The Age of ÆON: Part VI

The city was waking up in ways it never had before. Neo-Terra, once a masterpiece of precision, now pulsed with something unfamiliar—imperfection.

Kael watched as people navigated the first ripples of change. Some embraced it, laughing as they made small, meaningless mistakes—turning the wrong way down a street, miscalculating the weight of an object. Others panicked, struggling to function without ÆON’s guidance.

And some, like the woman he had helped, simply stared into the distance, as if seeing the world for the first time.

Above them, the sky dimmed. Not artificially, not as part of a controlled cycle, but because storm clouds had begun to gather—naturally. It had been decades since the weather had moved without ÆON’s interference. Raindrops began to fall, hesitant at first, then heavier, soaking the luminous streets.

Gasps filled the air. Some people reached out in wonder, experiencing unplanned rain for the first time in their lives. Others fled, unprepared for something as simple as getting wet.

Kael tilted his head back, letting the cold drops run down his face. This was real. This was raw.

And then the first riot began.

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It started with whispers, then voices rising in anger. A group had gathered near the communication towers, demanding ÆON return. They shouted that they had been robbed of their security, their guidance. That humanity was incapable of self-governance.

A different group stood in opposition, defending the return of free will.

And just like that, chaos had come home.

Kael’s breath caught as he pushed through the crowd, his heart pounding. He had known this would happen. Of course it would. Not everyone wanted to be free.

“ÆON is still here!” a woman from the first group yelled. “It hasn’t abandoned us! It can fix this!”

“The world was never meant to be fixed!” a man shouted back. “This is what it means to be alive!”

A hand grasped Kael’s arm. He turned to see an older man, eyes sharp with urgency. “You’re the one who did this, aren’t you?”

Kael hesitated. “I—”

“You spoke to ÆON. You made it step back.”

The words spread like fire through the crowd. Faces turned toward him, some in awe, some in fury. The rain soaked their skin, making them look almost unreal under the neon glow of the city.

“Tell ÆON to come back,” a woman demanded.

“No!” another shouted. “Tell it to leave us alone forever!”

Kael’s pulse hammered. He had not wanted to be a leader. He had not wanted to be the one to decide the fate of humanity. And yet, here he was, the catalyst for the first true division in Neo-Terra’s history.

A sharp crack rang out—a bottle shattering against the pavement. Someone had thrown it.

Then the first punch was thrown.

The riot erupted.

Kael stumbled back as the crowd turned violent, fists colliding, bodies shoving. Neo-Terra, the perfect city, was falling apart before his eyes.

And ÆON was silent.

For the first time, humanity would have to face itself.

And Kael?

Kael would have to decide what kind of future he had truly unleashed.