City-21 “Kyiv”, UNSA Protectorate, Avril Dominion
Collection point G4, Gleb Evseyev, August 12, 2049
Gleb left his assigned curator absolutely astounded. Of course, he’d already suspected that the Protectorate was much deeper and more cunning than it seemed when he was undergoing his first test… but to that extent?! And after he’d learned what kind of role they were proposing to him…
Going down to the first floor and traversing the building, he stepped into the inner courtyard, already bustling with a sizeable crowd.
Before heading to his designated sector, the guy shrugged off his compact “urban” backpack, pulling a plastic sports bottle from an outer pocket.
Flipping open the cap, he took a refreshing swig of the ginger-lemon drink.
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A couple of hours earlier...
Gleb had completed the initial procedures swiftly. With some time still before his appointment with the curator, he decided to exercise one of his newly afforded basic privileges. Well, mostly, he was just curious to test the financial mechanics of the Protectorate.
According to the freshly installed wallet app, every citizen from the Green Public Efficiency Class upwards was entitled to daily credits into their personal account. But to actually use these funds, they had to be transferred within the app. In theory, everything was simple, but in practice, turned out that could only be performed at a designated terminal.
At least, locating the nearest of such “booths” was pretty easy – the map was integrated directly into the app. After discovering that three of them were already operational at point G4, Gleb headed to the closest.
He found himself before a modest cabin, decked in blue and white and standing two and a half meters tall. Inside, an orange circle marked the floor, a large holographic screen dominated the space, and two steel rods protruded from the wall, each ending in a twelve-centimeter diameter metal sphere.
A simple instruction panel detailed the operation steps:
1. Stand in the circle.
2. Wait for the “ready” signal.
3. Place hands on the spheres, palms down, directly over the illuminated outlines.
4. The device will commence operation. Remain still until completion, keeping hands in place.
5. Verify the credited amount in the “My Wallet” application.
Note: The first use may take an extended duration.
After a fifteen-minute wait with his arms raised, Gleb was richer by 129,600 sols and thirty taels of the Protectorate.
“Well, one sol equals a hundred taels. Whether that’s a lot or a little, they haven’t bothered to inform me. Guess I’ll figure it out on my own.”
With a bit of time still left, Gleb decided to visit the site marked as “Express Store” on the map to gauge the worth of his newfound wealth.
Inside the designated location, Gleb was greeted by... more booths. Five of them, painted a cheerful green and lined up against a solid wall that partitioned off the entire back of the space, leaving only a small area at the entrance.
“I’m getting an unhealthy feeling that the Protectorate is obsessed with booths... Okay, let’s see what awaits me.”
Inside was yet another holographic screen and a one-square-meter plastic plate beneath it – likely covering a delivery dispenser. A small hint was placed near the screen, but it wasn’t needed, as it activated the moment Gleb entered and closed the door behind him.
He was greeted by the hologram of a red-haired girl clad in a uniform – white blouse, black tie, classic green vest, and skirt.
“Eternal Sun to you, Citizen!” she beamed radiantly. “Unfortunately, your rank couldn’t be automatically determined. Would you like to authenticate via the ‘My Wallet’ application?”
“Yes,” Gleb replied, confirming the action by clicking the media glyph that appeared above the app icon.
“Red class recruit, Gleb Evseyev, first tier. Your access is confirmed,” the redhead chirped happily.
The hologram of the girl shifted to the left, unfolding a vast menu in the cleared space. It resembled the interface of a major online hypermarket, but with myriad options and sections. Fortunately, at the top were prominently located two comprehensible choices: “Information” and “Interactive Assistant.”
Pressing for time yet curious, Gleb tapped on “Information” and skimmed through it quickly. He discovered that the Protectorate’s stores were divided into two types:
“Official” – these were the UNSA stores, all interconnected and managed by a special department within the government cluster of the Blue Public Efficiency Classes. Smaller orders were typically processed on-site, while larger ones were delivered to a collection point. Prices were unified across all the Protectorate cities on the planet, a concept quite alien to a modern Earthling but having a right to exist.
“Standard” – these were smaller shops, boutiques, and workshops run by citizens of the Green class. Prices, assortment, and quality here were not heavily regulated; the main requirement was adherence to the Class Law. There was a link to this law, but Gleb had no time to read it.
Moreover, he learned that all these stores shared a single app, which he was now accessing. Online ordering was available from anywhere in the city through this app. Consequently, the necessary program was already downloading and installing.
“Ugh, time to run... But I haven’t ordered anything yet, and still wanna check it out! I can make a quick order, right? Let’s see, here...”
Gleb activated the “Interactive Assistant” and swiftly selected an “urban” backpack, since he was left with virtually nothing after the invasion and disliked running around without something comfortable behind his shoulders. The assistant in the “vending machine” proved quite efficient, allowing him to quickly choose the model, size, options, and color.
While his item was being “prepared”, the guy added a sports water bottle with ginger-lemon drink to his order. Notably, there were neither alcohol nor drugs available in any form in the store sections.
“The manufacturing took just three minutes! Not bad at all,” Gleb thought, slinging the new backpack over his shoulder. “And the drink, quite refreshing, indeed. The whole order cost me 17 sols and 29 taels... What can I say? My starting capital will last for a very, veeery many backpacks.”
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“Man, this noise is quite something!” Gleb mused.
At the opposite end from the entrance across the square, large screens had been set up, and the area was divided into thirteen identical sectors. They were colored and lettered; and while there were only four “Reds,” the rest ones were “Blues.”
“It’s the ‘Blues’ making all the racket,” he noted, going around the edge to his sector thirteen.
Scanning the crowd, Gleb noticed that most of the new Blue class participants wore their everyday clothes. However, some kind of uniform was apparent – a few were decked out in quite stylish dark blue uniforms.
Actually, there still appeared one universal element – a large blue badge with golden insignia pinned on the left chest of every Blue Class representative.
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Seemingly, they were serving the same purpose as his token. “And it’s clear at a glance which class you’re dealing with. Convenient,” he thought.
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Gleb spotted a towering figure with familiar spiky black hair and a neck tattoo striding by.
“Hey, ‘sup, shorty! Watch where you’re goin’!”
“Speak for yourself, twig!” responded the slightly spaced-out hefty figure, finally recognizing his acquaintance.
Kamil turned around, eyeing Gleb’s black-red jacket, then smirked snidely, “Looks like they’ve kept you with us since you’re in the red sector? Thought they didn’t take wimps like you in the army!”
“It’s brains, my Neanderthal friend, that matter, not brute strength! Police, Senior Detective Gleb Evseyev, show me your documents!”
“That’s cops talk, not detective. And there are no more polises or states, you should know that...” Kamil idly scratched his spiky hair.
“Whatever. I’m kidding anyway; we’re all just recruits here. And yes, I’m in the police now, but I’ll really make it to become a detective. What about you? Headed to be a valiant defender on the Walls?”
“Nope, I’m up for special training. Really curious myself to see how it will go. But they’ve got me seriously motivated – mass attacks by the shaiszu on the city are expected soon. Guess I can’t avoid the Walls either,” Kamil mused.
At that moment, a roar from the sky announced another giant “aircraft” maneuvering for landing. For a few moments, they had to wait out the deafening noise as the “sky giant” finally completed its descent. Speaking under such an onslaught was far from comfortable.
Kamil had already ducked into the sector to avoid blocking the way, standing next to a friend who was fervently typing something in augmented reality.
Finally, the clamor subsided, replaced by a now-familiar humming.
“So, we’ll see how it turns out,” Kamil concluded. “Hey, check it out, Julia replied!”
“Cool, what’s up with them?” Gleb asked, reconnecting to the group chat he had muted during his testing to avoid distractions. “Oh! Good for them. Blue class. Both engineers and it looks like Slavek finally got his dream job – they both went to the construction department. He always bugged us with his building stuff. And Julia, as always, is on drones.”
“Yeah, she’s pretty awesome. Second only to Alba.” Kamil nodded.
“Hopefully, we’ll have a chance to catch up... maybe later. I think they won’t even let us breathe easy for a while,” Gleb responded.
“Well, God willing, we’ll meet again.”
“Uh-huh, gotta stick with your own.”
Their conversation was cut short as a siren blared suddenly and overwhelmingly loud. A spectacular scene unfolded before the stunned friends: from the industrial buildings just beyond the tribune, swarms of small black drones burst into the sky.
The thought that the air was already heavy with flying robotics had crossed their minds before, but they were mistaken. NOW there were many drones.
“Looks like they deployed an express manufacturing plant,” Gleb whispered, squinting at the scene. “Zoom in, those machines definitely look simpler than anything we’ve seen so far, but there’s a shit-ton of them.”
“Like a swarm of locusts,” Kamil agreed, nodding.
“Yep. Wonder where they’re all heading so resolutely?”
Alas, the gawping lads wouldn’t find out just yet.
As the siren fell silent, the large screens on the walls sprang to life, creating a massive holographic image. The sounds of an anthem still unknown to the audience filled the air, and the Protectorate’s crest appeared on the screens – a black heraldic eagle clutching a silver Templar Sword and Sphere against a blazing yellow Sun.
“It looks like our wait is over!”
The crest was replaced by the hologram of a man in a stern white uniform adorned with gold epaulettes, aiguillettes, and a belt with sheaths. Solid in stature, with short sandy hair and piercing gray-steel eyes under heavy brows.
As the last chords of the anthem died away, his voice boomed across the plaza,
“Eternal Sun, Citizens! Welcome to City-21 ‘Kyiv’ of the Avril Dominion of the UNSA Protectorate, the safest place on this planet! Thank you for choosing to cooperate with the Protectorate.”
“I am the Kriegsherzog of the White Group of Public Efficiency Classes, General of the Fourth Army of Avril, one of the Great States within the UNSA Protectorate, Adalbert von Lamarck.”
“You may wonder, ‘Why are we here?’, ‘How could this have happened to our world?’, ‘Could anything have been done to prevent this?’.”
The Kriegsherzog paused, seemingly giving the crowd a moment to ponder these questions internally.
Half a minute later, he continued,
“I have an answer.”
“The shaiszu – that is what cannot be prevented. The shaiszu is the true evil of the Universe, devouring world after world. They will never stop. They will always attack... as long as even one of them lives. There can be no negotiations with them. No treaties can be signed. Either they kill us, or we kill them.”
“This battle has been ongoing for centuries, flaring up in more and more new worlds. We know how to win. If we arrive in time – the world is saved. Otherwise – complete annihilation.”
“You are fortunate. We made it to your world in time. Now, we can stop the shaiszu together. But this will require full understanding and support from each of you!”
“As you already know, our society is built on a clear structure that divides it into Public Efficiency Classes and sets the rules for interaction between them.”
“There is a place for every member of society where he or she can be most effective in our collective effort, thanks to precise assessment of abilities, skills, and potential for development.”
“The Classes are the backbone, the support, and the foundation of security and prosperity! Group membership is not given lightly – it must be earned! Show us that we did not make a mistake in giving you a chance to enter the blue and red classes.”
“The higher the Group, the more difficult the path. But it is all in your hands. Remember! Defeating the shaiszu is only possible when all citizens unite as one fist against our common enemy!”
“There is much you still need to learn, and I promise you – you will get the answers to your questions!”
“Do not leave the plaza; the allocation to your residences and service positions will begin shortly.”
“Long may the Sun shine upon you, Citizens!”
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City-21 “Kyiv”, UNSA Protectorate, Avril Dominion
August 12, 2049, 7:00 PM
At the stroke of the curfew, the city ignited in a spectacle of lights as every advertising display – along the streets, on the facades, ends, and rooftops of buildings – blazed to life.
Simultaneously, a persistent mediaglyph knocked on the augmented reality of every citizen, marked with an “IMPORTANT!” tag.
The video began with a musical greeting and an intro featuring the UNSA emblem. After the introduction, the scene switched to a studio bathed in soft hues.
Sitting behind a large desk was a woman, a stunning brunette with blue eyes, all her image emanating elegance, professionalism, safety. Her hair was styled neatly, and she wore a black and red military uniform, minimal makeup, and a calm, confident smile. On her shoulders were the epaulets of the Red Class, framed in double gold with four small sun symbols.
Six class badges were standing on the table – white, white-and-yellow, red, blue, green, and gray. Behind the woman, the official banner of the UNSA Protectorate was billowing on the screen.
“Good evening. I am Sophia-Elizabeth Mayer, and you’re hearing the Voice of the Protectorate!”
“The operation against the shaiszu continues successfully. Major infection centers are currently contained and undergoing purification. The emergence of new portals within city limits is being blocked.”
“Attention! Combat may persist for several more days, so please heed the security measures provided.”
“To avoid complications, install the AR application ‘Protectorate.Security.’ This will keep you informed about military operations, help you plan safe routes, and avoid combat zones. Also, should you report the location of small portals, nests, or individual shaiszu, you will receive a substantial reward!”
“Important! The curfew is declared for all residents, except for members of the White, White-Yellow, and certain ranks of the Red Classes.”
“The curfew will be in effect from 19:00 to 06:00 for the safety of all citizens! Note that at night, the aggressiveness of certain shaiszu increases, and also rise the chances of spontaneous ‘rifts’ opening, which cannot be blocked due to their small size and short duration.”
“During the curfew, all citizens, except for special categories, are allowed free movement only within their own block.”
“Crossing the city boundary – whether by ground or underground routes, on foot, using transport or flying vehicles – is under special control. Exiting the city without special permission is prohibited for all residents, except for members of the white and white-yellow classes.”
“Anyone who violates the curfew or attempts to breach the city perimeter is a deserter who has weakened their comrades and strengthened the enemy, becoming fodder and intelligence for the shaiszu.”
“Therefore, violations are unacceptable and will be severely punished!”
“Civilians obligated to report to a gathering point but who fail to arrive on time must proceed to the nearest support point or collection site for punishment immediately after the curfew ends. You have sixty minutes to register.”
“Those who fail to comply with this mandate will be sentenced to corrective labor and demoted to the Grey Class, with a ban on rehabilitation for a duration of one month.”
“Renouncers required to leave the city and the hundred-kilometer zone within the permitted by Trilateral Agreement interval who fail to meet this requirement must proceed to the nearest collection point within thirty minutes after the curfew ends. To set a control point in your navigation program, connect to the Protectorate UNSA extranet.”
“In case of non-compliance and absence of registration at the collection point within the specified period, you will be sentenced to death.”
“Curfew patrols, armed forces of the Protectorate, and automated military machinery are authorized to open fire without warning, following the ‘Inevitability of Punishment for Law Violation’ paradigm.”
“Attention! Testing of citizens for eligibility for the Grey Rank will begin on 17.08.2049 at the Protectorate’s support points in each city sector.”
“If you encounter difficulties with housing, food, or medical care before the testing begins, contact the @Protectorate.Help hotline.”
“Long may the Sun shine upon you, Citizens!”