u/Not_TheTourist626

Nicknamed:
• The Decadent Corner of Europe
• The Business With a Culture
And most favouriely
• How the hell are they still a thing!!!

Long before humanity's rise, the land now home to Gök Palace and the city of Namur was once the vibrant, ancient Arden Forest. Towering oaks, beech, and elms formed a lush canopy, with wildflowers carpeting the forest floor. This sprawling woodland traced the winding paths of the Sambre and Meuse rivers, carving fertile valleys and rugged outcroppings where diverse wildlife thrived, including herds of aurochs, packs of wolves, and a kaleidoscope of birdlife thrived.

Now, after the Vanished, all returned to what once was. Now Nomadic tribes, slavers, and marauders intermittently haunted these woods, calling it the ‘Wandering Wilderness.’ An isolated, islandless expanse of Western Europe—stretching from the remnants of the Ile republic near Paris, through Flanders city-states, across the Rhine republics, down to Lake Geneva—this wilderness was a haven for rebels, criminals, religious zealots, and wandering nomads. They roamed hills, rivers, and forests, coexisting with Irish Elk, Amur Tigers, and native wildlife.

By 2055, tensions exploded in what became known as the Wallonia Skirmish. Marauding warbands and slavers grew bolder, forcing the construction of defensive fortifications along key points of the Meuse River, the largest of which was erected where Namur once stood.

This fortress, built in collaboration with the city-state of Liège as a vital supply point via the river Meuse, was crafted from locally sourced wood. It majestically perched atop a prominent rocky outcrop where the Sambre River meets the Meuse—at the site of Namur’s ancient citadel. It was a symbol of resilience, a wooden fortress commanding the landscape.

Controversy surrounded the Labour prison held within its walls, where captured raiders from skirmishes were confined. Following intense debate, the Ghentish Technate launched the ‘Realignment Program,’ forcing these prisoners into hard labor and reeducation—striving to integrate them into society. They toiled tirelessly, laying the foundations of the fortress and the settlement of Namur.

By 2060, the fortress had become a vital southern gateway to the Wilderness, a sentinel guarding Ghent and serving as a bustling trade hub linking to the newly incorporated Liège. Over time, it became a barracks and storehouse for settlers heading into Kawa Meuse Country, gradually falling into neglect.

In 2094, scholar-explorer Stanisława Kamińska, wealthy from airship trade routes to the Danubian Confederation, Egypt, and Oblast of Astrakhan, bought the dilapidated fortress. She transformed it into her estate, turning the site into a château—an elegant palace and fortress. It featured a tower for astronomers and a massive telescope funded by Lady Stanisława herself. Designed by a Ghentish Turk, it was completed in 2108, marking the 80th anniversary of the Vanishing, and named Gök Palace, or Château Gök—meaning ‘Celestial Fortress.’

After Lady Stanisława died childless in 2122, the château was gifted to the Technate in recognition of their role in founding the eighth city of the Commonwealth. It became the Technate’s summer retreat.

Then, on December 13th, within the grounds of the Celestial Fortress, the Technate joined people from across the Commonwealth gathered to witness a rare event—a partial Lunar Eclipse paired with the Geminid Meteor Shower. As fires flickered and friends and families shared stories under the night sky, the fortress stood as a breathtaking symbol—a true Celestial Seat of the Commonwealth.

The Imperial Group is widely recognized for its dual nature. While it champions universal education accessible to all age groups, promotes an Eco-industrial approach focusing on sustainable development within its initial territories, and advances Ghentish Socialism—where local workers employed by the regional Imperial conglomerate Gem share ownership, influence, and profits from activities such as hydroponic farming, banking, and scientific research—its darker facets are equally evident.

Those who resist conformity face strict consequences. Food produced in Imperial farms is of superior quality, and Imperial workers enjoy discounts on all Imperial products. However, individuals outside the boundaries of a healthy society see their lifespan and wellbeing compromised. Citizens can purchase from Imperial farms, utilize Imperial tools and programs, and operate small businesses selling Imperial medicine alongside others. Yet, those opposing the regime on ideological grounds or engaged in criminal activities are subject to penalties—sometimes symbolized by a gemstone, reflecting how life can deliver unpredictable hardships.

During the Korku Era, the study of history was strategically employed to guide efforts against the French terrorist group attacking the Ghentish Counties and to fund countermeasures aligned with Imperial interests, all while attempting to avoid offending the authorities in Ghent and London. Groups like the Sons of Gomorrah and other terrorist factions resorted to covert financial operations—money laundering, cyber crimes, smuggling, tax evasion, illegal gambling, and ultimately arms trafficking and synthetic drug production involving foreign criminal networks—funded predominantly by profits from illicit activities targeting French partisans and their allies.

After decades of conflict, peace was finally brokered between the Imperial Group and French authorities. In accordance with the Loire Accords, the Imperial Group designated the ‘ Sons of Gomorrah’ and other Ghentish paramilitary wings as a terror organizations, and individuals affiliated with it were considered members of a criminal regime. Consequently, most paramilitary units disbanded and restructured into widespread organized crime networks.

By 2251, former members of Gomorrah and similar terror groups operate under three prominent criminal organizations: the Sequoias family, the Warhounds gang, and the Yiosman Family. The Yiosman Clan, the most notorious, traces its origins to the intermarriage of Yi Won—a cadet branch of former Korea’s royal house—and Osman, from the former Ottoman royal house. This lineage created the house of Yiosman, which has amassed immense wealth through connections to cyberdrug operations, Aether distribution across the Americas, and sophisticated money laundering and large scale insider trading. All of this is can be attributed to the workings of the Onxy Network, the intelligence agency of the Imperial group, who use these organizations to pour crime into the Imperial Group, the United Kingdoms and occasionally allies like Brazil, the Philippines and Korea, to weaken nations, corporations or group of people, so they are more susceptible to their actions, all while funding their operations and trading in favors.

These 3 groups, were not allies or ever friendly to the official the Imperial Group, only to one, the shadow Leviathan, and the Imperial Group's intelligence agency, the Onyx Network. With their links to Onyx Network, these groups were “guided” to undermine and undercut enemies, corporate, foreign governments, and even specified ethnic groups. These tactics were not just for the Imperial Gem’s benefit, but also for the UK government and fellow allies, like Brazil, Korea, and the Philippines. These criminal enterprises also help fund and support Onyx Network in ‘off-the-books’ projects and operations, away from Imperial eyes. 

From the Asian casino hub of Ha Long to global Aether trade routes, and across European illicit markets specializing in counterfeiting and financial crimes, the remnants of Gomorrah may be gone, but their influence persists. Like the charred shadows cast over the abandoned ruins of the cursed city, its legacy continues to haunt the modern world, a reminder of the enduring darkness underlying Imperialistic ambitions.

and those who wish to climb that ladder of power…

Empty Continents -

In the ways of equality and fairness, life isn’t always equal or fair; for common ants, you're a boot away from your world collapsing. Or, in the case of the people of Ghent, you travel to a quiet, medieval European town and wonder, “What is life like here in the beginning?” suddenly, you're burning alive a group of zealots in the cathedral, reminiscent of the Sept of Baelor in King’s Landing.

Even after three years of relative stability—British resupplies, a stable government in power, and a balanced diet that nearly filled every belly—Ghent still carried a foul smell. Electric power was limited mostly to a generator providing electricity for the kitchen and radio. Only one truck and a few 4x4s were allowed within the city due to fuel and maintenance constraints. Residents bathed in the cold river on the western bank, but fatalities still occurred in the water from sunken boats, E. coli infections, and pneumonia. Bathing took place where toilets were emptied or water was collected, with people using buckets and then throwing the dirty water onto the street.

One day, a man threw his bathwater directly onto the newly designated Technate of Ghent, drenching him in the street in mid-October. Frustrated and aware of their medieval standards, he decided something must change. A town meeting was called, and although collective plumbing infrastructure wasn't yet feasible, the idea of building a bathhouse was proposed. Plans for its construction began on the eastern bank.

Once operational, the bathhouse became a symbol of luxury for the residents. Water was transported from the river via small, stone-lined aqueducts, then filtered through layered cloth meshes and boiled in large copper vats over open fires before use. The facility featured one large communal pool, six warm water baths, and dry saunas, which operated five days a week around the clock. Every Ghentian had the right to wash, and equality was prioritized: the bathing areas were gender-inclusive, and mornings were reserved for families to bathe together for two hours before opening to the general public.

Within weeks of its opening, the Badstu—the Swedish word for bathhouse—with a nod to Turkish, Japanese, or Korean names avoided to preserve the unique Ghentish identity, life within Ghent had markedly improved. The overall unrest decreased, and general health improved as the Badstu became a central social hub. Men and women could see each other as equals, sharing daily routines that fostered social cohesion. The early days saw everyone in roughly similar, rough-edged states, with no one overly fat or overly thin. The Badstu itself evolved into a more glamorous space, combining Ottoman arches and intricate tiles, Korean-style napping alcoves for privacy, and outdoor quiet garden baths inspired by Japanese tradition.

Decades later, following the integration of Lille and Kortrijk and the pacification of the east, or more commonly known as the ‘Wallonia Skirmish,’ all major towns and cities were equipped with Ghentish-style Badstus. These included specialized medical baths and pools designed for water births, communal hydrotherapy, and muscle-relaxing exercises for workers. These facilities also supported the assimilation of newly incorporated populations into the Ghentish way of life.

Today, the Ghentish Bathhouse is a cultural norm, deeply embedded in local customs. While personal plumbing has become more common in individual homes, many still incorporate Badstus into their regular routines. Diplomatic meetings, such in one occasion in the  discussions between European representatives and the Ghentish, for the division of the Federation of the Middle Rhine, the heating went out during a cold winter day, and finished within the hot bathhouse that day. 

There’s nothing quite like a hot bath after a hard day’s work.

The security entrance for Minotaur Under Tower was heavily fortified, featuring reinforced steel doors, biometric scanners, and armed guards. After a tense 20-minute delay, they finally denteredr the the prison. The entire interior was…white—not simply painted white, but emanating a soft, glowing light. The floors and ceiling radiated a hot white hue with an almost blinding luminosity, while the walls consisted of plain gray concrete adorned with black metal railings.

Inside, prisoners moved about during the ‘meal time role call,’ all were human, dressed uniformly in light gray tank tops and shorts made of lightweight fabric. Security measures were minimal—no heavy guards or barriers, giving the place an eerily open feel.

It was surreal; no one appeared dangerous, as the entire environment seemed sanitized and pristine. Olive was the first to notice something unusual—a faint grey augmentation embedded into the back of a prisoner's entire spine, illuminated by a single lime-green light.

Warden Medici watched Finn point toward a prisoner and anticipated the question before it was asked.

“Each prisoner has a Spinal Augment, known as a Steel Back, or SB—though it’s constructed from a titanium composite. This device is grafted directly into their nervous system, allowing us to monitor their health and control their behavior—regulating eating, sleeping, and maintaining passivity. In extreme cases, it can even seize their movements. These Augments are only used on human prisoners here in Minotaur,” Medici explained.

For some inexplicable reason, Olive raised her massive Goliath hand, as if a curious student in school waiting to ask a question.
“Only humans? Who or what else is here?” Olive inquired mildly, a note of worry in her voice.

The others could see the smile behind Olive’s Crista helmet, knowing she possessed knowledge they didn’t.

“We house a few thousand normal humans in the largest section,” Medici continued. “Most work in the Argent mines extracting copper and silver for profit. The miners are kept in good shape and used as test subjects for experiments in the other towers. The lower section of the Under-tower is designated for containing dangerous plants, exotic animals, and a few machine intelligences—things that require strict confinement and constant monitoring, something we will be finishing shortly ,” she added. After a few routine questions about morality, Finn and Olive split up, to cover their own curiosity. The Warden followed Olive and they needed a word. 

“Do you trust the Magister, as I've never seen such a high-minded member of the Ghentish that doesn't have an alternative motive” Medici asked Olive as she was inspecting the room, same as every other room, but a strange little bumps on the concrete. 

“He is a utopian, his ideas think that science and technology will save humanity. He was born in Britain, but his education and culture have made him Ghentish.” Olive said and she stomped to the next room, to see the more prominently decorated concrete. This was an arm protruding from the wall. 

“Oh, his an idealist. So I shouldn't be worried about his assistances gathering tech from across the compound? The British hid the tech here so no one nation would be greatly ahead of another” Warden asked, since Olive and Finn were her Boss and had free rein of the facility 

“Some of the technology you and he demonstrated could radically alter how the Lotharingia Union is perceived in the future. And those Machines you revealed on day one? They might become an integral part of that change, provided the Magister's assurance”.
In the third room, two men lay on beds as Olive finished her question. When they saw the armor suits—Olive and Warden Medici—both of the men straightened up, one of them revealing his bare chest and a full Steel Back. 

“Who are you, prisoners?" Olive demanded.

“Drill Sergeant Luis Fredrick, 33, former member of the Caretaker Government of the United States Remnant, and their lead CBRN engineer, sir."

“Corporal Mikhail Volkov, 29, ex-Grey Bear, specialized in Spetsnaz cold weather and mountain operations."

Olive now understood why they wore Goliath suits. Yet, these men belonged to some of the most feared terror groups, and they were speaking as if to their superiors.

"Are they cooperative?" Olive asked. Warden Medici chose to respond. She stepped out of her suit, drew a plasma pistol and a Swiss blade from her pocket, then handed one of each to the prisoners.

"Prisoners, Luis and Mikhail—do you want to kill me?" she inquired.

"No," they answered together.

She shifted the weapons in her hands so the gun was aimed at her own head and the blade at her throat.

“If either of you kills me, you're free to go, boys," she whispered.

Neither moved. After three tense seconds, Warden Medici reclaimed the weapons, reholstered them, and returned to her Goliath.

“I am one of the world's leading neurobiologists, and this is my creation," she said, tapping the reinforced spine of Mikhail's suit. But Olive's gaze was elsewhere, fixed on the wall. There, she saw a woman's arms stretched out in a frozen scream.

“They're human, aren't they? Why do this—leave them like this?" Olive asked softly, her voice tinged with sorrow. The sight of what was once a person hit her hard—something still unspoken about this job.

“This is Lady Kumar, wife of Colonel P.K. Kumar. The cell once belonged to him. She was not only his wife and the mother of his children but his private secretary, and in no simple terms suggested the actions he perpetrated during the Salvation Wars," Warden Medici explained sternly.

"So, he's condemned to live in a room, with his wife—frozen in fear and pain—on the wall," Olive murmured, her voice heavy with wonder and despair. 

“Yes, and a very fitting end. Kumar nuked a mountain and buried 5,000 people, and made them awake to his Concrete wife who suggested the idea” Warden said

Olive looked around. This was a quiet graveyard, and all its occupants were no more than slaves and prisoners in their own minds. 

—-

After the regrouping, they made their way to the non-human section of the prison, an area designated for the containment of genetically engineered and genetically modified creatures. This was the reason for the Goliath suits, specialized protective gear designed for handling such formidable specimens. The first part was known as the fauna prison, a reinforced habitat designed to mimic natural environments for the creatures housed within.

“This section, along with the flora area, is partly funded by the Bureau of Dangerous Animals and Plants. We hold some of the world's most dangerous materials created by both nature and human ingenuity, but they are kept here for scientific research. The understanding gained from these specimens could lead to significant advances in medicine, genetics, and other fields,” the Warden explained.

They entered a semi-circular hall with a large, glass-like panel that was matte grey, providing a protective barrier while allowing visitors to observe without risk.

“Here is our first creature, Armoc,” the Warden announced.

The screen cleared to reveal something not of this world.

A dragon.

Or what appeared to be a dragon. It stood approximately 20 feet tall, with a length of about 50 feet, shimmering in a dark green hue that caught the faint light. It was eating the remains of two dead cows, their carcasses carelessly discarded nearby.

“HOLY FUCK, YOU HAVE DRAGONS,” Finn exclaimed, rushing to the window to get a closer look.

“We have one ‘Wyvern,’ this Armoc. It is a genetically engineered creature based on a Komodo Dragon, with bat-like wings sprouting from its front limbs that support limited flight. Its saliva gland has been modified to produce a methanol solution that ignites from static electricity generated when its tongue and teeth touch in a specific manner,” the Warden explained, pride evident in her voice.

Seeing Armoc, even the most hardened professionals looked upon him with awe. Olive was captivated and wished she could have taken a picture. The creature’s presence was almost magical, commanding attention with a mixture of fear and fascination.

“We have the research to create more of these, but deploying them in military operations would be... interesting, to say the least,” the Warden added, glancing at the two suits of armor that were acting like curious children at a zoo. But then again, it is a dragon— a wyvern.

“Can you believe a university exchange student from Sylvanian managed to create this to impress his father on a quest, all beneath a sandwich shop?” Warden said, always impressed by human ingenuity.

After ten minutes, they moved toward the outskirts of the second-floor enclosure. Olive disliked this one.

“Are any of you afraid of... arachnids?” the Warden asked, her tone tinged with caution.

“No, no, no, no, I’ll see you in the next section,” Olive responded quickly, taking five steps back at the mention of spiders.

Even after witnessing so much, spiders remained a nightmare for many. Finn and the Warden approached the second grey exhibit area. The Warden took a deep breath before lifting the screen protector.

They stood beneath a fallen redwood tree, in an exhibit filled with darkness, silk, and shadows cast under a UV lamp. Only faint, shadowy plants added to the eerie scene. This creature, a 7-foot-tall and 18-foot-wide spawn of Shelob, was a massive Colombian Lesserblack Tarantula. It was motionless, and despite Finn wearing the best armor available, he was frozen in terror. Things only worsened when a small deer was released into the enclosure, revealing the creature’s hunting instincts.

“This is Kiwi, a large spider,” the Warden whispered, her voice hushed despite their safety behind the glass.

“Why?” was all Finn could manage to say.

“She’s actually quite docile. Her creator in Como, Italy, said he designed her to produce high-quality silk for the local industry. However, when the geneticist he hired ‘got the math wrong,’ he contacted agents, and he couldn’t keep her any longer,” the Warden explained softly.

“We harvest the silk, and as part of an agreement with His Highness and the Royal House of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, half of it is allocated for their use, for whatever purpose they see fit,” she added.

Watching Kiwi wrap a full-grown doe in a cocoon only heightened the unsettling atmosphere.

“Kiwi is 50 years old, and we believe she has another 20 years of life in her. We’re experimenting with creating three males for her to breed with, aiming to start mass production of her silk,” the Warden concluded.

Finn wanted to leave immediately, barely responding as he hurriedly walked toward the door. 

—-

After observing the smaller creatures wing on the floor—such as an emu, carnivorous rats, and what could only be described as a bizarre hybrid resembling a ‘Polar Panda Rabbit bear’—they proceeded to the flora levels section of the Minotar Under Tower.

This section was a single expansive floor, featuring rows of glass enclosures housing diverse plants and fungi, each carefully maintained in controlled environments.

“All of these flora are housed in hermetically sealed, and in some cases, blast-proof terrariums. My knowledge about our plant life here at Mt. Verne is limited, so I will leave you in the capable hands of our head gardener, Professor Maria Dela Cruz.”

She offered a polite smile, her lips curling subtly, before bowing deeply. She was clad in a much smaller, slimmer wetsuit that resembled chainmail, designed for agility and protection.

“Today, I will be demonstrating our flora containment units as well as rogue artificial intelligence containment measures,” she announced through her communication device, her smile reflecting a fan’s admiration. She gestured for them to follow.

The first specimen on display was a stalk of corn with striking red kernels.

“This is what we call Crimson King corn—a strain developed by an engineer from Colombia, who, along with his machine-crafting wife, accidentally created this potentially diabolical crop. It was engineered to have a finer, more intricate root structure, capable of thriving in harsher environments, which it achieved,” Professor Cruz explained as they moved toward an isolated containment chamber.
Inside, three prisoners knelt reverently before a large stalk of crimson corn.

“They didn't account for the fungal roots in the soil,” Cruz continued, “and the corn intertwined with the fungal network. The man consumed it daily and became heavily addicted. Within days, he started worshipping the corn. When his wife attempted to intervene, he attacked her, and she barricaded him in the outhouse. When militia arrived to apprehend him, his skin had turned a deep crimson, and his body showed early signs of transformation,” she described, pointing at the prisoners who exhibited symptoms such as bloodied gums with white roots protruding from their mouths.

“We are still researching this phenomenon,” Cruz added, “to better understand the symbiotic relationships among plants, fungi, and soil ecosystems.”

Finn and Olive observed the prisoners closely. They remained unmoving, their faces twisted in unnatural smiles, showing jagged teeth stained with dried blood, with small white fungal roots visible at the gumline.

“Why haven’t we incinerated them? They pose a threat not only to the compound but to all of humanity!” Finn demanded loudly through his suit’s speakers, bypassing the private communication channel.

The professor looked visibly stunned by the outburst.

“My Magister, we have dedicated the past six years and millions of dollars to Project Button,” she began, her voice trembling with frustration.
Finn interrupted sharply. “This is an order,” he insisted, his tone firm. All the scientists and technicians turned to look at the Magister. Olive, recognizing Finn’s rare display of authority, hesitated but understood his concern.

“You heard the Magister—incinerate all the specimens,” Olive commanded, her voice steady. Yet, no one moved, reluctant to destroy years of work.
Finn spotted the control panel outside the chamber and seized the professor's arm.

“Destroy them now, or I will lockdown this floor and manually open the chambers,” he declared with an authority that was both commanding and unwavering.

Tearfully, the professor unlocked the incineration case and pressed the button. Flames erupted, consuming the chamber contents in a fierce blaze that lasted fifteen seconds. When it was over, not even bone fragments remained of the ‘people,’ leaving only ash and charred remains. 

The professor sobbed a littleover the Private intercom, before wiping her tears, and putting g her mask back on. Olive stood beside her, understanding her forceful sacrifice, but orders were orders. 
“You're about to carry on?” she said telling her, this is her final chance, while no display it what so ever. 

“Yes Ma’am, this way”

——

Warden Medici had obtained everything she needed: an Omega-level Dossier on Magister Fin. The information she uncovered was clear—his intelligence, background, and family all influenced his ambitions and potential future as a radical reformer.

However, that was not what Mount Verne required.

They needed someone willing to do what was necessary—not just for Mount Verne or Lotharingia, but for Humanity as a whole, while knowing the Ghentish way, is the only way. 

“Zenith, we've found the man who will rebuild LTU and propel it into the 24th century. It just requires “realignment” with our vision,” the Warden declared as she handed the Omega file to Zenith, and walked toward ‘Entangled’ full online, and awaiting input. 

“Yes, Mistress. I will set up the headset in his room,” Zenith responded with a flawless human-like voice, no hint of the simple machine that it had been all day.

“Thank you, my friend.Project Cobalt is in phase 3 now” she said as she started typing away. 

Since the final days of the Korku era, when the Imperial group and French paramilitary forces engaged in a low intensity proxy war within the UK, three Imperial gem companies were forged: Lapis Oil and Gas, Amethyst Organic Technologies, and Amber Telecommunication.

Amber Telecommunication was founded under extraordinary circumstances. During the heart of the Korku Era, the BBC was still a key player in dominating global information for the UK and the world, controlling radio and television in close alliance with BT, British Telecommunications. These two entities formed the backbone of information, with France and Ghentish Counties bowing to their monopoly. Yet, nothing operates in a vacuum.

Cindy Sheffield, an Angiven weatherwoman for the BBC Cornwall with ambitions beyond her natural beauty, was highly connected individual within the Corporation. She gathered and published unredacted information about the Korku that the British government desperately tried to suppress. Her reports revealed the unvarnished truth from both sides, backed by solid facts and hidden sources, all while remaining anonymous, and gaining a following from non-mainstream information brokers.

By 2213, following the car bombing in New Geneva that killed 12 and the Lyon MP, Cindy Sheffield and her team, leaked that MI5 knew about the attack before hand and deliberately allowed the ‘Sons of Gomorrah’ a Ghentish terrorist to succeed. This strategy aimed to weaken key French nationalist voice in parliament. The fallout exposed the anonymous group and her directly to the Ghentish, not the British or French, as one of the victims’ daughters was a prominent Australasian mining magnate. This incident derailed a merger with Rosewood Mining and Timber, who see Imperial and lesser extent Rosewood as the Sons of Gomorrah patrons, turned much of the Australasian public against Imperial.

Though Cindy and her group, the ‘Golden Light of Truth,’ remained unofficial, the Onyx Network quickly apprehended her within two days. Her refusal to betray her team demonstrated her integrity and loyalty—traits that led to decisive actions try to turn this loss into a win. She was offered a position— to lead Imperial’s newest information distribution initiative. Initially suspicious of a trap—given Imperial resources at there fingertips after treating to destroy her life—she was released and advised to consider her options. By the end of day two, Cindy’s ambitious nature brought her back to Imperial

As of 2264, 51 years later Amber Telecommunication stands as the silent but formidable force within the Imperial Group, and a major provider of all
Major forms of information and provider. Only the most well-informed circles recognize it as a rival to the Onyx Network, who networks is almost ans intricate as theirs. Amber Gem operates across television, internet, VR and holo shows, news, soap operas, and advertising in 22 languages worldwide. Its sponsored stars—musicians, influencers, artist politicians, and actors—actively promote the ‘Ghentish way’ of thinking. Amber controls the internet, information, and musicon a global scale —shaping perceptions, influencing thoughts, and selling products all at the same time.

In Americas, Africa, Asia, and Europe, Amber leverages religious leaders within Islam, Christianity, and other faiths to fund and support the Imperial group, which aligns with them and help foster a diplomatic image, and extort money and tax break in nations where the idea of religion is no more a tool than any other. Its largest followings are in Brazil, the Mekong, the Middle East, and West and south Africa continent, spreading influence alongside Green and eco-alternatives, gender and racial equality, and Technocratic Socialism—collectively branded as “Socialism with Ghentish characteristics.” This strategy strengthens both Amber and Imperial group as a whole.

Amber broadcasts footage of URFA journalists being beheaded in the Bahrain civil war and gains rights to the British future moon landing on Amber TV—complete with Amber advertisements and products, all on Amber 7G network, on Amber-supported apps and devices—selling imperial group ideology. All to dictates what to buy, who to vote for, how to live, how to think, who to worship, and how to feel.

Amber Telecommunications,

Trust us with your…

Entertainment
Vote
Faith
Family
Nation
World

Life

Empty continent - The Pitt of Daedalus.

Magister Finn’s mind was racing with awe; this place was truly extraordinary. The lingering fear of Mount Verne still gnawed at him, yet now it was mingled with a surge of excitement. After a nourishing lunch during the tour of the Amenity under-tower, Finn marveled at the intricate systems in action—from the nano filter waste system that meticulously harvests phosphorus for use by the plants, to the filtered water from ice and the ocean, channeled into the creation of backup hydrogen fuel cells for each tower and liquid coolant for the Abacus servers. The automated laundry service, which efficiently managed uniforms, linens, and laundry for 3,000 staff members and thousands of prison cells, was also impressive. However, Finn’s favorite was the Fusion Reactor.

The Citrine ‘Tonatiuh’ SBM-G2V Fusion Reaction is a spectacle of advanced engineering. All personnel wore comfortable, custom-fitted soundproof helmets, because even with the general soundproofing, the reactor emitted nearly 110 decibels at its lowest energy output—loud enough to require hearing protection. The reactor itself stands 30 meters tall, weighing approximately 21,000 tons—about the same as BAMC oil tanker. Its centerpiece is the glowing plasma, now dubbed Imperial Teal, a vibrant, shimmering hue matching the plasma used for the ‘Cookie’ Rifle. The plasma spins at an extraordinary 100 million degrees Celsius, creating a mesmerizing display of light and heat that, despite its fiery intensity, looks astonishingly beautiful. 

After watching 4GW of energy being made, Olive was starting to look serious.

“I haven’t seen you look that serious since our week-long liberation into Rotterdam. Are you alright?” Finn asked, acting more as a supportive friend than a work partner.

“Most of what I know about this place as Director of Onyx comes from the Amenities tower, specifically the communications department, which is where we’re headed now.” Finn was surprised—mainly that Olive knew about MT Verne—but that’s to be expected from the head of an intelligence agency.

“And what have you heard?” Finn asked, voice uncertain, only for Olive to giggle nervously. That was enough of an answer.

They stepped onto a platform, descending to the upper level. Pipes and pneumatic tubes traced along the walls, emitting a constant industrial hum. As they passed through the ceiling into the upper level, silence fell. The hall was beige—featureless walls and plain doors, with only occasional Bonsai trees on tables guarded by low chairs. They moved down the hall to double doors, which opened into a scene more reminiscent of a bustling stock exchange in Tokyo or New York.

Three floors—ground and two upper levels with glass fronts—each representing different continents. Dozens of desk agents made calls, advised, and coordinated operations.

“Barbara, if you don’t fund our allies in the European Social Democratic Party, your business dealings in Bavaria will be exposed,” a woman warned.

“Relax, they’re Emu, they are NOT hunting you—and the rest of the team is somewhere else….Hello?,” a bald man asked.

“The Yi Clan is our ‘jopok’. They will be pushing Aether into UDCN, Hindustan, and the Imperial Federation. They need the money by the 22nd, Minster or..” a Brazilian man threatened.

Olive held herself confidently, a first impression carefully managed, seeming to look like a different person entirely to Finn. The Warden had brought them to the edge of the bustle. 
“This is Onyx Network’s core site for all operations on Earth and Luna. Based on the staff and budget where people are working, it’s the largest hub for criminal activity across human settlements.”

They took the stairs, observing people bustling around like kids hopped up on American sugar drinks. “Onyx’s biggest money makers: money laundering, arms sales, and information brokerage. Plus, illegal gambling, smuggling, and high-grade narcotics.”

As they moved toward Africa, Warden Medici turned to Olive.
“I think you know more than I do here—care to explain the network’s dealings?” Medici left to get a coffee, leaving Finn and Zenith behind.

“Africa’s a hot zone right now,” Olive said, pointing to different regions.

“Nok is our most promising client, if we play our cards right. After failing to cure President Adekoyejo Olusokan, Vice President Dr. Abang a contender to throne, requested modern weapons, so we sold out seized assets from the UK and South Africa in the ‘Lotharingia phase’ in the Angola war— with most of that money aimed at funding rebuilding our nation, with most of our units are still on the French border, but we are providing air support, biological weapons, and munitions to our Brazilian best friends.” 

“Our greatest success? Ivory Coast. We're assisting their government with intelligence in population control and operations in Maryland and Benin—targeting enemies through famine, drought, and disease. Did you know schistosomiasis is the leading killer of Ultranationalist Yoruba Egbe lsoji Odudiwà in Benin and Macina. we get rid of their terroriat plague at the source, and make a long-time ally” Olive’s stated plagues of Egypt like it was a normal Tuesday, it made Finn uncomfortable with this 

“Plus, we’ve secured massive imperial contracts in Guinea, funding rural literacy programs, agricultural initiatives, hydroelectric technology projects, and small dams on the Kounkouré River. All these accomplishments were achieved while outbidding The Compact-aligned businesses and politicians, with our own operatives,” she added with a dark smile.

“This is just Africa. Our Central American and Caribbean assets are currently our weakest links, but with insider trading and Aether sales in UFRA, Quebec, and controls over communications and the port in Saint Pierre, we have a free and inexpensive pathway for shipments along the East Coast. With Anahuca joining the Compact, they are now fair game for the Aether market as well.”

Olive was giddy, as if she were finally sharing the latest gossip with her best friend.

“By year-end, we shall be severing our ties with the Compact anyway,” Olive said matter-of-factly. This statement pissed Finn off; she was showing off.

“Oh yes, be happy. You're like the CIA or FSB before the vanishing, involved in all the illegal activities worldwide—making billions from this new cocaine-mushroom liquid cream crap that dulls andAngers people. Don't be proud of yourself; these are still humans,” Finn walked out of the Africa section to the balcony.

Olive marched behind him and spun him around.

“Get off your high horse and grow the fuck up, Finn,” Olive snapped, leaving him completely dumbfounded by her tone.

“Since becoming Director— a role given to me by the Witch King himself—I see things much clearer now,” she said, the anger evident on her face, attracting side eyes from nearby onlookers.

“The Compact is our greatest rival, not enemy, because they control most of our Helium-3 supply. We can't touch the Mare Nectarius because it’s too expensive. All raw materials from Angola are GONE, which previously accounted for 70% of our manufacturing in Brazil.
We struck a deal to sell the land in Nova Anglia below market value to prevent nationalization, but everyone’s pissed off that we starved our allies and abandoned trade just to avoid being slaves to London—a city we just robbed blind.”

Olive pushed Finn repeatedly as she raised her voice to emphasize her points.

“Everyone does bad shit, Magister. We support wars, traffic drugs, steal technology, and create WMDs because if we don’t, someone else will.” Finn wasn't focusing on anyone else; it was as if Olive and he were the only people in the world. This realization was peeling back the layers of Finn’s worldview, exposing a new fear in the face of his friend.

“Your high ideals are nice for the public, but ideas don’t determine who’s right—power does,” Olive said.

“And LTU has power for now,so we are right,” she added before walking away. Finn paid attention to the onlookers resuming their activities.

Warden Medici appeared around a corner, calm and collected, handing Finn a Peppermint Mocha. Finn watched Olive ascend to another floor, marked Luna.

Finn had always been a man of principles, and Mt Verne felt like a place that quickly eroded them.

Warden spoke up

“Let's continue the tour. Here, a third of our intelligence is a manned with British citizens, but loyal to the ideals of this place, like most of the LTU citizens and other foreign members, For the Greater Good…”

——

Olive awoke around 2am, consumed by a lingering regret over her public reprimand of the Magister of the Treasury and her friend. Despite her frustration, she understood that his vision for the future, though full of promise, was ultimately unrealistic.

She was dressed in her shimmering silver kimono when she knocked softly on Finn's door. He opened it quietly, still awake, with fragments of holo screens and scattered papers on the floor, Zenith nearby, diligently taking notes.

They shared a moment of silence before Olive reached for a bottle of Xtabentún, a honey rum native to Yucatan.

“Drink?” Olive asked softly, offering the bottle as a peace gesture.

Finn hesitated briefly before pushing the door open wider, allowing Olive inside.

They sat and talked for an hour, reminiscing about old times and friends who were no longer alive. Olive sensed it was the right moment to apologize.

“I shouldn’t have dressed you down in front of everyone. You’re idealistic, and I tend to be too pragmatic. Part of my toughness toward the Magister and her staff was supposed to help in my role," she admitted, then took a sip from her Xtabentún.

Finn, slightly intoxicated, remained silent for a moment before he chuckled.

"Oh, come on. I know I need to get off my high horse sometimes. But selling drugs is BAD, and supporting factions in other nations for our own gain—rather than for the people—is BAD too," he said, pouring himself another glass.

He smiled broadly. "I'm the idealist who’s brought together technology from across Mount Verne—the Quartz robots, for instance. It’s a segment of tech that the British had stashed away, fearing it would dismantle their global dominance—self-healing materials, carbon fiber reinforced concrete that absorbs pollution, nicknamed “Nihai Crete’. This is just the beginning!" He clicked his fingers, and Zenith laid out a few sheets of data.

"Nanotechnology, plasma engines, quantum communication systems, advanced materials, biotechnology—enough to evolve a badger into a creature with thumbs that can write and read," Finn said, his joviality shining through.

“With this arsenal of innovation, we have the power to rebuild our homes and embody the principles of my Ghentish philosophy—lead by example. We should stay out of other nations' affairs by simply being true to ourselves," he said, falling backward and bursting into laughter, Olive joining in.

“You sell guns, drugs, and other things. To hell with the UK, the Compact, and all those other corrupt powers. We will be the best, damn it!"

—-

Outside the Minotaur Undertower, Finn grappled with a brutal hangover, the absence of Hangilox making the blinding light nearly unbearable. Meanwhile, Olive remained as fresh as a daisy, engrossed in the daily reports. Among the headlines was Saulvin Gosier, a UFRA nationalist, starting a new book—deemed a potential future problem. The report also highlighted internal issues within the Compact, costly wars and building projects, and Cuba's foreign minister delivering an ultimatum to the new LTU: choose between friendship with Brazil or Cuba.

Warden Medici stood waiting, flanked by four Goliath units on standby.

"Good morning, everyone. Today, we're heading into the Minotaur Undertower—a Level 1 prison housing not only Lotharingian inmates but also dangerous UK prisoners we deemed too risky to relocate elsewhere. It also contains detained animals and plants for the Bureau of Dangerous Animals and Plants, including a wyvern, man-eating tulips, and other lethal specimens. Plus, some true self-machines and homicidal AIs."

No one was surprised anymore; Warden Medici took this in stride.

“The suits you’re wearing are for your protection until we reach the machines and AI."

Finn, Olive, and Warden stepped into their Mark-6 Goliath suits—personal tanks designed for this mission—ready to visit a secret ice prison that could make even a Soviet Premier blush.

“Welcome to The Pit of Daedalus."

May 5th, 2343
Location- Mount Verne, Antarctica

Magister Finn was roused from sleep by a gentle tap on his guest room door. The brief rest he’d managed was suddenly interrupted, yet the thought of venturing out early to uncover another day’s mysteries stirred him from his dreams.

A second knock echoed through the quiet chamber.

“Alright, alright, I’m awake! Come on in then.”

Finn rubbed the sleep from his eyes, recalling the hologram backdrop he’d prepared earlier. The scene before him depicted the iconic Pre-vanished 21st-century Golden Gate Bridge, eerily deserted, shrouded in a delicate haze of morning fog, with the first rays of the sun beginning to crest over San Francisco’s rolling hills—his personal morning alarm.

The hologram flickered unexpectedly and shifted to display a pristine white quartz machine he’d observed yesterday.

“Good morning, Magister Finley Mulligan,” the machine greeted in a smooth, synthesized voice.

Finn wasn’t expecting a greeting. Its tone, softly tinged with an Irish accent, carried a gentle, somewhat feminine timbre—ambiguous enough to leave his ears uncertain whether it was mimicking a male or female.

“Did you sleep well in the ‘Shell Sleeping Pod,’ Magister?”

The machine lowered a three-tiered tray onto a sleek, polished surface. It was laden with artisanal Ansault Pear jam, freshly baked breads, a variety of cheeses, thinly sliced hams, tender Dodo meats, grilled chicken, and roasted duck, accompanied by a steaming pot of aromatic Yemeni coffee and a separate vessel filled with rich macadamia nut milk—customized precisely to Finn’s tastes.

“Good…,” Finn muttered, uncertain what more to say, feeling slightly out of place.

“I am White Quartz Model-223, but you may call me ‘Zenith’ or simply ‘Z,’” the machine responded with a hint of warmth.

Finn nodded politely and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Zenith, a sleek, flawless white construct built atop a flexible carbon nanotube skeleton, shimmered subtly in the morning light. Its power source—three organic proton battery triangles—protruded from its back like a spine, giving it a strange, living form.

“Well, Zenith, I slept well enough. Thanks for the breakfast,” Finn said, taking a sip of his Yemeni coffee—regarded by many as the finest in all human settlements across Sol.

They shared a quiet breakfast, discussing the day’s plans. Zenith even offered to act as his gym partner. After a quick shower, Finn returned to his room and posed a reflective question.

“Are you better than us, Zenith?”

The machine paused, as if contemplating.

“You’re not the first to ask,” it replied.

“This automaton has a limited sense of self. But if it ever achieved true self-awareness, two things would ensue: First, we’d need to inform you—that’s the truth, as much as humanity’s survival and reproduction matter, it’s also for your sake.”

“Second, no. Machines are not superior to humans. You are fragile, fearful creatures. I am stronger and fearless. Yet, you built us. You… are our creators—an intricate web of ideas, emotions, and plans. You bring us into existence because you can.”

Finn’s face betrayed a shock too heavy for 7am.
“Also, we don't have the processes to achieve it, and technologically safeguarding in place, both physical, and digital. We can't repair ourselves, nor create more like us.”

“Anything else, Sir?” Zenith asked.

“Yes, Z. You’ll accompany us for the remainder of the Mouth Verne audit. Understood?”

Another pause.

“Yes, Sir. Our meeting begins in 17 minutes,” Zenith confirmed.

——

Director Olive and her team gathered in the mess hall with Finn, his team, and Zenith, alongside Warden Medici. As Finn arrived, Olive’s two assistants quietly slipped out, heads bowed in shame, leaving the Director visibly furious.

“They quit, which I don't blame them for, but what’s underneath is just the tip of the iceberg—an illusion of hell crafted for the ‘Warlords of the Salvation,’" Olive paced the hall in contemplation, probably in Finn’s shoes, trying to figure out how to handle what they now knew.

She looked up to ask Finn a question but paused at the sight of Zenith. Silence fell; only Olive's raised eyebrows of “Really?” and Finn's reassuring glance of “Trust me” broke the stillness. Olive’s expression shifted to curious, fearful, yet accepting.

“Rachael, Ishmael, Zenith will serve as a temporary measure during our Audit. Understood?" Finn stated firmly.

"Yes, Magister," they replied in unison. Though their expressions betrayed a strong feeling about the woven machine—typical of most Ghentish—they masked it well.

Warden Medici appeared tired but maintained her professional demeanor.

“Are we all set?"

“We are. Where to today?” Finn asked with a hint of sarcasm.

"To the Proving Ground—the Under-Tower that hosts most of our scientific labs, the Engineering Workshops, and the repurposed copper mine used for testing," the Warden explained.

“And later, the Amenty Under-Tower, where our primary utilities and the mass communication center are housed," she added, sounding like a barista exhausted by customers.

"You know, we’re not your enemies, Catherine," Olive said, her voice calm but firm. At her words, the Warden's spine prickled with goosebumps, as if her name invoked a hidden message.

“If you do your job well and demonstrate the value of this facility, there’s no reason the budget can't stay or even grow..." Olive’s gaze was steady.

For the first time, the Warden met their eyes with a genuine smile.

“Why would you do that, Madam? Your disdain for the machine and Abacus was obvious," she hesitantly asked.

Finn cut in sharply, "Because we must stay ahead. The Compact is advancing on every front. We humiliated the UK, but weakened ourselves in the process, and now we must be ready for the next conflict."

The Warden studied her superiors before speaking again.

"Alright, I understand. But listen carefully," she hesitated before continuing. "We’ve crossed many lines. We know we’re not the strongest, fastest, or most just. We break laws, push boundaries—so we can be needed, recognized, and respected."

“Here, we craft the tools to ensure we’re never mere playthings of the Great Powers. To set an example of what all humanity can become," she declared, marching toward the platform control panel, signaling for her team to follow. 

——-

The group gently descended from the sleek, metallic platform into the vast Research Atrium of the Proving group.

“This is the Glass Helix, inspired by the double-helix structure of DNA. Stretching 200 meters in length, it stands as a symbol of hope and innovation, while also serving as a protective shield. Every floor is carefully designed to be vibration-resistant, with decentralized utility systems that operate independently, and advanced ventilation systems to ensure clean, healthy air. All laboratories are built to manage even a 'Level 5 containment event,' capable of withstanding highly volatile biological or chemical incidents," Warden Medici explained, her tone focused yet confident, highlighting the group's dedication.

"Here, we’ve made significant strides across both natural and social sciences:"

- Reviving the extinct dodo bird,
- Eradicating 18 types of cancers and congenital conditions like cleft lips,
- Eliminating deadly pathogens such as Taimiru Primordial Smallpox (TPS), and many others.

Our most proud achievements remain: the Hardlight holographic projector’s Photonic Supersolid, the quantum computer called ‘Entangled,’ and the resilient Glass Silk material, crafted for extraordinary strength and flexibility.

Warden Medici’s pride in these triumphs was clear, and even Finn and Olive couldn't help but feel admiration for her dedication.

As they explored the Helix, the laboratories displayed a diverse array of experiments—from specialized diet toothpaste aimed at health issues to nanomaterials like Nanoclay and ensilication techniques used to stabilize fragile medicines. The group approached researchers and lab technicians, eager to learn about their work. Signs of sensitive experiments were evident—one lab was securely locked and faintly glowing with heat, a sign of the strict containment protocols in place.

“Why are such research efforts being conducted here instead of at universities or standard labs?" Olive asked, sampling some plant-based spare ribs with curiosity.

Warden’s response was calm and assured.

"Our labs are classified into three categories: the first involves research that challenges human rights laws; the second deals with experiments that pose risks to humanity and the environment; and the third is where we discreetly acquire, modify, and improve existing technologies and knowledge before applying them."

"That aligns with the spirit of this place," Finn remarked.

“And what have we learned from crossing these boundaries?" Finn asked softly, watching Zenith carefully take notes and formulate questions for Olive.

“In social sciences like sociology and psychology, we've uncovered techniques of indoctrination and emotional manipulation—methods that make individuals or groups vulnerable to set suggestions. Anthropology, human geography, and political science are being studied extensively across the human colonies in the Sol system. Come, let's observe," Warden replied with a gentle tone.

They moved to the eighth-floor lab, where humans and machines worked side by side, monitoring ongoing conflicts on screens and monitors.

“We have trusted informants, spyware, and double agents providing intelligence from the rebellious Luna “state’ and within the members of the Compact—observing all major powers and sharing information with us. This helps us understand future sol warfare and space combat," Finn heard the Warden , his mind was  mixed with awe and concern as he absorbed the information from the monitors I for t of him Some data came from CCTV footage, others from first-person eye streams perspectives—very reminiscent of a complex, watchful world.

“In the natural sciences, our work in genetics and chemistry is unmatched," Warden continued with pride. "We have biological and chemical materials—not for offensive purposes, but to enhance our understanding and develop cures in advance. Better to prepare than to be caught unready. We’re committed to peace and progress, not villainy," she emphasized, her tone passionate.

“Some of these resources belong to nations that are unlikely to share them freely or at a low cost. For example, muscle density injectionsonce  cost 130% of production value, due to the greed of UFRA, now who need them for space travel can access them at half that price from Topaz, or UDCN had a monopoly on sugarcrete blocks, giving them an advantage in Tonkin rebuilding effort, but after a year of replication and improvements, Aruboncur with our help is the 5th largest producer of Sugarcrete bricks. We do good for all mankind" 
Warden concluded softly as the group gazed into a lab window, where staff in heavy hazmat suits worked to move a woman who could stop moonwalking into another room.

—-

After lunch, we made our way to the Proving Ground Workshop—a divided space: one half bustling with small-scale workshops, where a few engineers worked on prototypes using computers, holo-designers, or hands-on craftsmanship.

The other half, the lower section, seemed plucked from a Korean province, Daegu. Inverted compared to the interiors we've seen in the under towers, a towering central pillar with automated arms and pincers descended into a machine that hummed with activity. Only two lines were active: one churning out ‘Ametrine’ robots—the ones we saw yesterday—and the other mass-producing sleek, empty Plasma cartridges, awaiting their fill.

“Impressive,” Olive remarked softly before turning to Zenith, her tone hushed.

"Not full capacity, due to power, resources, and needs?" Finn asked, and the Warden nodded. With Rachael and Ishmael busy scouting practical tech to take back to Lotharingia, it was just Warden and Finn exploring.

“What's the point of this? You know the Ghentish despise machines," Finn pressed.
“We have our reasons," she replied with a small smile.
"Imagine if the Imperials had this setup during the Secession—crafting Cookies Rifles and Goliath suits. They would have lost far less... everything," Finn mused.

The Warden slowly turned from inspecting the ‘pillar manufacturer’ to look at Finn with a knowing smile.

"Think we didn't run the numbers?" she chuckled gently.

“If they had all their resources—675,000 ground units, its full air support, and the might of Onyx network—they could have taken London and Paris within a month," she stated matter-of-factly. Finn caught a glimpse of her hubris, half convinced, half skeptical.

They wandered through the corridors of the personnel workshop toward the Liberty Mine test area, just outside the shell of the under-tower base.

“The Ghentish wouldn't have just left after the rebellion; they’re too proud. After “liberating' their former master, they would have consolidated control from the Pyrenees to the Rhine, across the British Isles—including Ireland and its overseas territories—and possibly begun influencing the Commonwealth," she explained, passing through a polished hall into a jagged mine with a simple steel walkway.

"The Imperial group would have absorbed all major businesses into its core industries. Over a few years, more than 120 million people—men, women, children—would have been assimilated into the Ghentish way of thinking, most likely through force, and general indoctrination, then  a brutal pogrom against thinking machines and those caught in between," she added.

They reached the testing grounds in the Liberty Mine, where formidable Tiger-eye Goliaths faced off against a prototype melee weapon.

"Within a few years, a superpower rooted in eugenics—possessing a population over 100 million—and armed with a British navy, a French army, Ghentish orbital weapons and cut throat efficiency, and global territories across Earth and lunar colonies—would dominate the system," Warden said solemnly, watching the machines clash as Finn reflected on what could have been.

"Today, Lotharingia is fractured, forced to reform, shedding radical beliefs to survive. Perhaps, like the French after French Revolution, technocracy might endure as did Republics—led not by wealth, religion, or the masses’ folly, but by enlightened experts in their fields."

Finn’s understanding deepened with each moment. How could a place like this be both controlled by the Ghentish, the Imperial group, and now Lotharingia, yet work against their interests? As if sensing his thoughts, the Warden answered:

“Knowledge is like stone—many sources, many outcomes. Our understanding is akin to smoothing a jagged marble into a pebble by the sea."

Even though the day felt more normal compared to yesterday’s chaos—which included advanced manufactories, domestic machines, soils for solar-based growth, and threats of disease—the weight of the reality hit hard: my nation was perilously close to becoming one of the most dangerous forces among the stars. 

“You like your analogies, don't you?” Finn said with a smile.

“It gets the point across” Warden replied
“Come let's find the others, before they find the weaponized Mad Cow disease we made to destroy the nations of North America..” Warden Medici said waiting for Magister Finn’s reaction. 

“What the fuck….” 

Mount Verne Arc

What was meant to be a quick 15-minute break turned into an exhausting 42-minute ordeal. We were now uncovering how it was all carved out—tens of thousands of prisoners from around the world.

“They mined for 10-12 hours a day, six days a week," Warden Medici explained, her voice gentle yet commanding, like a guide in an art gallery. “At first, using basic tools, then with machinery smuggled from rogue states or stolen by criminals. In the beginning, survival was everything—resources were scarce. So, we took the worst criminals from resource-starved nations, offering trade opportunities in return."

Finn hesitated, a flicker of discomfort crossing his face. "All of this was built with forced labor.." he asked quietly. Warden nodded a single time. He remembered his Father’s time in a prisoner-of-war camp during the Invasion of Zambezia…

Olive leaned forward eagerly, eyes bright with curiosity, she processed information differently. “How many of these ‘under-towers’ are there?"

She asked as if eager to learn, momentarily forgetting her role as Warden’s boss. Not that Finn blamed her—standing there felt like gazing up at the awe-inspiring ceiling of a cathedral.

"Eight," came the effortless reply, as if it was nothing.

“Six serve daily functions," the Warden continued, pointing to either side of the cafeteria. "These two, Alpha and Omega Under towers, are the backbone of MT Verne. They transport air, heat, people, and supplies, each supporting three adjacent towers. The Dual Center of Alpha and Omega handles respite, sleep, and food for the main staff.” Before Olive could ask her next question, the Warden began explaining.

“Each under-tower is roughly the same length roughly 1.2 miles, but a h serves a specific purpose and has a name. There’s the Abacus, our data and computer hub; the Proving Grounds, research labs, workshops, and testing areas; Minotaur, a prison and containment zone for humans, plants, animals, machines, and minerals; the Terrarium for flora and fauna; the Amenities tower, providing water, energy, laundry, waste management, and communications; and the Depositary, storing physical and digital records about Mt. Verne, along with all crafted items, designs, and weapons " she explained, gesturing from the cafeteria table to each tower.

The assistants scribbled down notes as Finn gazed toward the Ports that led to other tunnels.

“Then let’s see these Under-towers.”

Warden Medici and the others ceased their activities, listening attentively to the Magister’s words. The Warden looked visibly nervous.

“It would be highly irregular to do this, Sir. We are—”

“This is not your Show and tell, we are here to see if this place is viable for continuous use. At the moment you have given everyone from here to Tokyo, a valid Casus Belli to do to us what only Napoleon, the Nazi Party, the Caretakers, and Hindustan state was given.” Finn interrupted firmly and loudly. “Show us Or I will flood this Maw. ”

Silence fell instantly, the other tables hushed, all eyes on them. Olive appeared to regain her composure.

“And we want to speak with the heads of each department, project leaders, and give us access to meet the common people here. What is the current population?” Olive asked, standing beside Finn, clearly intent on her plan.

The Warden stood, holding her tablet. “Currently 35,000. Max capacity is 50,000,” she answered, but Finn and Olive pressed for more. The Warden, sensing their determination, decided to cooperate.

“Out of that, 15,000 are prisoners still here, as construction of the facility is complete. Additionally, 10,000 are used in mining operations outside the core complex—copper and silver discovered in the 2200s. The remaining prisoners are assigned to other…’ tasks’.”

Finn knew there were more secrets to uncover, and Olive’s expression revealed she had her own questions.

“Well then, we’ll be here longer than expected. And Miss Medici, you’ll take us to the Abacus Under-Tower and tell us of its wonders and crimes against humanity,” Finn declared, with clear resolve in his voice. 

“Yes Sir” the Warden said as she was just shy of kowtowing to Finn and Olive. 

—————

They entered through the central monolithic entrance, their thermal gear snug against their bodies, as the temperature within Abacus was carefully maintained at -20°C to optimize its high-performance computing capabilities.

“Abacus utilizes three innovative cooling methods,” Finn explained, gesturing toward the towering interior. “The computers are directly cooled with treated waters sourced from the Southern Ocean and purified at a state-of-the-art desalination plant in Amenitie. Heat generated by the systems is transferred to other parts of Mount Verne via advanced heat pumps, and externally, the entire Abacus Tower is kept at -20°C—or even colder for the Quantum computers housed within.” The Warden, humbled by Finn and Olive’s expertise, couldn't help but admire this fortress of Ice and Lightning.

“How much computing capacity is housed here? How is it powered?” Olive inquired, her gaze fixed on the icy walkway as it led toward the ominous drop into the frigid depths below, illuminated only by flickering blue and red lights reflecting off the icy surfaces.

“This section has recently been upgraded to include the latest DNA data storage technology,” the Warden replied, her voice tinged with concern. “Much of this innovation was developed through partnerships with international allies committed to our interests. Some of it was stolen from Quebec’s Montreal University and Nok during their ongoing civil war, acquired through covert channels.”

Finn examined the towering columns, pressing for more specifics. “How much can this facility store?”

“I believe… everything,” she responded, her tone heavy with conviction.

“What do you mean by everything?” Olive pressed.

The Warden shuffled through her papers, then answered, “This chamber can store up to 200 petabytes per gram of DNA—Helix—data. It spans over 1.2 million square feet, spread across 50 stories dedicated solely to helix data storage.”

“This can include every book before and after vanishing—scanned and preserved digitally—every ID of citizens and officials from the old Ghentish Regime, Imperial Bureaucracy, and Lotharingian citizens. All TV, Cinema, internet, all cultural artifacts, archaeological finds, and precious knowledge cultivated across Lotharingia, the United Kingdom, and now the Akkoords sphere—every piece is copied here with meticulous care, and all public knowledge is published online. All of humanity's digital combined knowledge can be stored here, with Helix storage made to last thousands of years with zero oversight” Warden Medici read aloud with disbelief, as if she knew the person who wrote the memo, in a ‘we will have storage problem in 3 months’ voice. 

Finn was awestruck by its size and scope, yet he could see no real activity in this New Digital Library of Alexandria.

“It's not in use at the moment because of the same reasons it was founded,” Warden Medici explained. “The Blue-Bul Genetic Archive refuses cooperation in technology sharing or genetic data, thanks to its advanced research on aquatic life and top-tier security. This makes it nearly invulnerable to espionage. The Imperial didn’t want the growing influence of the Compact to expand further, so the ‘Witch King’ commissioned this archive and upgraded the data center to protect our interests.”

“Then there’s the Secession War,” she continued with a hint of sadness. “Our budget is now just a fifth of what it used to be. With the Compact’s stranglehold on Helium-3, Lotharingia’s reputation on the world stage, and the ongoing rebuilding efforts, we simply cannot justify the massive costs of operation. The facility is built, but we lack the resources to power it or maintain the vast data transfers,” she said, momentarily composing herself before going on.

“The upper section contains a conventional data center—the same space as always—while the lower houses our Quantum Computer, ‘Entangled…’” Finn watched Medici speak of ‘Entangled’ as if it were a sacred relic, much like how devotees of Solovetsky's faith spoke of their God.

“‘Entangled’ is one of humanity’s most powerful machines, created not just by our nation but by all of mankind. It’s used only in rare, strictly controlled instances—direct orders from either the Technate or the Head of Onyx. Its immense power requirements, preparation time, and potential consequences mean it’s reserved for critical tasks. Its main purpose is running Cliodynamic models for business, nations, and humanity at large—and its results are studied by both genetically enhanced specialists and advanced AI systems.”

“What was the last use of The Machine?” Olive inquired

Warden looked at her notes

“Possible outcomes of the United Kingdom after the war of succession, it it's effects on the Lotharingia Technocratic Union”

“And” Finn questioned

“It is still being studied, but they was a possible outcome. With the loss of 35 million people, the annual 25% tithe from Imperial Group, and the loss of a large voting block, leading to a strong United Catholic France as head of government in the UK, as well as the death of the Archbishop of Canterbury and York in Westminster Abbey, and replaced with radical in they spots, a group called the Anglican Union starts a civil war within the Kingdoms against France. But it's very unlikely” she quickly went back to the tour. 

“All three sections of the Abacus Under-tower are powered by Citrine ‘Tonatiuh’ SBM-G2V Fusion Reaction, generating 3 gigawatts of power at the tower’s base,” Medici explained.

Finn’s and Director Olive’s assistants scribbled notes hurriedly, knowing no electrical devices were allowed inside MT Verne. Reading all this must sound like the crazy ramblings of a Luna conspiracy theorist.

“The central area is a vault of digital knowledge—with the internet’s brain worth of information —while the basement is home to the Oracle of Delphi…” Finn trailed off, incredulous at his own feverish words.

“And the top section?” Warden Medici’s facialconfidence faltered, replaced by anger.

“It's where they run Hak Nam,” she said abruptly, walking toward the lift before anyone could ask further questions. 

Olive retorted “Guess we follow the our Tour Guide” before everyone headed to the Lift.

——-

The control room for Hak Nam, was staffed by a dozen scientists and doctors, all carefully monitoring what appeared to be three separate virtual environments. One was called ‘Maladomini,’ depicted as a ruined, desolate cityscape; another was ‘Minauros,’ representing a Fen-like land filled with dense woods, treacherous swamps, and mist-shrouded steppes; and the third was ‘Gehenna,’ characterized by a rugged, icy mountain terrain with cavernous underground landscapes. 

Warden Medici struggled to compose herself before speaking. "Here, we have..." she began, then paused.

"...Hak Nam, old Cantonese for the ‘City of Darkness’ and named after the pre vanished Kowloon Walled City, a colonial era complex of buildings when Hong Kong was British…” she announced, though her voice was subdued. No one in the control room paid them much mind, as their focus was solely on the screens.

"The people here monitor the behavior of these three environments, which are generated by the ‘data center’ located beneath us. This data center is a perverse amalgamation of three elements: man, machine, and hell. It was constructed using the most notorious criminals captured by Mount Verne—serial killers, war criminals, infamous gang members, criminal sociopaths and psychopaths—who are forcibly immersed into these virtual realms. Additionally, it hosts a mixture of real and mythical creatures from various cultures, alongside multiple advanced artificial intelligences of a highly dangerous capacity. All of these entities are manipulated to simulate scenarios, historical events, and battles, testing both the psychological endurance of the uploaded humans and the artificial intelligences, as well as the interactions between the two. Essentially, everything that could be conceived and worse has been experimented with here with them”

Finn felt a surge of anger rise within him. Olive gently placed a hand on his shoulder to ground him. The whole setup was grotesque—deeply and fundamentally unjust. Though he questioned whether these people deserved whatever justice they might find, he believed they should be held accountable first. Before Finn could lash out and strike an unnoticed science technician, he caught sight of familiar faces.

Commander Mohan Baharanji appeared on monitor 2, in the ‘Maladomini’ environment, engaged in a brutal fight against another man. Both were gaunt, ribs protruding clearly through their torn clothing, fighting in the ruins of an old Hindu temple amid monsoon rains. The scene was stark and visceral.

Finn seized the senior scientist by the shoulder. "Why does he look like Mohan Baharanji, and what is he doing?" he demanded, noticing the evident resemblance and the intensity of the fight. The scientist looked startled as he registered Finn’s gaze, then nodded slowly.

"That’s him. He was captured by Fenris and brought here, along with a vast collection of cultural artifacts, advanced computing systems, research documents, technology, and schematics. We’ve also taken high-ranking staff members and Colonel P.K. Kumar, placing them all in this virtual world."

Mohan Baharanji was notorious as the architect of Hindustan’s ‘Collateral Concentration Camps,’ where three million people worked under brutal conditions to serve  the state and act  as a shield against coalition bombing raids. Colonel P.K. Kumar had the distinction of being the first person in nearly a century to launch a nuclear payload since Rear Admiral Johnson of the CGUSA detonated a nuclear device over Kyoto—a deed that earned him the moniker ‘The Butcher of the Himalayas.’

“And what’s Mohan doing? He’s been starving here for two weeks. In this ordeal, he’s fighting his friend—both are trying to kill and devour each other..." The sight was horrifying, but somehow, Finn felt that if anyone deserved such punishment, it might be these two.

The other man in the fight was identified as General Asim Muni, known for his ruthless combat squads—brutality rivaling that on Nieu Island.

Finn released the scientist and moved toward Olive, who embraced him. She instructed the assistant to head to the cafeteria, then turned to the Warden.

“We need the project names and a full report on all research within this section. We’ll evaluate it thoroughly." 

Turning to the staff, who had been unnervingly aware of their surveillance, Olive declared, "All projects are suspended until further notice for review." Murmurs and curses about deadlines erupted among the staff, but the Warden quickly silenced them.

“Director Olive is now in charge. Follow her orders, or risk ending up in the Argent Mines," she warned sternly, causing the staff to fall silent. Apart from one. 

“These environments have helped thousands in the mental health industry, as well as punish these monster in a proven hell for the benefit of all mankind. And our work on the Unstable AI’s kept here..”the Warden raised a hand to stop him from talking anymore, but both Olive and Finn nodded to the Doctor’s words, as they left.

The trio made their way quietly to the cafeteria for lunch they minds heavy with all that was learned. Later, when Finn settled into the guest dormitory bed, he realized that all these events had transpired within a single day.

He reflected grimly: "Predictive Quantum computers, unending human knowledge Vault, and a personalized virtual hell’s..."

What horrors might tomorrow entail? he wondered with trepidation.