snatches the card from my hand.

“Yes,” she says as she stuffs the I.D. into her bag. “He replaced it with a replica. It bought us almost a week before they ransacked the house and we escaped.”

We finally make it to the large city. A complex different world alien to what I’m use to back in Aidon. The large city is booming with busy lives, as people move about like bees in a hive. They are unusually nice to us because we are dressed like the military. There are so many different types of people of different nationalities and ethnicities. The war-torn Aidon only had Aidoshians, one race, one color, one people. Until now I thought that was how all countries were. Separation and isolation, a war-perverted thought.

Cars glide across the streets sleek in design. Masterful works of art that serve their purpose gracefully and silently for the most part. The buildings tower to the clouds, though odd in form. Each building is its own in culture; either spiraled or rounded some in unique shapes. None however are as grand or as tall as the one I can see in the distance. In the shape of a leafless tree with many branches that decorate the sky in beautiful silver.

“That is the Information Center,” Naomi says seeing it catches my eye. “The largest archive of knowledge in the world.”

“Why is it shaped like a tree,” I ask.

“Albany’s original culture had a strong foundation in their native religion the Souls of Nature. They believed everything of nature had a soul and a God. One of the greatest and purest souls was the tree and its God Inuraha. He was like your people’s Univer or my culture’s Theós. When they created this building one hundred twenty years ago, they wanted Inuraha to bless the knowledge it acquired.”

“Whoa. That is a large tribute to their God,” I say.

“I don’t think of it as a tribute to a god,” she says as we stop at a four-way intersection waiting for a signal for us to walk across the road. “This is the heart and soul of these people, a beautiful culture destroyed by the imperialistic beliefs of the Gandole.”

“The more I hang out with you, the more I believe you truly hate your own people,” I say.

She sighs. “It’s not the people; it is the monsters the people let run the country.”

∞

We are now reaching the Information Center. As we move in closer we can see some of the structures around the Information Center are its roots. Which meant the Center might actually spread throughout the entire city underground. The courtyard of the main entrance is decorated heavenly with native flowers of royal purple, beautiful crimson, and snow white. There are even fountains with the clearest water I’ve ever seen. Tourists walk through the serene setting taking pictures and in a state of “ah” while the locals continue life as usual. Elevator, escalators, and roads wrapped around the large edifice. Naomi is as amazed to see the structure up close as I am. She could not help but smile and stare up at its wonder.

We stand mouths agape as we read the inscription on the main door of the great building.

“Ilk sulo na vel’il on, jaga Ile va redehen’il,” Latianeus for, “My soul is not tainted for I have been redeemed.” This is unusual because it is not only an Aidoshian saying after one repents but it is in Latianeus not Espu, the original language of the region.

She does not ponder it for to long before pushing me inside the large door. Inside is as beautiful as the outside. Gray tiles line the floor of the first story that looks to be over half a mile in diameter. The first three stories are visible as we make our way to the information desk in the center of the floor. These levels are completely devoted to old books of many kinds, bustling with scholars young and old searching for timeless tomes. At least the ones who still preferred the old-school paper book and not the electronic ones on the higher floors.

As we push our way through the crowds of people surrounding the desk, Naomi pulls out her badge. The room grows quiet and the people in front of us move out of the way. I straighten up as much as possible so I won’t look surprised when they turn to look at me.

“I am Major Janice of the military police,” she says in an authoritative tore to one of the librarians. “And this is Corporal Edward. We are currently undergoing an investigation and we need a secure government computer.”

“Right away, ma’am,” the librarian says almost in a trembling voice. “If you would please follow me.”

I match Naomi’s cold military stare, but she definitely plays the part much better than I do. The librarian leads us to an elevator on the third floor.

“This will take you to the secure government computers,” she says as she slightly bows. “I hope your investigation goes well.”

Naomi takes out her fake I.D. and flashes it across the scanner on the door. After a few seconds the door opens to a bright light shining on the other side. Naomi and I waste no time in stepping into the elevator. It quickly shuts behind us. It has a glass wall from which to see the beautiful city. Naomi presses a few buttons and the elevator zooms upwards. I don’t pay much attention because I am transfixed by the view of the city as it gets smaller and smaller.

“You did good back there,” she says.

“You did a much better job,” I say as I turn from the window. “Were you actually in the military before?”

“No.” She smiles. “I used to take acting classes when I was little. And I’ve been around the military a lot being a Black Technology scientist and all.” The elevator slowed as we approach the floor. “We can talk about it later but for right now straighten up.”

I take a step forward so that I am standing right beside her facing the door. We are both uncertain of what we will find on the other side when it opens. If anybody recognizes Naomi, our little plan for revenge could be over before it starts. We were lucky with the locals because the last time Naomi was in this town she was a young girl. However, real Gandole officials might recognize her because of her work with Black Technology. It’s all in the hands of fate now.