“Precisely seven hours standard time. Time to wake up! A very good morning to all residents of Tower Thirty-Seven and have a successful day! Do not forget to take your required set of vitamins! According to the schedule, you require set number forty-four-sixteen-D…”
Dunar slowly opened his eyes, gradually shaking off the haze of sleep while the cheerful voice of the program woke him, reminding him once again of all the necessary morning procedures.
Although the boy would have gladly agreed to spend at least a few more minutes in his warm, soft bed, such a breach of discipline would reflect poorly on his personal file—the very thing he had spent so long working for.
Deviations might be permitted in the future, but certainly not today.
Tossing aside the synthetic blanket, he rose quickly and swallowed a dozen tablets in one gulp, which had appeared alongside water in a small machine by his bed—standard equipment for all adolescent quarters.
For children under twelve, it seemed a new system had already been introduced, but he wasn’t particularly interested; Dunar had left the “nurseries” three years ago and tried to distance himself from anything childish or frivolous that might tarnish his reputation.
A little longer and he would be transferred to the adult stream, where he would even be given the chance to go outside!
Of course, he would have to pass dozens of tests and prove he was the best in his class, followed by an interview with the senior staff, but it was all worth the chance to go and explore such a vast and unknown world, a world he had heard of since birth…
“Don’t forget to do your exercises! A healthy spirit in a healthy body! Today we begin with a light warm-up to help you wake up and increase cognitive activity by a minimum of sixteen percent!”
Every resident of Tower Thirty-Seven would recognize that voice out of thousands, so often did they hear it.
Dunar didn’t know if the voices were different in the other monoliths, but in their specific tower, this eternally soft and positive voice of a woman who had no face or even a body sounded from every corner, from wake-up until evening.
The machine-synthesized voice was designed to be as harmless and non-aggressive as possible, so that anyone could listen to it for hours without feeling nauseated.
The Voice was the embodiment of their home’s security system, which constantly monitored every resident and helped them grow and develop with maximum efficiency.
Even though he saw that many adults—those who hadn’t grown up in the nurseries—made rather unpleasant comments about it when returning from expeditions, Dunar himself felt quite positive toward it.
For children who had never even seen their biological parents, the Voice was the one who cared for them most and always knew how to help.
“Educational sessions begin in one hour! Fifteen minutes to prepare so as not to be late! Today is an important day, so I advise you to hurry!”
Quickly dressing in his blue work suit and finishing his grooming, Dunar stepped out of the small gray room.
Its only notable features were a single bed, a small wardrobe for clothes and personal belongings, and a desk with a second door leading to the bathroom.
Leaving his sanctuary, he stepped immediately into a long corridor where dozens of girls and boys his age were already moving toward the classrooms.
Dunar reflexively joined the formation, occasionally exchanging glances with his closest acquaintances and those he could call true friends.
Their classes were shuffled every three months, so he personally knew almost every student his age, as well as many older people who looked after him, and even a few children he was assigned to supervise during “future generation upbringing” lessons.
However, while Dunar knew many, he had very few truly close people.
The Tower did not strongly encourage such bonds, but it did not prevent them either.
As long as your efficiency and metrics were excellent, you were free to be friends with anyone…
“Are you ready? I mean, obviously you’re ready, but where do you think they’ll send you?” a tall boy in an identical uniform asked him nervously.
He possessed the noticeable pallor common to all Tower residents.
“Avitus, that adult guy from the sixth stream, said that this year the exams will be much harder because of some new program set from above. And they say they’re recruiting people not for another expedition to some old city ruins, but for something much bigger…”
Vicarius was a decent enough guy, reminding Dunar much of himself, but a bit smarter, which allowed him to surpass Dunar in all theoretical exams.
The latter always pulled ahead in the practicals, showing the results of years of hardening his body through long training sessions.
Ultimately, their small rivalry, which flared up a few years ago, had somehow miraculously become the foundation of a strong friendship.
They were the best in their stream, and in the Tower, that meant a great deal.
“I’m sure we’ll pass any test without issue,” Dunar replied with a smirk.
“Logically speaking, the exam shouldn’t be impossible; otherwise, it wouldn’t be useful. Therefore, being the best, we should pass without trouble and, with high probability, get into this coveted new project.”
“True, but it’s still interesting what this new recruitment is for. Maybe they finally decided to build the space elevator? There were a lot of rumors about that. Or maybe they’re finally going to send expeditions to other planets? In any case, it’s clearly something big, and joining it would be such an honor…”
They fell silent instantly as they passed a group of several people sitting in gray steel chambers behind armored glass.
Most adults spent almost all their time in the wastelands, but a few individuals among them—who for some reason had immersed themselves too deeply in the virtual capsules—spent all their time here.
They spent twenty-four standard hours a day in artificial reality, and every student saw where that led.
They called people like them “sluggards” because, after long stays in the capsules, their reactions slowed down significantly, and all their real-world sensations faded.
In the rare moments they spent in reality, such people walked hunched over, barely dragging their feet. New chapters come out on g.com first.
Dirty, incredibly thin, and with crazed eyes—it was obvious at first glance that they had destroyed their own lives with their own hands.
Even the desire to do anything at all gradually withered away.
Former warriors who had once moved through the endless wastelands became a dull, amorphous mass after just a few uses of the capsules.
And after a couple of years of constant presence inside the complexes, any desire to spend time outside the chambers was completely burned out of them.
Dunar didn’t even want to admit it to himself, but just one look at these people caused him to shiver—a quiet horror that motivated him to become better.
Every child raised within the steel walls of the Tower from infancy developed an almost instinctive fear of becoming such an empty shell.
This was why none of the youth spent time on such “false” amusements.
They were ready for anything, for any risks or trials, just so they wouldn’t become…
like that.
“Ten minutes until classes begin! I advise everyone to take their seats and prepare! Streams twenty-seven through fifty-five are undergoing final exams and verification of their next place of employment upon graduation! Good luck to all, and remember! The strongest wins!”
“Good luck,” Vicarius called out quickly before turning his head toward the auditorium where his group was entering.
“The best don’t need luck. We just win,” Dunar joked, dropping a line understood only by the two of them, before heading into the room where he would prove his skills and earn the position he truly deserved.
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.
.
“Reload, reload, reload… No, seriously! I’m actually being admitted to Project ‘Dawn’ too? Does that mean… we made it?!”
“Is there something wrong with your eyes or what? Get checked in a med-capsule if you need to,” Dunar replied with a smirk, while Vicarius reread the message that would define their lives for years to come for the umpteenth time.
“And I advise you not to get distracted by your tablet during dinner. You’re already skin and bones, and without internal reserves, you’ll hardly endure what’s coming… Besides, we worked hard, so we definitely earned this. Sometimes we need rest no less than good work.”
Meals, like absolutely everything else in the Tower, were conducted strictly on schedule.
They had a standard set of mashed roots and stewed mushrooms, but as a celebration, the graduates were given a portion of synthetic meat and even several desserts made of hematogen and sugar seaweed.
Dunar had only tasted them twice in his life, and right now, he couldn’t imagine tearing himself away from the delicacy.
“I guess you’re right,” Vicarius replied, finally putting the tablet aside and looking over his plate.
“It’s just interesting where the others will go. As far as I found out, only the two of us made it to this ‘Dawn.’ It’ll be sad not knowing any of the guys…”
“Recruitment for the diplomatic corps has been decreasing since the annexation of new territories finished, so there’s a high chance everyone will end up in one of the engineering, maintenance, or research departments. I doubt there will be much use for a soldier after the unification of the planet is complete. Who is left to fight, anyway?” Dunar suggested calmly, biting into another piece of meat.
“Are you kidding? I heard Derek talking about how he saw one of the old hunters who came back a few weeks ago with the head of one of the wild machines. Their machine squad was almost completely destroyed; only the old man’s combat suit model remained intact. And that head was apparently twice the size of ours! I’m sure soldiers will always find work,” Vicarius replied with a chuckle, finally picking up his spoon to start eating.
“Though, to be honest, I wouldn’t want to end up there. They say the adults who lived before the Towers and the Empire appeared… they’re, well, not the best people.”
“The truly bad ones are sitting in capsules right now, wasting their lives on who-knows-what,” Dunar replied gloomily.
“The others are just a bit primitive. They don’t understand that their old, stupid world has become better, and so they’re still kicking, hoping to change something. Did you hear what happened to Retf? That hunter who walked around in a combat suit with a real axe?”
“He was actually quite decent,” the boy replied quietly, looking around cautiously and clearly unhappy with where the conversation was heading.
“During a lesson with the seniors, he once brought us a real mutant lizard and told stories about fighting machines and how good it is outside the walls…”
“Yeah, and he also reportedly tried to escape and hide somewhere in the wastelands, taking weapons and survival rations with him. If you liked him so much, you can always stand by the windows and watch how he drools in a virt-capsule now,” Dunar finished, closing the conversation.
“I wonder what they see in there…” Vicarius replied, his mood spoiled, turning his gaze away again.
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“This isn’t a joke, is it? Please, tell me my eyes aren’t deceiving me,” Vicarius said in shock, frozen in place.
“They very rarely lie, my friend,” Dunar replied, trying to hide his inner feelings. The source of this chapter is g.com.
From birth, the children of the Empire knew only the steel walls of the Tower, and nothing else.
They had grown up within them, studied every centimeter thoroughly, and knew its entire layout like the back of their hands.
This was what they called home and the motherland that had given them everything—it was eternally frozen in their hearts…
But the sight of the silver wasteland and the endless gray sky still struck their souls.
Standing on the very roof of their home, they saw dozens of kilometers of earth covered in steel that simply had no end.
The Empire was no ordinary state—it was the land itself, a living manifestation of the planet occupying most of its surface.
Only now, seeing its unprecedented scale, could they truly grasp it.
The effect was heightened by the fresh air that hadn’t passed through dozens of filters.
There was a cold, metallic tang to it that gave life flavor while simultaneously killing with every breath.
And the sky itself—it was simply stunning.
Still covered by heavy clouds, even after the creation of massive air purifiers at the north and south poles of the planet, the golden light of the sun was already peeking through them, illuminating the faces of the two teenagers.
For the first time in his life, Dunar tried to grasp the concept of a world not confined on all sides, one that allowed you to move wherever you wished.
And the longer he thought about it, the more his perception expanded.
So many new and amazing thoughts began to come to him, so many new impressions and tastes…
“Now it’s clear why few adults like returning to the Towers. And why there are so many old people in virt-capsules who refused to submit to the Empire during its formation…”
“Remember, you aren’t gathered here for nothing,” their mentor’s stern voice snapped the boys out of their thoughts and brought them back to the mundane earth.
“Your transport will arrive soon to take you to the designated point where you will be working. You are the pride of our Tower, so I strongly advise you not to embarrass us. Otherwise, I guarantee I will personally create the program for your artificial ‘entertainment’.”
They both flinched for a moment but showed no fear.
Their teacher, responsible for many lessons on weapon handling and practical combat, was a stern elderly man of about eighty who continued to live largely thanks to Tower technology.
He passed on knowledge to the new generation, striving to follow all instructions from above with maximum precision.
Mostly, children were taught via pre-recorded lessons from professionals or lectures from programs, but every stream had a few such “live” teachers who monitored behavior and honed the discipline of their students.
It was no surprise that the most resilient and proven people were chosen for this role.
As far as Dunar remembered, fifteen years ago the training situation was terrible, but over the years, they had managed to build a solid foundation.
“We definitely will…”
Dunar didn’t have time to finish, as the noise of a roaring engine descending from the heavens cut him off.
Looking up, he immediately saw a giant machine descending toward their home from the sky itself.
A gray hull with four wings and several weapons visible even from a distance.
The machine didn’t even bother landing on the roof; it simply hovered in the air before opening its hatches, which struck the floor to form a sort of staircase.
Dunar and Vicarius felt as if they were in a dream as they boarded, and they experienced even greater shock upon meeting the other gathered youths.
The younger generation, the best of the best from across the planet—such was their status.
They saw fear and ambition in the eyes of those present, exactly like their own.
And when the two newcomers took their places in comfortable chairs designed to protect against pressure changes, the transport vehicle let out another roar before heading upward, straight into the heavens and beyond.
Only during the flight did it dawn on Dunar that they weren’t moving to some new location on the planet, but beyond it.
Since such a small ship certainly couldn’t leave the atmosphere on its own, there was only one logical destination.
Directly to Telstarax—the greatest treasure of Sthenelus.