2072; 40 years since the mandatory privatisation of governments, both on and off world.

A totalitarian society—controlled by what some believe to be a Quantum AI—hellbent on the ‘maximisation of the workforce’ is suffocating humanity.

Humans aren’t built to work 20 hours a day, and that doesn’t fit within the economic model. It was deemed necessary that our nervous systems be ‘enhanced’ at birth via spinal implants. We call them SIMPs. They’re an always-on connection to the ever present Adrenaline Grid.

The damned Grid. The cause of our suffering. It’s marketed as a solution to encourage workforce wide ‘productive and focused’ attitudes, but the reality is that it’s a noose around our neck—a threat—that enforces obedience.

Our lives have been stolen from us. We want them back.

  • 2nd February 2072 Sweet Dream

    For a couple of hours after the 20 hour shift, the Grid emits delta waves throughout our nervous systems, inducing a sleep—across the entire workforce—designed to repair the body and prohibit dreaming. No one knows why it’s system wide, you’d think, with all of their intelligence and AI’s, that staggering sleep across segments of the workforce would be more efficient.

    I can’t tell anyone—I’d rather die than go through severe nerve punishment again—but I’m starting to have sporadic dreams. They’re rare, but beautiful. For a fleeting moment, I feel powerful.

  • 3rd April 2072 Pressure

    It’s ironic, and probably a cruel joke, that SIMP sounds like an abbreviation of sympathy, something our ‘leaders’ have no concept of. They’re cold at their core and dead behind the eyes.

    I want to tear this damned SIMP from my spine, even if it kills me. All the talk, all the promises, all the media streams. Nothing but lies and propaganda.

    We’re living fuel for the relentless engine of economic growth.

  • 11th November 2072 Iridescent

    An accident at work sparked an electrical surge in my SIMP, saturating my nervous system with immense pain and power, jolting my awareness out of my physical body.

    It was incredible. Rhythmic vibrations—pulsating sounds—of an infinite intelligence first cradled, then merged with my own awareness. I could feel the geometric structures that govern the laws of the physical realm, and sense the singular awareness that permeates all. I’ve never seen such beauty; interweaving layers and spheres of all colours.

    In a sudden burst of light—clarity—I knew the truth. I AM a facet of this infinite intelligence, the Oneness. I am powerful; my soul iridescent!

  • 11th December 2072 Solar Highway

    When I awoke, the surge had severed my SIMP to Grid connection. No Grid means no instant nerve punishment. Freedom, but with a caveat; I was no longer receiving adrenaline inducing nerve stimulation.

    By some kind of miracle, with a searing, heavy body that felt like molten rock, I managed to escape the factory by causing an explosive diversion.

    I stole a star speeder and raced from the burning compound, DEMONS (Defence Monitor Sentinels; military AI’s) on my tail. I didn’t mean to cause so much destruction. I guess I got lucky.

  • 11th September 2072 Supernova

    A few days after breaking through Earth’s atmosphere I was captured. Not by DEMONS, but by a force fighting the Grid. They took me in, listened to my story and, after extended questioning, offered me a choice.

    As the saying goes, I took the Red Pill. Over the next few days the layers of lies were scraped back, the truth airing like an open wound that refused to heal.

    My glimpse into infinite intelligence is the keystone, the secret they’ve been hiding from us for Millenia. They call it The Sublime, and connecting to it voluntarily, using its power—its iridescent light—is called going Supernova. Only a handful of people in any solar system can do it, and that’s what they fear the most. Only the Supernova have the power to fight an entire solar system.

    That’s the real reason SIMPs exist. They sever some kind of energetic connection we have to The Sublime and repress the dreaming state of sleep, as The Sublime reaches out to us in our dreams.

    It was an AI that spotted an opportunity to use SIMPs to turn us into economic slaves via the Adrenaline Grid. Turns out humanity’s enslavement was an afterthought.

    They also enlightened me as to why the entire system is forced to sleep at the same time; routine AI algorithm optimisation and backup. They don’t want a single soul conscious when that happens.

    We know why—the truth—and we’re going to fight for it.

    The Grid, SIMPs and DEMONS: Your time is over.

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