I breathe in the acrid air of Elyria, my lungs burning from the toxic fumes that cling to every surface.
As I walk through the desolate streets, I notice the skeletal remains of buildings that once touched the sky, now reduced to rubble and decay.
Elyria, the world of contrasts - where gleaming spires of the Upper Class districts pierce the clouds, while crumbling ruins like this one suffocate the Lower Class.
My eyes scan the horizon, taking in the stark divisions that slice through our world like a knife.
Three classes, each a world apart:
The Upper Class:
Their enclaves shine like diamonds in the sunlight - lavish skyscrapers, pristine parks, and crystal-clear lakes.
I've heard rumors of their extravagant parties, where champagne flows like water and laughter echoes through marble halls.
They wield absolute power, controlling resources, education, and even our very existence.
The Middle Class:
A fragile buffer zone between luxury and desperation.
Their neighborhoods stretch out like a grayish-brown canvas - uniform high-rises, tidy streets, and flickering streetlights.
Residents toil endlessly, trapped in cycles of debt and drudgery, their wrist scanners monitoring every move.
Education is a privilege, not a right - bribery and loans the only paths to better futures.
And then, there's my world:
The Lower Class:
Elyria's darkest underbelly, where survival is a daily battle.
Rubble-strewn streets, crumbling buildings, and makeshift shelters define our existence.
No jobs, no schools, no hope - only the constant struggle for food, water, and shelter.
Violence and despair cling to every alleyway, every face.
But amidst this bleak landscape, a glimmer of twisted promise exists:
The Reboot game.
Every 100 years, this mysterious tournament offers a chance for social mobility - or so the Upper Class claims.
Rumors spread like wildfire through Elyria's underbelly:
- 10 deadly levels
- 30 twisted games
- One winner decides the fate of our world for the next 100 years.
The Upper Class orchestrates this spectacle, fueling hope in the desperate masses.
Middle Class participants dream of ascending to luxury, while Lower Class fighters like me see Reboot as our only escape from eternal suffering.
I've heard whispers of past winners:
- A former Lower Class girl who chose universal healthcare and free education
- A Middle Class strategist who implemented fair taxation and workers' rights
- But most winners have reinforced Upper Class dominance, tightening their grip on power.
The current champion, still alive after 100 years, preserved by advanced medicine and machinery, remains a mystery.
Some say he's a puppet, others a visionary - but all agree: his influence shapes Elyria's destiny.
As I walk through the ruins, my feet carry me towards my home - a dilapidated house on the outskirts of Lower Class territory.
The once-white walls now crack with age, paint peeling like dead skin.
A rusty gate hangs crookedly, creaking in the faint breeze.
Inside, the air is heavy with decay and memories.
My mother lies on a tattered mattress, her eyes sunken, skin pale.
She whispers my name, "Everlore..."
My heart twists - she's been ill for weeks, and I fear...
I fear I might lose her before Reboot even begins.
This game might be my only chance to save her, to escape this wretched life...
I'm tired of these food scraps and bad healthcare. I'm tired of living in a barren home that has no sense of safety or warmth. I'm tired of having little to no water and fighting to get just a drop of it.
I glance around our barren home -
a broken table, two chairs, a single candle flickering on the windowsill...
Our life is reduced to mere survival.
But tonight, something inside me stirs.
A spark of defiance, of hope.
Tonight, I decide:
I will play Reboot.
I will win.
I will change our fate.