Governor: The Protectorate of Origin Point
WA Delegate: None.
Founder: The Protectorate of Origin Point
Last WA Update:
Embassies: The Embassy, R0 Metaverse, The Bar on the corner of every region, Freshness, Mitteleuropa, and True Waskaria.
Tags: Small.
Infinite Multiverse contains 10 nations, the 2,003rd most in the world.
Today's World Census Report
The Most Conservative in Infinite Multiverse
Citizens in nations ranked highly tend to have greater restrictions placed on what they may do in their personal lives, whether via community values or government-imposed law.
As a region, Infinite Multiverse is ranked 19,328th in the world for Most Conservative.
Nation | WA Category | Motto | ||
---|---|---|---|---|
1. | The Borderlands of The Epochaeon | Psychotic Dictatorship | “Torn Asunder” | |
2. | The Imperium of Vonderu | Moralistic Democracy | “In God we trust” | |
3. | The Confederacy of Sol Nations | Inoffensive Centrist Democracy | “Order, Dignity, Solidarity” | |
4. | The Advanced People of The Republic of Atria | Capitalist Paradise | “Yay, I'm almost valuable!” | |
5. | The Protectorate of Origin Point | Capitalist Paradise | “God i love burgers” | |
6. | The Republic of Northesta | New York Times Democracy | “Freedom! Liberty! Mom’s Thanksgiving pie!” | |
7. | The Rising Sun Coalition of The New Fallen Jedi | Inoffensive Centrist Democracy | “One Galaxy, United and Free” | |
8. | The Commonwealth of The Saturnian System | Scandinavian Liberal Paradise | “Resilience in Adversity, Triumph in Unity” | |
9. | The Universe of -Astridium- | Capitalizt | “I ain't afraid to cap a reality” | |
10. | The Disputed Territories of Mortasheen | Anarchy | “For SCIENCE!” |
Regional Happenings
- : Angevalin ceased to exist.
- : The Imperium of Vonderu arrived from Osiris.
- : The United States of Vosko of the region Mighty democratic frontier of commerce proposed constructing embassies.
- : The Universe of -Astridium- arrived from The Dimensional Rift.
- : The Protectorate of Origin Point arrived from Osiris.
- : The Borderlands of The Epochaeon arrived from The Pacific.
- : Regional Founder The Protectorate of Origin Point ceased to exist.
- : Angevalin arrived from Osiris.
- : Angevalin ceased to exist.
- : The Imperium of Vonderu ceased to exist.
Infinite Multiverse Regional Message Board
Braço fortis, fortis animus. - Popular phrase, said multiple times in the bestiary tablets.
The sudden burst of electricity would cause the visps to be disorientated, causing them to somewhat frying them, fly aimlessly and without objective, without trail, for a short bit. Despite this great distraction, the probe could catch the attention of a flying Crowmunder, the griffon like hybrid of cow and lion would swoop from above, pouncing on the drone.
Everyone had to have a so-called “eureka moment”, sometime. Mortasheen’s denizens decried it inevitable— even cherished— the day that any one scientist eventually goes mad.
The various (surviving) mad scientists present on the train aware of Vivian’s presence grinned. The descent had begun, as far as they were concerned. Why else would she initiate a bout of spirited debate? Were things not so dire, they’d tell their friends, and their friends’ friends, and their monsters’ cousins’-uncles’-former roommates. There would be a communal event not dissimilar to a birthday party arranged to celebrate the beginnings of Vivian’s spiral into madness.
There would be cake.
Nevertheless, Vivian’s battle-declaration did more than just stop one runner. It brought two others to a halt, and gave another Machine Army unit clambering through the window that resembled a three foot tall stocky humanoid a moment of pause.
Then all three were disintegrated in an instant by a sweeping beam of energy that tore through the vermotrain, two cars forward.
Vivan’s position allowed her to either duck in the nick of time or lean back at an angle that it wouldn’t graze her; either way, the group got a glimpse of what had fired it. It was a creature that Waves may be able to identify as being of the biomecha class, like the other Machine Army entities assailing the vehicle— though, this one stood out as looking positively ancient in design, seemingly intentionally modeled after the boxy robots envisioned by ancient Terran media. A almost perfectly square torso with a pair of telescoping graspers gave way to a pair of clunky-looking treads.
Two things stood out about it besides. First, it was headless, yet the body was continuing to independently locomote.
Second, its heads (plural— there was a dome-shaped one and a square one) were flying around on rocket thrusters equipped with basic manipulator appendages, hounding the individual Vivan had noticed earlier. Said individual’s clothes had been partially ripped away, revealing signs of further cybernetic modification; as well, they were furiously yelling in a language her translator registered as unidentifiable, but picked up a flurry of linguisitic notes it seemed to think were directly derived from a multitude of 21st to 22nd century human languages.
Spyker tried to grab the retrohuman by the hood of their hoodie, only for the individual to slip out of the garment and blast them in the side of their cuboid head with their laser pistol, sending them spinning into a nearby booth.
“<<Irritation - We - Will - Be - Fired>”
“<<SOMEONE SAID FIIIIIIIRE!>”
The triangular energy projector built into Spyker’s dome-shaped head let loose another disintegrating particle beam that reduced whatever it swept across to particulate ash. The retrohuman managed to hit the deck just in time, and started to scramble off.
“<<DAG-NABBIT! STAY STILL, YOU LITTLE RETROHUMAN VARMINT!>>”
“<<Little - Left>>”
“<<THANK YOU. NOW, LET’S…>>”
As Spyker was gearing up to fire off another beam, it swirled around, and noticed the group looking at it. It took a moment to size them up.
“<<AW HECK. STRYKER, THEY CALLED FOR BACKUP! PERMISSION TO ENGAGE? PLEASE?! PLEASE. PLEASE.>>”
“<<Hold - Target - Flee - Engage - Pursu—>>”
Before Stryker could finish speaking, the skull-arachnid creature leapt forwards on its twig-like lower legs.
“<<Ye thought ye cuid hijack this vermotrain wi'oot a rammy, eh? a'm offendit 'n', frankly, uggit. Tak' up arms, they wha dare!>>”
…Yeah, that was absolutely some kind of aggressively Scottish highlander accent.
As they landed on Stryker’s flat head and began to basically ride it around while occasionally boxing in its sides, Spyker let out a digital shriek.
“<<YOU BONY BUFFOON! GET YOUR FILTHY SKULL-FISTS OFF OF MY BROTHER!>”
It fired the beam once more, trying to hit the monster latched onto Stryker without hitting Stryker itself; meanwhile, the heads’ large, boxy torso rolled forward with surprising speed towards the group, pincers clacking.
A 600 kilogram Skreeta should not be as fast as it is. Case in point: while Waves went claw-to-snapper with the main chassis of the strange cyborg, Rog vaulted over it, winding up behind Spyker while the latter focused on his newfound friend. Gauntleted talons outstretched, Rog sank his claws into the armor plating of the dome-shaped head, his powerful grip ensuring he would remain firmly uprange of the particle beam.
"You are a fascinating fellow, but it is time to end this foolishness. Do you yield, or shall I peel you open like a hrask-prawn?"
A normal synthetic would have found that line intimidating.
The biomecha of Mortasheen were anything but normal.
However, the little delegation had another card to play.
Vivian's voice thundered through the ruined traincar.
"DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?! I perfected interdimensional travel when even the Minds failed! I invented my universe's first FTL Drive! I am the most distinguished scientist of my toposophic grade, and if you kill me, YOU WILL HAVE HELL TO PAY! Maybe you can beat Rog. I wouldn't bet on you, but maybe you can avoid getting peeled like a shrimp. But can you handle the wrath of the Archailect once that's done? And what about the Holders? What would become of your employer? Oh, they would lose ever so much face over this if you kill an ambassador of the Allied States and the Archailect's own pet scientist. At the very least, you will be FIRED if you continue causing problems for us. So STOP. CAUSING. PROBLEMS."
Vivian’s angry (and valid) rantings caused the twin heads of the bytefrons to shudder and wince, losing vital bits of their composure and experiencing a seeming corresponding decrease in their fighting abilities. At the same time, Rog, Waves and their s’klobber ally all felt an inexplicable surge of momentum, as if her words had some kind of empowering effect.
Of the two heads, Spyker responded worse.
“<<ARRRRRRGH! THERE IS A BIRD ON ME! GET OFF ME, BIRD-MORPH! THAT IS AN ORDER!>>
They fired their particle beam once more, not to blast Rog (kind of to blast Rog), but rather using the pushback generated by the emitter in conjunction with their rocket thrusters to pull away— though not without taking a significant piece of their plating with it, still embedded in the Skreeta’s gauntlet.
…The plating wasn’t normal metal. It had more give, was more flexible, almost like cured leather. What bits of the biomecha’s internals remained stuck to it were a combination of sparking electronic parts and pulsing red-purple innards.
Meanwhile, Stryker managed to, violently twisting into the ceiling like a corkscrew, dislodge the skull-fisted monster latched onto them by forcing them through the ceiling. They visibly winced at Vivian’s declaration, but not nearly as much as Spyker; in fact, their own biological eye gleamed in response.
“<<Processing - Statement - True - However - Counterargument>>”
The main torso suddenly whirled around from its engagement with Waves, the tri-fingered claw on the end of the left arm grabbing Vivian by the torso.
“<<Fling>>”
The tentacular appendage whirled around in its socket, building up significant momentum before throwing Vivian, perplexingly enough, behind its current position— well past the active fight going on between Rog and Spyker.
After a moment in the air, she collided with something… or rather, someone. It was the person she’d seen the biomecha after in the first place, the suspicious individual from before.
The retrohuman, she’d heard.
Knocked off-balance, they looked up at her in what could only be described as a mixture of utter disgust and palpable terror, before shoving her off of them onto the ground attempting to get their bearings.
Speaking of Waves, she was having a rather easy time keeping up with the torso; bulky as it was, it could be expected to easily exceed her walker’s combat arms in strength, but the creature they were taken from— she recalled Faceless had called it a “painstem”— seemed to have dense enough muscle fibers that she could match the servo-assisted cords of the biomecha’s tentacle-limbs.
That wasn’t the problem, though.
The problem came when a runner and two griefers came in through the ceiling hole Stryker had made, beelining for her. The former immediately engaged her with its laser projector while priming its acid-filled stinger, while the latter pair made buzzing noises almost reminiscent of electronic giggling while waving around esoteric weapons that resembled multitools moreso than firearms, latching onto the sides of the walker as they started trying to cut it open and harvest any present materials they could.
The Enemy of my Enemy - Scolding Steel Story Line 1/? | June 1948 | Location: Bristol Aquaworks, New Avalon.
A quick swell of bubbles erupted at the edge of the docks and then emerging from it was a beast unlike any other. It reminded Redmond of a whale and a pig, its skin was an oily smooth pale colour and what its head around it had two black bead eyes, armed with a worrying natural grin on its face.
“Damn abomination.”. Nolsoy spat to the ground.
Redmond looked around and everyone seemed agitated as the beast grew closer and closer to the docks.
“Calm yourself Marcher Nolsoy, if the biologists and The Supreme Command have reached an agreement then we are bound to uphold it.”. Redmond licked his dry, split lips, the day while grey was wrought in the lingering heat of humidity.
The beast stopped just by the boarding platform, then with a horrific squelch and tear it a hole ripped and revealed what seemed to be a woman, yet her appearance was warped and deformed.
Redmond moved to greet her, with a half effort salute he readied for her to approach him.
The two stood there gleaming eyes at one another, Redmond could see her left arm was bulged and incomplete, yet it moved and shifted unnaturally. The women stroked it softly. “I am Enula Celosia, I have been invited here on the behalf of Furnace Master Blissett as an envoy between our realms.”. She smiled, exposing her sharp fang like teeth.
“I have been ordered to escort you to the meeting location, please follow.”. Redmond demanded, before quickly turning around.
“Wait escort, the package is a bit slow.”. The woman retorted from behind, as he turned around he could see a six legged bloated beast follow behind her, it struggled to move with any grace.
He snapped his head back around and marched slowly to the store room he was instructed to take her to, Redmond’s mind raced at what the package might be. This shady backhanded negotiation with those that dealt in building monstrosities did not sit right with him in the slightest. But orders were orders. He soon approached the shipyard he was told to take her to and quickly he walked in, scanning around, He could see Furnace Master Blissett walking down from the stairwell.
Redmond could hear the laborious beast squelch and heave as it moved closer he took some steps away.
“Door!”
“Lights!”
“Scatter!”
Blisset ordered as he came closer to Redmond, “Not you, you stay.”. He was given a brief tap on the shoulder.
The door closed and bright lights truly illuminated the women. Her deformed left arm had what looked to be the face of a creature erupting from it, it blinked and writhed,
“Hush Sumado, it's alright.”. The woman spoke in a soft tone and she crossed her arm, the living being rumbled gently at her touch. “Ah, the Furnace Master. It is a pleasure to finally meet in person. All of us at the Galapagos express gratitude at your welcoming mindset.”. She smiled, even the beast in her arm shifted in some form.
“Hmm.”.
The Furnace Master seemed less than keen to reciprocate the hospitality. But he looked at the clumsy creature as it nestled up to the woman.
“Is that it Ms Celsosia. Is that our trade?”. The Furnace Master bluntly asked.
“Of course, do you have ours?”. The woman still maintained her soft smile.
Blissett reached into an inner pocket, he produced a large claw that was sharp and curved. He walked over and gave it to her. Yet the woman passed the tooth to the being within her arm, it engulfed it in moving flesh and nested it within its body. The Furnace Master moved back.
“Go Cesta, deliver.”. She commanded softly.
The laborious creature walked forward a bit more, it then shook and trembled. Making some disturbing sounds before.
SLOSH
The unnatural beast’s belly was ripped asunder, a torrent of orange ooze came with it, the smell was repugnant. Yet there was a shimmer of light, that metallic glow. As the ooze dissipated it revealed a metal and glass container, filled with green liquid and another beast suspended in animation.
The woman stroked the large creature, was it was far more mobile and active.
“Door!” The Forge Master shouted, and it revealed Marcher Nolsoy.
Nolsoy wretched at the smell of all and quickly commanded the women to follow. She complied with no issue.
“Door!” again the Blisset’s demands were met and he approached the metal and glass tank.
“Tell me Redmond, what do you think of Life Twisters?”. Blisset asked sternly as caressed the glass.
Redmond took little time to think “Enemies and repulsive.”.
“Heh, the mind of a Marcher. No Redmond, they are competition. The League is a foe and the Weeping Eye is the real enemy we face. At the Life Twisters are found in the sanctity of science, an unnatural science but a science nonetheless. But the Weeping Eye are folktales turned truths, parlour tricks turned into manipulation and worse of all, polluted by the magic. Yet we see the reality they have casted.”. Blisset looked away and pointed up. “Everytime we fly too high our machines falter, every time the Life Twisters send a being up there it faints and falls. The Weeping Eyes covered the highest parts of the Tibetan Plateau in something When they took the Himalayas and the peak of the world a thin haze slowly covered the Earth. Think Redmond, when was the last time you saw a truly sunny day?”. He looked back at the glass tank.
Redmond thought hard. They were days of rain and snow, so of course the sun was never visible. But even on days where the sun was visible, its light did seem dim. You could even stare at it with a naked eye for quite a while. “A long time, I can’t actually remember… I never paid much attention.”.
Blissett pointed his index finger up. “There is the thing. When consumed by war, battle lines and designs you spend a lot of time looking down. While us, the League and the Life Twisters were busy, the Weeping Eye veiled us all. Preventing us from escaping this earth. But this, an unorthodox partnership is our retaliation.”.
He beckoned Redmond closer to see the organism floating in the tank.
“The Life Twisters see the Weeping Eye as a closer threat than we do. The League’s defeats in the Gobi Desert and Central Asia has them worried they will soon clash around the East Indies if the Weeping Eye can shuffle their forces. As such a mutual agreement was reached, the Life Twisters crafted this horrid beast, one that can be linked to a termite or flea. We shall deliver this to Siberia, where hopefully these ‘Mites’ grow and act as a hurdle for any Weeping Eye conquest, while also forcing The League to pull troops away from its European front.”. Blissett cleared his throat.
“A win-win for the two of us.”. Redmond responded, his mind quickly filling with possibilities of the League’s European front being forced to have critical troops and resources being diverted away. “But if our technology cuts out at a certain height, how are we to deliver them? The League will intercept anything we would fly over.”.
Blisset looked back at him, he made his left hand point at nearly straight up wth a slight angle, with his other hand he made a fist. He pushed open his and ‘boom’ sound from his mouth. “Worry not about the techinalcs of it Marcher, we can still succeed in the European front yet.”. He then smiled cunningly towards him.
Redmond still looked at the beast in the glass tank, it reminded him of an insect with his strange legs and mandibles, yet its skin appeared to be smooth and colourless. Even looking at made some primal fear rise within him.
He dare not imagine the horrors the Life Twisters set upon The League in South America.
The kingdom of Ilvana was crumbling.
Not in the gradual, poetic way most kingdoms faded into the pages of history, but in the abrupt, nonsensical chaos that defied reason and reality. Crops wilted into flowers with petals made of paper, soldiers’ armor turned to glass mid-battle, and in one particularly strange corner of the realm, time itself seemed to loop back on itself, causing villagers to live the same five minutes over and over—completely unaware of the bizarre temporal bubble they were caught in.
Above it all, Arcanis reclined on a chaise of shimmering stardust, the edges of her being flickering like the embers of a distant sun. The people below were mere toys in her cosmic dollhouse, dancing on invisible strings. She twirled her fingers in the air lazily, and as her nail traced invisible lines, the lives below shifted like pieces on a grand chessboard.
She tilted her head, watching the mess she had made—a noble lord who had just confessed his love for the wrong queen, a sudden plague of sentient frogs (now making a run for the throne), and an entire city where people could no longer hear each other speak, doomed to communicate only through gestures and frustrated shouts.
"Not bad," Arcanis muttered to herself, her voice carrying a lilting, almost musical cadence, despite the underlying boredom. "But it could use more flair."
Her rainbow eyes, glowing brightly with cosmic energy, flicked to a nearby mountain where a war raged between two rival kingdoms. The battle should have been evenly matched—a delicate balance of strategy, forces, and morale—but Arcanis had nudged that balance off a cliff a few days ago. The sky was now a riot of colors, shifting between deep purples and electric greens, and she’d made sure the king's army marched into battle carrying swords that randomly turned into bouquets of wildflowers.
One soldier fell to his knees as his blade morphed into a spray of daffodils mid-swing, looking up at the sky as if the heavens themselves were laughing at him. In a way, they were.
"Oh, that's priceless," Arcanis giggled, leaning closer, her fingers swirling the strands of fate. She reached out with a flick of her wrist, turning an incoming volley of arrows into a cloud of butterflies and sauced pasta. "Go ahead, try to fight that."
Far below, the soldiers stumbled, utterly bewildered. The confusion was spreading, like a slow, creeping fog that disoriented armies, diplomats, and commoners alike. Somewhere in the capital city, an astronomer was pulling his hair out trying to explain why the stars were suddenly rearranging themselves into rude messages written in the sky.
Arcanis, of course, knew exactly why.
"It’s almost too easy," she sighed, stretching languidly. "A twist here, a ripple there, and suddenly half the realm’s in shambles. But where's the challenge?"
She waved a hand, and in the city’s bustling marketplace, a baker found himself chasing after his runaway loaves of bread, which now had legs. Nearby, the Queen’s prized rabbit had taken to barking orders at the palace guards, who had no choice but to obey the tiny creature. Overhead, clouds shaped like teacups began pouring rain made of honey. Saw
"Maybe a little more chaos," she said to no one in particular, her fingers flickering with untamed energy. "But... what? Dragons? No, too cliché..."
She paused, a mischievous smile creeping across her lips, and waved her hand again. Across the city square, where a large crowd had gathered to witness a royal parade, the air shimmered and warped. People gasped as a massive creature began to materialize, but instead of a fearsome beast or a monster, the form solidified into... a life-sized sculpture of a rubber chicken.
Its presence was utterly absurd—a ten-foot-tall, lifelike rubber chicken standing in the middle of the square, its vacant eyes staring down at the bewildered crowd.
For a moment, there was stunned silence.
And then, chaos.
People screamed, some laughed uncontrollably, and one brave knight drew his sword, charging at the giant poultry statue as though it were an actual threat.
Arcanis erupted in laughter, her voice ringing like the soft chimes of distant bells. "Oh, that’s perfect! Look at them, acting like they’ve just seen the end of the world!”
The crowd was in a state of disarray. Some villagers were trying to figure out if this was an omen of doom, while others were painting the enormous rubber chicken. A particularly brave child had scaled the statue and was now attempting to ride it, much to the horror of his parents.
But as the minutes dragged on, Arcanis felt her amusement waning again.
The chicken just stood there—comical, yes—but stationary. It wasn’t causing the kind of long-lasting havoc she craved. The war below had already turned into a nonsensical mess, and the baker, after several failed attempts, had finally caught one of his runaway loaves.
She drummed her fingers against her armrest, her grin fading. "No one's even fainted yet. Is that it? That’s all they can muster?"
The vibrant energy that had crackled around her like a storm dimmed slightly. She shifted her gaze, observing as the armies on the field stumbled back into their tents, retreating under the strange sky. In the capital, the queen’s council debated whether the honey rain was a divine blessing or a culinary catastrophe.
And the giant rubber chicken just stood there, unmoving. When suddenly... It begin shooting lasers out of it's eyes, vaporizing several people in the crowd as everyone shifted into frantic panic.
Arcanis chortled at the occurrence, "And that's what complete randomness is for!" She commented between laughs, observing the mayhem unfold with glee. The chicken statue's life was unfortunately short lived, as eventually it got hit by a massive rock from a catapult, smashing it to pieces. The surviving townsfolk cheered at it's destruction as Arcanis frowned, having her entertainment ended so abruptly.
Arcanis groaned and stretched her arms above her head, kicking away a stray asteroid floating by. "Alright, this is officially boring. Again."
She rose from her stardust chaise, her glowing form flickering with new energy as she dusted off her outfit. "Time to find a new sandbox."
She raised a hand, tracing a complex sigil in the air, and as she did, a tear in the fabric of reality began to open—a portal swirling with shifting shades of violet and blue. Beyond it lay the multiverse, a vast expanse of unknown realms and possibilities. Endless worlds, countless realities, and infinite potential for her to stir into delicious, unpredictable chaos.
"Alright then," Arcanis murmured to herself, stepping forward with a dramatic twirl towards the shimmering portal, a playful smirk on her face. "Let's see what the rest of existence has to offer. Maybe I’ll find a universe where I’m the one getting surprised for once."
With a wink to no one in particular, she strolled into the portal without a second thought, her laughter trailing in her wake.
As the gateway closed behind her, sealing the bubble reality from her influence, the kingdom of Ilvana seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. But somewhere else, a new maelstrom was about to begin.
[Sarah Evens PT1]
Diary Entry:
October 21st, 2110
Dear Diary,
So, it finally happened. My first day of college. I know, it’s not like I didn’t see this coming. But still, stepping into the halls of the New Horizons University for the first time as a student felt… different. You’d think growing up in Cassini would make this feel like just another phase of life, but nope. Everything’s new, and I’ve barely figured out where anything is yet.
Honestly, I’m not sure what I expected. Maybe something to magically make me feel ready? Spoiler: didn’t happen.
Today was mostly orientation stuff—nothing exciting. I spent half of it waiting for my schedule to sync with the central hub (why does it always take forever?), and the other half hoping I wouldn’t embarrass myself in front of a hundred strangers. But I survived. Guess that’s something.
Tomorrow, though, things get real. Classes, actual assignments, and… whatever else comes with being a college student on Titan. I still can’t believe I’m doing this.
======
The day started like any other. The soft hum of the air circulators in her dorm blended with the muffled sounds of the city coming to life. The artificial lights above shifted into a warm glow, mimicking the start of the day, though Titan’s hazy orange sky outside never really changed. But she didn’t need to see it to know it was there.
She dragged herself out of bed, her feet finding the soft carpet. "Day two," she muttered to herself. No big deal, right?
Her AI wristband pinged to life as soon as she stood, *Good morning, Sarah. Welcome to your second day at the University.* The voice was smooth, calm—too calm for her taste, especially with the nerves already creeping in.
“Yeah, yeah. Remind me later.”
The AI dimmed into standby mode as she went about getting ready. The usual routine—throw on the uniform, check her tablet, try to look somewhat awake. But as she glanced at her reflection in the small wall mirror, she couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to change. Not because she was in a new place—she’d been here her whole life—but because this was the start of something bigger. College, independence, maybe even figuring out what she wanted to do with the rest of her life.
The dorm was small, like every other in the student wing, just enough space for a bed, a desk, and a window overlooking the sprawling city outside. It wasn’t home, but it would be for the next few years.
She made her way out into the hallway of the student wing, tablet in hand, passing by several people and waving 'hi' to some, she reached the main campus area, it was an enclosed dome-like structure with a glass ceiling, it was lined with paths and trees and littered with seating areas and an outdoor stage. After several moments she arrived in class, the classroom was wide open, filled with flexible, modular furniture that could be moved and rearranged however the students wanted. Some desks were clustered together, where small groups were chatting and working on shared screens, while others were scattered across the room on their own custom-assembled desk.
In the center of the room was a low circular seating area—almost like a gathering place. She guessed this was where group discussions or projects happened. Around the perimeter were collaborative zones with interactive boards, some already covered in half-finished projects or group brainstorming sessions, and quiet, the corners of the classroom were semi-enclosed spaces designed for individual reflection or focus.
She walked over to one of the groups surrounding a board.
"Hey guys, I just wanted to ask when the professor will get here?"
"He'll be here in a few minutes. Oh and hi, my name's Josh, you?" A blond guy wearing jeans and a black T-shirt answered.
"I'm Serah, it's a pleasure to meet you Josh, and everyone else too." She mentions as the group glances at her
"Great to meet you too Sarah, wanna join us before the professor arrives? we were just discussing the agency of individuals within a democratic society." A girl with green hair trousers and a crop top said.
"Oh, sounds cool, but no thanks, I'm still brushing up on my PolSci basics" She stated right as the professor entered the room.
As Serah turned around, the professor strolled into the room, exuding an air of relaxed confidence. He was wearing a bright blue jacket with some kind of geometric pattern across it, black pants, and sneakers—far from the stiff, formal look Serah had imagined. His hair, short and a little messy, matched his casual demeanor. He gave the room a playful grin as he raised his hand in a friendly wave.
“Hey everyone! Hope you’re all ready to dive into some political theory this morning. Or, at the very least, I hope you've had enough coffee to pretend you're ready!” A few chuckles and smiles spread through the class, immediately lightening the mood.
Serah found herself smiling, too, as she slid into a seat, placing her tablet on the desk. It synced with the central system, lighting up to display her materials. The other students quieted down, but the atmosphere remained loose, casual.
The professor walked toward the middle of the room, near the circular seating area. “Alright, I’m Professor Callen, and welcome to Political Systems and Theories—a class where we’re definitely not going to just bore you with old dusty theories. Instead, we’re going to shake things up a bit. Today, I want you all to start questioning the world around you. Ask the big ‘why’ and ‘how.’ Think of this as a space where nothing is sacred, except good ideas.”
He tossed his jacket onto a nearby chair and glanced around with a mischievous look. “Now, I know this subject can feel like swimming through a sea of dry textbooks, but trust me—it’s way more interesting when you start peeling back the layers. Every system we live in, from government to schools, affects our freedom and choices. So why not challenge them?”
Serah felt the tension she didn’t even realize was building start to ease. This wasn’t the rigid, intimidating class she’d feared. The professor's approach was more like a conversation than a lecture. He clearly wanted them to think for themselves, not just nod along.
Professor Callen pointed to the interactive boards around the room, where various prompts and images had started flashing. “You’ll see a few scenarios up on the boards. I want you to grab one that grabs you back. Maybe it’s the impact of AI on voting systems, or how resources are distributed in space colonies, or even something as weird as: ‘What if pizza delivery was run by a collective government?’” The class laughed, and even Serah couldn’t help but smirk at that.
“Seriously, though,” he continued, “pick something that interests you and dig in. There’s no wrong answer here—only questions. Work together, work solo, whatever suits you. By the end of class, I want to hear some wild theories, and if anyone can stump me with a question, extra points!”
Several students got up with renewed energy, heading toward the boards. Serah scrolled through her tablet’s synced options: The Role of AI in Modern Governance, Equity in Extraterrestrial Resource Management, and Civic Dynamism. She hovered over one option that seemed familiar, but after Professor Callen’s intro, she found herself wanting to take on something that would really make her think.
With a small smile and a bit more confidence, Serah stood up and made her way toward one of the free boards, ready to see what she could come up with.
[Lily Cortez - Part 1: Into the Arena]
The sharp scent of polished metal and recycled air hit Lily as she stepped into the grand hall of the Cassini Conference Center. Her heels clicked against the smooth, dark floor, echoing louder than she would have liked, but the noise was drowned out by the hum of voices filling the massive room. Above her, the banners of the Saturnian Conservative Party filled with slogans and the party’s insignia—an image of Saturn with a star.
It was surreal. Her first political conference, and not just any conference. This was the event of the year for the Saturnian Conservative Party, and somehow, she had made it here. At just 22 years old, a junior member of the party, she stood among political heavyweights, strategists, and the people who shaped the future of the Saturnian System. She had always pictured herself in this world, but now that she was here, standing in the middle of it all, it felt so much larger than she had imagined.
“Lily! There you are,” a voice called out from behind her. She turned to see Jordan, a senior member of the party and one of her mentors. He was smiling, his dark suit perfectly pressed, but his eyes were already scanning the crowd, his mind always on politics.
“Hey, Jordan,” she said, trying to match his calm demeanor, even as her heart raced a little faster. She adjusted the lapel of her blazer, reminding herself to breathe. She had rehearsed this. She was ready.
“First conference, huh? It’s something, isn’t it?” he asked, glancing up at the banners before his gaze settled back on her. “You’ll get used to it. Just take it all in. There’s a lot to learn, and plenty of people to meet. Today’s mostly the icebreaker, but don’t forget—people are always watching.”
Lily nodded, her eyes flicking toward the crowd of well-dressed party members and officials, all mingling with practiced ease. Everyone here seemed to know someone. She spotted the Chair of the Conservative Youth Wing in conversation with a prominent council member, and just beyond them, a group of party strategists, laughing casually but no doubt discussing serious matters beneath the surface. She wasn’t exactly an outsider, but it was hard not to feel like one.
“I won’t forget,” she replied, her voice steady, though her thoughts were already racing. She couldn’t afford to slip up—not here. Not with so many eyes, like Jordan had said. She wasn’t just representing herself. She was representing the future of the Saturnian Conservative Party, and she knew that the older members were looking for fresh faces to carry on the party’s message in a world that was rapidly changing.
Jordan leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “Later today, you’ll get a chance to introduce yourself to the core leadership. Stay sharp. Be confident, but listen more than you speak. They’ll want to see that you’re here for the right reasons.”
Lily straightened, her nerves giving way to a flicker of determination. “I understand. I’m ready.”
Jordan smiled and gave her a small nod. “Good. I’ll catch up with you after the morning sessions. Don’t be afraid to mingle.”
With that, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving Lily standing at the edge of the political whirlpool. She took a deep breath, then began to move, weaving her way through the throng of people. The voices around her were a mix of familiar political jargon and personal introductions, an undercurrent of ambition driving every conversation.
As she moved, Lily overheard snippets of heated debates—discussions on space trade regulations, immigration policies between the moons, and the inevitable question of Titan’s political domination. The issues she’d studied felt real here, alive in a way that textbooks could never capture. These weren’t just theories—they were shaping the future of her home.
But it wasn’t long before the weight of the moment hit her. She spotted a group of junior members like herself, huddled near one of the holo-boards displaying party stats and projected wins in upcoming elections. For a brief moment, she considered joining them, but then something caught her eye—a tall, older man speaking to a small crowd near the front of the hall. Senator Alton Grant, one of the party’s most respected leaders.
Lily hesitated, then, with renewed resolve, started walking in his direction. It was time to take the plunge.
Her first real moment in the political arena had begun.
[Aurora Macnee - Part 1: Business as Usual.]
Aurora’s day started early. Long before the artificial lights gradually brightened in her dorm, she was already awake, her fingers flying across her tablet screen. Notes, simulations, equations—she was deep into her usual morning review. There was something comforting about those quiet hours before Herschel university bustled to life, when everything was still and she could be alone with her work.
She glanced at the digital clock, noting she had exactly twenty minutes before she had to leave for her first lecture. She saved her work, double-checked her neatly organized files, and, with a small sigh, tore herself away from the page of unsolved proofs she’d stayed up far too late trying to solve.
Aurora’s dorm room was minimal, almost stark, with only the essentials: her bed, a small desk, and a bookshelf filled with research papers, ancient textbooks, and the occasional well-loved science fiction novel. In the corner, her prized possession—a small, meticulously maintained model of an early interplanetary probe.
After a quick breakfast and a run-through of her daily planner, she was ready to go. It wasn’t that Aurora disliked talking to people, exactly—it was just that small talk took time away from real work, and her days were full enough. She slipped on her jacket, grabbed her tablet, and made her way across campus.
At Enceladus University, nestled beneath the thick ice shell of the moon, the halls were a blend of tech and practical design, engineered for life below the surface. The corridors were softly lit, with walls lined by screens and interactive panels displaying everything from class schedules to the latest research updates. She knew most of the other students by sight, but the faculty members—those she could talk to all day.
Aurora’s first stop was her Quantum Mechanics class. Today they were covering particle entanglement and nonlocality—one of her favorite topics. As she entered the classroom, she headed straight for her usual seat at the front, tablet already out and ready for notes. The other students filtered in, and a few even greeted her, but she only nodded back, too absorbed in her work to do more than that.
When the professor finally arrived and began the lecture, Aurora was laser-focused, jotting down every word, every equation, every tangent. She loved the thrill of the unknown that physics offered—the sense that with each class, she was one step closer to unraveling the secrets of the universe. Sometimes, she stayed after class to ask about additional readings or concepts that she’d been mulling over, and today was no exception.
“Professor Hale,” she called as the class ended, catching up with him as he collected his notes. “About the implications of entanglement on information theory—do you think we’re close to finding a way to apply this in practical computation?”
The professor’s face lit up, clearly pleased by her interest. They spent the next few minutes in a lively exchange, delving into speculative territory that made Aurora’s mind race. It was moments like these that made her feel completely alive.
Afterward, she was off to the research lab where she assisted with a project on low-temperature superconductors. It was part of a graduate program that allowed top undergrads to work with grad students on real research, and Aurora took her role seriously. She spent hours there every day, meticulously logging data, adjusting the cooling units, and running tests. While her lab mates liked to talk and joke around to pass the time, Aurora remained mostly quiet, her attention fixed on the task at hand.
Lunch was usually a solo affair, her tray balanced on one hand while she swiped through research papers or solved problems with the other. Today’s topic: recent advancements in dark energy detection. She could read all day if she allowed herself, but after half an hour, it was back to the labs.
Her afternoons were dedicated to self-study or tutoring sessions, where she sometimes helped struggling classmates. Though she was an introvert by nature, she found satisfaction in explaining complex concepts in a way that made them more accessible. There was something rewarding about watching someone’s eyes light up as they finally understood a difficult theory.
When the day finally wound down, Aurora headed to the observation room, a small but cozy spot on the upper levels where students could watch Saturn’s rings glimmering faintly in the distance. She often ended her day here, a quiet ritual that let her unwind and reflect. She’d sink into one of the chairs, tablet in hand, running through her notes or catching up on a paper that had been on her mind.
For Aurora, there was nothing else like it—this work, this life dedicated to questions bigger than herself. She wasn’t here for accolades or attention, and she wasn’t worried about impressing anyone. She was here for the pursuit of knowledge, to push boundaries and, if she was lucky, maybe to be the one to find an answer no one else had.
As the lights dimmed, she knew she’d be up late, working through another set of equations, getting lost in another paper. It was a life that, to some, might seem quiet or even lonely, but to Aurora, it was exactly where she belonged.
OOC: Just to know, my account seems to have been hacked on discord. Just block it.
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