Soldiers of the Metaverse Story
The Twins
Two weeks earlier
The old European continent has been one of the most ravaged by the endless wars. Its high-density population and cosmopolitan makeup made it especially prone to divisiveness and unsurprisingly turned it into a global epicenter of conflict as it has been for centuries before. Decades of corpo wars, followed by EDEN’s onslaught turned most of its population centers to dust with but two exceptions. The sub-mountainous twin cities of Lisdrid and Romaris governed by Victor and Hector Scarfo, the self-proclaimed cyborg twin brother regents of the duo-polis and the extended Mediterranean sludge basin managed to not only escape the apocalypse but benefit from it. The twin cities stood tall for centuries with golden spires rising far above the ground. They were connected by the longest sky bridge ever constructed long before the tunnel had to be dug. The cities were still magnificent and sprawled hundreds of kilometers but all surface structures have long been lost.
The Scarfo brothers were veterans of the “scrap wars” with extensive ties to the military giants as well as prominent members of the underworld family. Together, they commanded respect across large swaths of the fractured cyborg populace. Together, they were a force to be reckoned with. Together they were the last remaining threat in Europe to the AI’s grand vision.
Despite their outwardly projected unity to keep reins on their usurped territories tensions between the twin brothers run high. The firstborn Victor has been physically stronger, bolder, and always strived to be the center of attention. Hector relied on his smarts and cunning to ensure he did not get fully eclipsed by his brother’s shadow. What Victor acquired by bullying and power Hector matched through cunning and secret alliances. Applying their unique skills they’ve built an empire pillaging the old ruins and nearby hideaways. Inevitably, decades of never-ending strife have worn them out. Victor has become more brutal and ruthless exacting a heavy toll on anyone who dared oppose him while Hector has grown ever more disillusioned with the hopeless carnage and lack of vision to end humanity’s bleak predicament.
Long before EDEN’s robot army lay siege to his capital Hector started to openly vocalize his support of the AI’s “restoration plan.” In his view “temporary digitization” was humanity’s only hope. The alternatives were simply smoke screens delaying certain doom. In his mind resisting the AI which thus far had a clean record of assisting the cyborg populace was a knee-jerk reaction.
“We need a plan, we need structure, and above all, we need unemotional oversight,” he bellowed at the annual Telestream address to his subjects, “we either side with EDEN and wait it out in the metaverse for “the return” or we die here forever. A chance at life, a continued existence, or certain death? — which would you choose?,” his raspy laughter went on for a long moment, “well, you won’t get to choose. You will have to fight for it.”
He proposed a radical ancient method of solving the issue of random predetermination — the Battledrome — a cyborg gladiator arena. The method was simple. Those who hoped to retain their human form would have to fight for it in battle-royale combat. It was to be a clean fight. The contestants were to select an armor package and participate in multiple rounds of melee combat. The incapacitated losers were to be taken to the adjacent FDF digitization chambers where their minds would be virtualized and enter the metaverse. The bodies were to be stored in the cryobed facility. The last 1% standing would stay and aid EDEN to carry out the master plan. “It is a fair and honorable way. It is the only way,” Hector cried at the Battledrome opening ceremony in Romaris. “We shall continue our fight in the metaverse, continue to hone our skills, weed out the weak, and we shall return, stronger than ever, united, and reclaim our rebuilt planet. We know we can’t do it alone. Let EDEN guide us to redemption!” The crowds roared. “Let the games begin!“ That’s how it started.
***
Wearing only his mask and a pink t-shirt with a white star emblem reserved for members of the Lisrid council Victor paced impatiently between two artificial windows. Augmented reality parrots bickered with each other in the distance. Annoyed, Victor waved them away. How he hated these digital entities. He’s spent his entire life trying to fend off the inevitable, and now he had no more time left. It has become clear that the main struggle had to be moved to the metaverse.
Victor never acknowledged his brother’s plan and pledged to fight EDEN and his new acolytes to the end. He was convinced that EDEN’s infiltrators managed to brain-hack Hector.
There wasn’t much time and the situation grew ever more dire with each passing day. The siege of Lisrid was in its final inning with supplies rapidly approaching critical levels. As EDEN’s assaults intensified after Hector’s Romaris joined its ranks, it became imperative to take control of some FDF gates to set up resistance cells in the metaverse to infiltrate and counter Hector’s collaborators before they grew their ranks, got trained, organized, and resurrected back on earth. The turncoats could never be trusted again. Whatever the AI’s true intentions, it had to be neutralized at the first opportunity. Once the world was free of this digital parasite, there would be time to decide how to manage what is left of the earth. For now, the goal was clear — It’s them or us.
The fighting in the physical world did not last long. It took a lot of resources to wage real war. Weapons, ammo, fuel, power, food, water — after years of non-stop combat they were all extremely scarce, even for cyborgs with minimal needs. Victor’s special ops teams sent out before Lisrid got completely cut off by EDEN’s forces managed to capture the African FDF station in Nairobi. They digitized immediately and the cyber teams moved their code to dark pool servers away from EDEN’s reach. They were all volunteers. They knew they went on a one-way trip to the metaverse. There was no way to safely store their bodies before EDEN destroyed the facility.
The cost was heavy. Thousands of soldiers have been lost during these operations but several hundred got through. This was a start. Things got even more promising as a portable FDF prototype was captured and transported into Lisrid. It was used extensively before it became apparent that it was planted by EDEN as every “processed” individual’s body decayed within a few days and their digital avatars have been all identified and apprehended. Even worse, several dark pool servers have become exposed during the storage process. Before Victor’s people realized their mistake a number of operatives who have already started to organize and recruit in the metaverse have been either turned or terminated. The servers had to be destroyed, and they have run out of time.
Victor knew Lisdrid cannot be defended for more than a few days. Thanks to Hectors’ treachery EDEN exploited every weakness of the subterranean fortress inserting suicide drones into communication and ventilation conduits. Most manufacturing and food replication districts have been either captured or destroyed and combat units have been reporting critical ammo stocks in most sectors. Morale was sinking rapidly.
There were no alternatives left as Hector has always said, but Victor did not intend to succumb to his twin brother’s rule. He had a plan. He always had a plan. It was audacious, borderline crazy, and the odds of succeeding were low, but that’s all he had left.
They needed to digitize more people to have any hope of surviving in the EDEN-controlled metaverse. The only way to accomplish that was by capturing another FDF station… and hiding it before EDEN could track it. Without their own gateway, they’d be trapped in the Metaverse forever. He knew of only one man with a record of proven effectiveness and bravado that had a chance of pulling it off. It was time to use his ace.
“Send him in,” said Victor as he leaned back on his float chair.
Major Stormborn entered the tall dark hall of Lisrid’s command chamber. His heavy footsteps echoed off the sweating, bare stone columns carved out of the mountain. Artificial sun rays from simulated skylights cast dancing shadows on the polished marble floor. He wore a typical hodgepodge of highly customized armor including an Aqua suit, Atomic storm arm augmentations, a worn-out but always capable Battlelion breastplate, and a gleaming red Hitman helmet. He looked presentable enough but it was the red rose replica that he held firmly in front of him that caught Victor’s attention. The rose was a privilege granted to the most trusted and accomplished individuals, a token that opened many doors, including these ones. It was extremely hard to attain and was easily forfeited. That Erik chose to bring it meant one thing — he was ready.
“My friend,” Victor gestured towards the Major from behind a blue glowing digital table — please, join me. It’s been way too long.”
“We have identified a suitable target,” said Erik as he approached the display showcasing the dire tactical situation around the beleaguered city. A green roundel at the center of the cave system was surrounded on all sides by red blobs with tentacles reaching deep into it.
“Ah, the good old Erik, always dispensing with pleasantries,” Victor shifted in his float-chair, “you know, you could be a General by now if you played the game a little…”
“We can secure the FDF before the High-Alert teams can respond,” Stormborn stood motionless illuminated by the deep blue display.
“Are you certain?” In a rare display of trust Victor took off his Pulga Protector helmet and stared at Erik bare-faced. His cybernetic eyes stirred and adjusted as he studied Erik’s face. He compulsively stroked the scope of his golden Classy Killer pistol always strapped to his thigh. He was notorious for using it rather indiscriminately to dispatch any signs of slight or insubordination.
“I am,” said Erik and placed the red rose on the digi-table. It buzzed with static. “I pledge my rose until the task is complete as a token of my confidence.”
The chamber shook slightly and one could hear debris coming down just outside the room.
“I have no need for living things, they are so fleeting,” Victor’s eyes shifted away from Erik, “but it is priceless, and I accept it as a token of your devotion to our cause. Thanks to people like you, lions, like you, Lisrid will be reborn and one day will rise back from the ashes.”
“Thank you for accepting ‘the gift,’” said Erik sternly.
“Assemble your team Major! May fortitude be with you.”
As Stormborn left the room Victor picked up the crackling rose from the table and sniffed it. It seemed incredible to think that the next time he was to pick it up it would just be a dry memory in need of ridiculously expensive revitalization. If Stormborne succeeds that is and gets them the FDF they so desperately needed. He was certain Stormborn could do it, there was only one thing that could stop him — thought Victor — and if Yrsa did her job, he won’t be there.
This is a Soldiers of the Metaverse (SOTM) project story.
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