A Future to Come Before

The lights of Grenik shimmered like a sea of stars, their brilliance a testament to the heights humanity had achieved. The air carried a subtle hum, an almost melodic resonance created by the advanced systems woven into the city’s infrastructure. Wrex stood beside Rizor, his old friend, who gazed out at the city with an expression that wavered between awe and something darker.

“It’s incredible, isn’t it?” Wrex began, breaking the silence. “The world… it’s almost perfect. All of this—it’s because of Montlaif. It feels like the pinnacle of everything good humanity could achieve.”

Rizor turned to him, a flicker of unease crossing his face. “It’s true, Wrex. Montlaif has brought peace, prosperity, and progress. But the problem with pinnacles is that they make people blind to the cracks forming beneath them.”

Wrex raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

Rizor hesitated before speaking, his voice dropping to a cautious whisper. “There’s a group—a powerful one—working on something that could change everything. They’re developing ways to push humanity even further, closer to perfection, or so they say. But their methods…” He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. “They want to replace crucial organs in people with advanced robotics, claiming it will preserve humanity for generations.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Wrex replied cautiously, though his gut told him Rizor wasn’t finished.

“It’s not just about preservation,” Rizor continued. “It’s about control. When people become more machine than human, who holds the reins? This group thinks they can dictate what humanity should be—and those who don’t fit their vision?” Rizor’s voice trailed off, but the implication was clear. “And Wrex… there are whispers of war on the horizon. Some of the Superentis don’t see eye to eye on this.”

Wrex’s gaze hardened as he absorbed the revelation. “War? After all this time? It seems impossible.”

“Does it?” Rizor asked. “Look around, Wrex. This peace feels unshakable, but nothing lasts forever.”

The conversation triggered a memory buried deep in Wrex’s mind.

He was back in the HSK training hall, sparring with his mentor, Errick. The older man’s movements were swift and deliberate, each strike designed to test Wrex’s resolve. Sweat dripped down Wrex’s face as he blocked a punch, countering with a move of his own.

“You’re improving,” Errick said, a rare smile breaking his usual stoic demeanor.

“Thanks,” Wrex replied, catching his breath.

It was then that he overheard the voices of the elders, their hushed tones carrying through the open hall.

“…it’s only a matter of time. The balance won’t hold forever…”

“…we must prepare. The future demands sacrifices…”

“…Montlaif might not be enough…”

The words blurred as Wrex strained to hear more, but Errick’s voice broke his focus. “Eyes on me, cadet,” the mentor barked, and the memory dissolved into the present.

Wrex shook his head, returning to the moment with Rizor. The two of them stood on a bridge overlooking Grenik. The city was breathtaking in its elegance, every building a masterpiece of design and function. The advanced glass facades projected vibrant images and information, blending seamlessly with the moonlit skyline. Yet for all its beauty, Wrex couldn’t shake the feeling that something was hidden beneath the surface.

“There’s more to this, isn’t there?” Wrex said finally, his tone low.

Rizor nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “You know, Wrex, I’ve known you for ages. You’ve always been different. Maybe it’s time you start embracing that.”

“What are you saying?”

“Maybe the time is upon you to take the next step,” Rizor said cryptically. “To jump some steps further if needed.”

Wrex frowned, but before he could press for clarification, Rizor continued. “For now, you need to focus. Keep training, and make sure you’re selected for the TSW.”

“The TSW?”

“The Special Weaponized group,” Rizor explained. “If there’s a war coming, Wrex, you’ll be on the front lines. And believe me, you’ll want to be ready. For your sake and for everyone else’s.”

The conversation ended abruptly as Rizor’s eyes darted around the area, his cautious demeanor returning. “We shouldn’t say more,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “The technology here… it doesn’t allow for crimes, but it doesn’t allow for secrets either. Someone might be listening.”

Wrex nodded reluctantly, his mind racing with questions that would have to wait. Rizor gave him a small, encouraging smile. “Stay sharp, Wrex. We’ll talk again soon.”

With that, Rizor turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Wrex alone under the glowing lights of Grenik.

The night air was cool as Wrex began walking again, his thoughts heavier than before. Rizor’s words lingered in his mind, fanning the embers of doubt that had been smoldering since he first set foot in the HSK.

“There’s more. There’s always more,” he thought, his resolve hardening. If a war was coming, if there were cracks in the perfect facade of Facilis, he needed to find them.

As he passed a sign pointing toward the city’s transit hub, Wrex’s eyes caught a name illuminated in soft, golden light: Longof.

The next stop in his journey.

As Wrex listened to Rizor's cryptic words, his thoughts wandered to the government’s strong influence over every aspect of life. Objects like Point Touch Zero, hailed as miraculous tools for ensuring safety and peace, stirred conflicting feelings within him. On the surface, they represented the pinnacle of human advancement, offering a secure and harmonious existence. Yet deep down, Wrex couldn’t shake the unsettling notion that these devices were not just safeguards but potential instruments of control, turning people into unwitting puppets in a carefully orchestrated system.

"The future is upon us," Wrex thought, staring out at the glittering cityscape of Grenik, "but is it really like it was long, long ago?" The present—Facilis—seemed to be perfect, a utopia without flaw. But perfection, he realized, could be its own prison. There is no written rule where it says, 'to be perfect is to be at your peak.' Thus, holding oneself in stasis is no different than being held hostage within your own mind.