10:45, 13.06.2047 – Nexus / Politburo
Inside the chambers of the political planning authority, preparations were running at full speed.The Politburo convened together with the Consul to discuss the final details of the upcoming cultural and ideological restructuring.
A new Cultural Revolution—this was its official designation.It was meant to rekindle the revolutionary spirit, reignite the fire of change, tear people from their routines, and allow them to dream once more.
The Supreme Comrade—the First Speaker of the Council—made it clear that this upheaval of the administrative apparatus was necessary to improve living conditions and deepen political participation among the working masses.
"The flame of the Revolution must not be allowed to die," he declared."We require renewed enthusiasm, renewed courage for change, and the destruction of reactionary elements."
The Comrade for Epidemic Prevention and Health took the floor:
"Honored brothers and sisters, esteemed Consul, I believe I speak for all Utopists when I say that we welcome your determination for change with full devotion. I would like to present the following proposals:
First: an increase of the daily ration from 2,000 calories to at least 2,400 calories in order to safeguard collective health."
Faces tightened—some in approval, others in rejection. Utopists nodded in agreement, while the rational minds of the Realists regarded the idea of increasing food distribution in the face of an impending crop failure as madness. No one made this clearer than the Minister of Economic Planning, whose expression twisted visibly at the mention of adjusted rations.
Doctor Bauer, however, remained undeterred.
"Second: the promotion of artistic and cultural activities, supported by the Collective Youth organizations.
Third: increased allocation of raw materials for civilian infrastructure—schools, hospitals, libraries, food-producing facilities, and more comfortable living quarters."
She was met with applause from the Consul and several other officials.
The minister who had grimaced moments earlier now voiced his position:
"Please do not misunderstand me—Realists also wish to improve the lives of the people.But everyone present here knows that resources are scarce and ideals are costly. We must not forget that we are in a state of war."
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the rows.
"The Southern League continues to increase pressure, our cold war with the United Stations and the military junta of the Eastern State is still ongoing. Furthermore, the Gray Blight is destroying our fungal harvest. Attempts to contain this plague have met with only moderate success."
He allowed the words to settle and rearranged his documents.
"I can raise daily rations to no more than 2.200 calories."
"That is insufficient!" a Utopist shouted.
To substantiate his assessment, the Minister of Economic Planning elaborated:
"Seventy-five percent of all salvaged material from the surface is consumed by the armaments industry. Diverting resources from this sector would mean sacrificing countless lives. Another twenty-five percent goes to agricultural production, and the remaining ten percent is allocated for civilian use."
He shrugged and crossed his arms.
"In other words: there are no reserves to tap into. The only remaining option would be to further intensify raw material extraction in the surface territories we claim."
A murmur swept through the assembly. Officials whispered, consulted one another. Everyone understood what this meant.
Either force victory on the battlefield—or send workers to the irradiated, mutant-infested surface, potentially robbing them of their last chance to produce healthy offspring.
The Techno-Socialist Union of Humanity (TSUH) did not exterminate mutated humans as the Eastern Estate State did, where they were treated as inferior slaves, an untouchable caste without rights or representation.
Instead, the Union regarded them as biological reactionaries—remnants of a world whose genes had been distorted by rubble and radioactive dust from the old capitalist order. Most mutations were deemed harmful to collective health. Individuals with minor deviations were subjected to regular examinations and genetic screening and were only permitted to reproduce with authorization.
Those whose genetic material was heavily altered were forbidden from having children altogether—"for their own protection," as it was officially stated.
The Consul intervened, calming the room with a gesture.
"Comrades, I ask for silence."
The hall fell quiet instantly. All eyes turned toward him—the man standing before the red banner of the Revolution, behind which the copper emblem of the Union gleamed.
"I understand both sides," he began, "and their arguments. However, this second Cultural Revolution is absolutely necessary—to improve the lives of our citizens, yes, and that of all humanity."
He paused.
"As far as we know, the Viennese underground contains the last remnants of civilization. What use is it if we—the vanguard, the spearhead of human existence—fail to improve the world decisively?"
Questioning faces looked up at him. The flickering bulbs illuminated his angular features—a man standing between factions, between Realists and Utopists. A tightrope walk between approval and rejection, hope and fear.
He continued:
"We must make sacrifices for the good of humanity."
The survivors already made sacrifices every single day—and had done so for fifteen years without pause. They cultivated fungi and crops in soil fertilized with their own waste. They purified irradiated water using improvised activated-carbon filters.
What sacrifice, then, was the Consul speaking of? Which fragment of dignity, which shard of humanity were they now required to relinquish for the continued existence of mankind?
"We must advance to the surface, expand, and take what is rightfully ours. We must wrench the dead world's riches from its ice-cold hands: metals, fertilizer, timber, consumer goods, and military stockpiles."
His hard voice turned almost prophetic as he slammed his fist onto the finely marbled oak table.
"We must establish additional outposts. With the newly secured resources, we will construct the infrastructure of the future. Through this new Cultural Revolution, we will create the society capable of enduring this seemingly endless winter—hardened by progress, equality, and reason."
The assembly stood frozen—simultaneously inspired and intimidated by their leader's vision.
"Despite our efforts, we continue to face food shortages. Therefore, rations will be increased to a maximum of 2,200 calories. Additional raw materials will be allocated to culture and public health. Until our harvests recover from fungal decay, food will remain rationed—but distributed more generously."
Approval spread through the hall, from Realists and Utopists alike.
"Since no food imports from the Confederation are possible, we will seize Taubstummengasse Station and appropriate its abundant food production. We will make the Southern League feel our armored fist, strip it of much of its agricultural capacity, and end this conflict through strength.
For the future of our species! For the future of our superior society! For the future of the Union!"
The officials erupted into applause and thundered in unison:
"For the future of our species!For the future of our superior society!For the future of the Union!For our Consul!"
Plans were finalized, feasibility studies commissioned, inventories reviewed, and orders issued. Men and materiel were concentrated for the offensive. The entire state apparatus of the TSUH sprang into motion—like an unstoppable machine.