EMERGENCE

Plop! A tablespoon of slop filled the last empty groove on his plate. Some beans, sloppy stew and rice, quite unappetizing to look at. Stepping away from the counter, Valerius headed straight for his usual spot, left corner. Two men were already seated there in blue prison uniform. To the left was Brodie spooning some stew, the crevices on his bald head smiling back at me. And to the right was Finch, his pale complexion and short stature accentuated by the large figure beside him.

"Val! heard the word?" Brodie's gravelly voice cut through the din, as Valerius settled opposite them.

"What word?" he replied, feigning ignorance. The slop pooled at his inner cheek. Suppressing the urge to gag, he swallowed it. Difficult as it was, he gave no indication.

"The quake. A die the size of a city block on the surface"

The die. Right. A cube spanning 1 kilometer in breadth, width and height is nothing to scoff at. Surface shining with black sheen, so tough that a nuke would fail to leave a scratch on its surface. There was no doubt, it was Kyrvite tech. Not even the old world could have produced something this advanced. 

"Source? Sounds bogus to me" 

"GC's holding a presentation tonight. Still bogus?" Finch added, smirking. The fact that he was inwardly celebrating that win was too clear to miss.

"There's good news val! PHC is on surface. They're staging a recapture"

As Valerius heard those words, his tense body relaxed ever so slightly. The chances of death were now at an acceptable low. 

"And what about release? I'm assuming the city is in shambles. Impossible to rebuild"

"Nobody knows. But word will be out soon is what they're saying. I say mining duty will be cancelled. Layer 2 will be released. Death row will be executed"

Layer 2 release does sound plausible... if the surface is irrecoverable that is

"And why're they calling it a die?"

"Cuz its God's die. Maybe he took pity on us. He's saving us. From the dark ages... Maybe this is his gift. Light will ret"

"Got it!" said Valerius, interrupting Finch.

'God's Die' huh.. Sounded pretty silly. He once dreamed of a better world. Not anymore. The old world was dead. If anything, what's on the surface was a bad sign. 

"Val, I did that research you asked of me. Batch 81 had 1450 inmates drafted, death row excluded. 91 died. That's a little over 5% dead in 2 years"

Brodie sentenced to 42, and Finch 24 years. Thats 0.95 raised to 21 and 12. That's makes it around a 50% and 30% chance of survival respectively. These men were dead men walking. Valerius meanwhile was upset for the two years he'd have to spend in this sh*thole

"We'll all be out soon. Fingers crossed"

"TIMES UP! LINE UP AT THE GATES! YOU HAVE 2 MINTUES! NOW!" shouts glared through the speakers.

It was time to wind up. Soon the men formed lines at the exit and they were escorted to the layer 2 cell block. Within minutes, Valerius was back at his assigned cell. Cell number 64. The dead end cell on the highest level. Standing before him was a well maintained hygienic sink, a bunk bed and a bathroom. To the right corner was a table and chair, along with a few books on it. Extravagance for a prisoner indeed.

Valerius splashed some fresh water unto his face. Two red tinted orbs stared back at him through the sheet of glass. These were the eyes of the Grimlock's. Like pearls among rock, they always stood out. His black hair was cut short to a few inches. Hair above 3 inches was prohibited for men. A familiar scar across his nose and left cheek reminding him of a night that he wished he could forget.

He picked up a familiar book, from under the pillow, top bunk. It had a black leather cover, worn out from use. He sat at the table and flipped to the last written page. 40 numbers were listed. 30 of them were striked out. He picked up his pen and striked out one more off the list. Finch's mapping data had interestingly coincided with one of these coordinates. It's highly unlikely to have the anomaly then. If it did, he'd never reveal that information. That leaves 9 possible locations that father investigated. He tore off the page and folded it to the size of a marble. The PHC would raid the vault soon. Preparing in advance would be critical. This is information I can't loose. It would do good to memorize these numbers in the meantime. The rest of father's journal wasn't important.

Closing the book, he settled on the top bunk to take a nap. Couple hours remained till GC would make the announcement. His curiosity was killing him.

"Val! I have a theory, or two... about the die.." said Brodie from the lower bunk, alerting Valerius from 

"Shoot" said Valerius, curiosity piqued.

"I'm thinking of two possibilities actually... Maybe it was an accident. With the aether running rampant underneath, Kyrvite tech has been degrading for 5000 years now. The planets' breaking apart. A piece or two just made it's way above. That's the first"

This did sound like the most likely reason. No, it was the most obvious conclusion to arrive at. This wasn't the first instance of Kyrvite tech failure. The spatial barriers have broken apart leading to the formation of Null Zones. That's one example of failure. The gravitational anomalies are another. It's clear that even the Kyrvites were unable to contain aether properly. They failed. And this was the result. The planet will die in a hundred thousand years at most. 

"And the other?"

"What if this is phase 2 of their grand plan...? So far their machinations have been dormant. Everything they did, they did so from the background. This time, maybe it's different. There's some active involvement here. Maybe their plans are transitioning to stage 2..."

Interesting. The evidence to support this was almost nil. But Valerius had a strange feeling that this could be real. He truly believed it. The world of Nornerai had been extremely active for the past 500 years. They seemed to be growing rapidly. The die was definitely a signal. Of what? only time would tell.

"That's an interesting theory" he replied. Then they laid back in silence, thoughts bombarding their minds as they tried to silence their minds in an effort to sleep.

"Val! Are we gonna die?" Brodie's voice broke the silence.

Valerius could feel his worry. There was a certain sadness in the atmosphere. Most of these men were going to die. They would be worked quite literally to death. Valerius didn't know if things would get better but he forced himself to utter a few words.

"I can't promise you anything... I'll do what I can if I get out"

Never will he make a promise he can't keep. Never will he utter words of comfort that he cannot abide. Some may call him selfish for that, but he didn't care. 

2 hours later, a glaring alarm sounded. 

"Cell 64! Prisoner 342! Mr. Valerius! Report to the guard room NOW! Your cell doors will open in 5 seconds!"

"I repeat! Prisoner 342! Mr. Valerius! Report to the guard room NOW! Your cell doors will open in 5 seconds! You have 2 minutes!"

Panicking, Valerius quickly woke up to the noise. It was him? Why would they need him of all people? And for what? Apprehensive about the situation, he made way to the guard room in silence. Dilly dallying wouldn't end well for him. Within minutes, he stood before the guard room, and a guard walked out. He cuffed Valerius.

"The Guard Captain has requested you. No questions. Just follow me."

Valerius stayed silent and followed the guard. After passing a couple of corridors, they arrived at a room at the hallway end. It seemed the GC's room was on Layer 2, with the mining draftees. He opened the doors and he was led inside. As the doors shut behind him, two men stood before him. The palpable tension in the atmosphere was evident. 

"Lord!" said Valerius as kneeled and bowed his head without hesitating for a second. There was no doubt. The man in silky black garments, cloaked and discreet was a Nornerai. At first glance one might notice nothing abnormal. But if you looked closely, behind his collar, on the skin of his neck was a tattoo with seven eyes. Blood red sclera and gold pupiled, all extended outward radially from the center, blinking in unison at regular intervals. A PHC representative. A real life Post Human. Or what they call... Nornerai. 

If he wanted, he could casually slaughter Valerius, and nothing would be done. Nornerai were truly considered Gods among men. One man could fight a million. Showing them respect was an internal order one must make to oneself. If not, only death would be your ending.

"Valerius! This is Lord Representative Nicholas Warren. You may rise. Have a seat. He wishes to have a word with you" said a voice from the right. Only now did he pay attention to the man on the right. It was the Guard Captain. Whitening hair, and wrinkled skin. He was an old man. Valerius stood up.

Lord Nicholas! I will leave him in your care!" he said, and quickly left the room.

"Sit" said sir Nicholas, as he took a seat on the Guard Captains chair.

Valerius quietly obeyed.

"Grimlock... Old world lingo... So let me guess, your father was a Nornerai"

That was right. He was. The Grimlocks were one of the oldest families to exist. But Valerius was the last of the bloodline. They'd existed almost since the oldworld was lost. The first line of nobility since the Post Cataclysmic Era began. It wasn't a thing to be hidden. Many such families still existed, most of them scattered, dead, broken. People don't maintain power very long in these times. 

"Have a look" he said as a threw a stack of pictures on the desk. Only now did Valerius notice sir Nicholas's appearance. He was middle aged, his facial skin wrinkled. But his disposition was sharp, and dominant. Two brown eyes stared back. He quickly began sifting through the stack.

Amazing. The pictures taken were of the cube currently on the surface. Numerous light drones hovering at hundreds of meters above ground level. The shot was taken from hundreds of meters away, yet the structure was large enough to nearly blot out one's entire vision. Close up shots revealed its spotless surface, glossy and smooth. Inlaid with golden inscription barely perceptible, of incredibly fine precision. From afar, the cube seemed to glow with a faint golden sheen. Beautiful. But surrounding it was debris. It seems like Layer 1 walls had crumbled and the electric grid was clearly offine. That means the city center is down as well.

"1.7 kilometers wide and tall. Far tougher than diamond. Surrounded by a 2 meter thick telekinetic barrier. Truly engineering beyond human comprehension. Am I right?..."

"Absolutely" said Valerius. But why was he being shown these pictures now? Why alone?

Reading his mind, "Recorded aether flux density tolerance of 2503 $ap/m^3/s$. And recorded aether density tolerance levels of 3212 $ap/m^3$. The highest I've ever seen. Absurd enough for me to question whether you're human..."

NO! His eyes widened. He instantly formed thoughts of escape! How the fuck did they know?! But a formless pressure enveloped his body. He couldn't move. A telekinetic. There's a reason you never expose your tolerance level. An exposed high tolerance level almost guaranteed that you'd suffer an ill fate on a Nornerai's experiment table. Aether toxication was universally accepted as the worst way to die. And nobody wants that fate.

"I know what you're thinking... We've investigated the cube. It initiates controlled evolution. Success rates have risen 100 fold. 12 Nornerai have been born within the last 24 hours... As you might guess, the tolerance level and success rate are correlated"

Wait. So his chances weren't as bad as it looked. He gradually decreased his resistance. Isn't this what he always wanted? And then he understood. All mining draftees are probably tested for AT without their consent. That data is probably immensely valuable. The moment he was drafted, his fate was sealed. 

"What was the lowest tolerance level among the successful candidates"

"Good question. It was around a 300 I believe."

"And what's in it for me? Why do you think I'd take such a risk?"

"Your sentence will be waived for one. And two... I know you want this.."

He was right, Valerius always wanted this. But what more tests do they need for him for? They already know what the success rates represent. Their main investigation objective has already been obtained.

"And what do I need to do?"

"Simple. A chip implant on your wrist... To monitor your vitals.."

Okay.. now everything made sense. A shot at becoming a Nornerai with reduced risk, while having my sentence waived. And they obtain vital data from a couple ginea pigs. This sounded like a great deal on paper. But was it? Could he trust him? Wait. The risk was still ridiculously high. He could always work the 2 years and try it then. But would he get this chance again?

"One more thing. Can you get my cellmate Brodie out?" He'd say this one sentence. If it didn't work, then that was that. Valerius was no saint. He'd never attach himself to those men. The weak suffered. Their lives were nutrients for the strong. 

"Only if he's ready to accept a similar contract" That was a lie. Bribery and the like was usually not off table.

"No. Forget it" He wished him good luck in silence. For he had done his part and that was all.

"And about your response.. You can take your time... I'll be bac"

"I Accept" he said, gritting his teeth as he interrupted sir Nicholas. He had made a choice. But his instinct told him he didn't really have one. Now he could only hope the future wouldn't betray him.

Sir Nicholas prompted him to sign an NDA as well as some additional documents as a formality. There have been 9 candidates selected from layer two i.e the mining draftees already. And 25 volunteers from death row.