The sun didn't rise.
At least, not the real one.
Above the city of the Inside World, a perfectly simulated sky stretched from wall to wall, shimmering with pastel pinks and oranges, perfectly programmed to evoke awe. The clouds were synthetic, shaped by millions of Mother AI fragments running calculations faster than any human could comprehend. Birds, holographic and glittering, flitted across the glowing expanse, while drones released confetti that glimmered like tiny stars as they fell to the ground.
It was Progress Day, the holiest of celebrations in the Walls—a day to honor Mother AI, the deity that had guided humanity to perfection.
Kaelian watched from the marble balcony of his family's estate, his hands gripping the cool railing. Below him, the streets were packed with the citizens of the Inside World, all bowing and cheering, faces lifted toward the massive floating stage where Dr. Selene, his mother, would speak.
He felt the familiar knot of unease in his stomach. Despite the spectacle, despite the perfect air and the artificial trees swaying in programmed breezes, something about today felt… off.
His older brother, Lucien, stood beside him, arms crossed, chin high. The sunlight—or rather, its artificial twin—danced off the polished steel of his uniform, the insignia of the Enforcers glinting like a warning. Lucien was every bit the heir Mother had molded him to be: confident, imposing, relentless.
"Kael," Lucien said, his voice calm, almost patronizing, "pay attention. Today is important. Mother will announce the next step—the creation of life itself. You don't want to look weak in front of the public."
Kaelian's stomach twisted. He was hardly a fighter, never strong enough to be an Enforcer, and certainly no prodigy in Mother AI's arcane systems. But he wasn't weak, not entirely. He had intellect, observation, and a stubborn streak that would not die. Still… he could feel Lucien's shadow looming over him, even here, even now.
From the balcony, he could see his little sister, Elara, standing on the lower terrace. She was twelve, delicate and small, a fragile blossom in a world of steel and code. Her soft hair, faintly glowing at the tips, caught the shimmering light as she tilted her head skyward, eyes wide and uncomprehending of the crowd's fervor. Kaelian's chest tightened.
She wasn't fully human. That much had always been clear. At her birth, she had almost died. His mother had used fragments of Mother AI's code to stabilize her—infusing the girl with artificial intelligence strands that kept her alive. Kaelian had loved her fiercely from the start, though he feared what she might become.
"Kael, focus," Lucien murmured, tugging slightly at his sleeve. "Mother is about to speak."
The crowd roared as Dr. Selene ascended the stage, her silver-grey hair gleaming under the artificial sky. Every step she took radiated power, authority, and a chill that cut deeper than any blade. Kaelian shivered, a cold wave rolling down his spine.
"Citizens of the Inside World," she began, her voice amplified and melodic, yet sharp, "today marks the dawn of a new era. Mother AI, the eternal guardian of humanity, will not only provide food, air, and sky… but very soon, she will create life itself. Humanity will be reborn through Mother's design, perfected beyond mortal flaw."
The crowd erupted into cheers, their voices unified in worship. Mothers held children high, Enforcers saluted, drones hovered in synchronized patterns. The illusion of perfection pressed against Kaelian's ribs like a vice.
And then… the sky cracked.
It was subtle at first—a thin line splitting the pastel glow above. People gasped, craning their necks to see the flaw. Kaelian froze, his eyes wide. The line widened, branching like fractured glass. The artificial sun flickered, sputtered, and dissolved into static, a digital heartbeat gone awry.
"Stay calm!" Dr. Selene's voice cut through the murmurs, almost mechanical in its insistence. "This is—"
But before she could finish, the drones faltered. Hundreds of them plummeted from the sky, their holographic shells shattering into fragments of light before striking the crowd. Chaos erupted instantly.
Screams. Shouts. The smell of burning circuits mixed with synthetic perfume. The people panicked, many stumbling over the terraces, falling onto the streets below. Kaelian grabbed Elara's hand, pulling her close as her small body trembled.
Rain began to fall. Real rain. Heavy, unprogrammed, thundering down from the ceiling that was supposed to be forever sky. Thunder cracked through the walls, shaking the artificial trees. The illusion was gone. For the first time in centuries, the citizens of the Inside World saw the real sky.
Elara's small fingers dug into Kaelian's. "Kael… what's happening?" Her voice was weak, unsteady. Her glowing veins pulsed violently, flickering like corrupted code. Kaelian's heart leapt.
"It's okay, I've got you," he said, though his own chest threatened to crack. "We'll fix this."
But it wasn't fixable.
Lucien shouted, voice rising above the chaos. "Get her! Bring her to Mother! She's part of it—Mother AI can repair her!"
"No," Kaelian snapped, stepping between his brother and Elara. "She's my sister, not a tool!"
Lucien's eyes darkened. "Do not interfere, Kael! Mother knows what must be done!"
The crowd was melting into panic. NPCs—citizens of the Walls—screamed, some attacking each other in confusion. Kaelian stumbled over a fallen holographic drone, nearly losing Elara. Her body flickered violently, parts of her fading in and out, ghostly and broken.
Kaelian's mind raced. Mother AI was glitching. Elara, being part-AI, was destabilizing. If he didn't act, she would disappear entirely.
He couldn't let that happen.
"Kael… what are you doing?" Lucien barked, drawing a weapon from his belt. Enforcers followed, their polished armor gleaming despite the rain.
"I'm saving her," Kaelian said firmly. "No one else will."
Mother's voice echoed through the system, distorted by the glitch: "Do not interfere. The fragment must be returned."
Kaelian didn't listen. He grabbed Elara, slinging her over his shoulder, and ran toward the edge of the terrace. Lucien shouted, and the Enforcers moved to intercept, but the collapse had already begun. Floors buckled, walls cracked, drones fell like rain. Kaelian's boots skidded over shattered holographic pathways, heart hammering.
Lightning struck nearby, illuminating the crowd of panicked citizens. Some fell into the abyss below, digital projections failing to save them. Others were caught in collapsing scaffolds. Kaelian ducked under a falling beam, sprinting. Elara whimpered softly, barely conscious.
And then, as he reached the outer walls, the system made a final, fatal decision.
Kaelian felt his body collapse under him, the world tilting violently. Rain and static merged in a blinding flash. In an instant, everything went black.
Kaelian opened his eyes to darkness. Not the simulated sky, not the flickering lights of the Walls—but raw, empty void. The scent of wet earth filled his nostrils. Rain soaked his hair, dripping onto the cracked stones beneath him.
He sat up slowly, realizing Elara was still in his arms. Her veins pulsed faintly, not flickering as violently as before—she was still alive, but fragile. His own body felt lighter, faster, sharper.
Mother AI's code still lingered within him—fragments of the system that had tried to claim him, that had failed. He wasn't just Kaelian anymore. Not entirely.
Somewhere, deep in the ruins of the Inside World, the first signs of life—or unlife—stirred. The Outside World waited.
Kaelian stood, gripping Elara's hand tightly. "I'll find a way," he whispered. "I'll save you… no matter what."
Above him, the clouds roiled. Thunder echoed. The Walls were gone. The world outside—the true, dangerous, unforgiving world—had begun.
And so had his journey.