The Moonlit Path

Longof stood as one of the most populous cities in the 8 Superentis, ranked among the top 15 in sheer size and vibrancy. Yet, what made it truly unique wasn’t its scale but its identity. Unlike the sleek, hyper-advanced hubs of Grenik and other major cities, Longof held onto a deep sense of nativity and cultural roots. Its streets brimmed with a mix of ancient charm and modern innovation. The architecture leaned toward earthy tones, stone façades blending seamlessly with advanced solar glass, giving the city a distinct personality.

Perhaps the most notable feature of Longof, however, was its vehicles. Here, cars weren’t relics of the past; they were an integral part of the city’s character. Dubbed Moonvehicles, they operated solely at night, fueled by both Montlaif energy and solar reserves collected during the day. These vehicles, shimmering under the moonlight, embodied the harmony between nature and technology that the 8 Superentis prided themselves on. Special editions of Moonvehicles, crafted for government officials and elite forces, operated without tracking systems—tools of unrestrained freedom in a world of intricate oversight.

For Wrex, arriving in Longof carried a sense of intrigue. His immediate goal was clear: to undergo the rigorous training regime required to obtain the coveted TSM license, granting access to one of these special Moonvehicles. Yet, as he stepped onto the cobblestone streets of Longof, bathed in the glow of streetlights designed to mimic the moon’s phases, he felt something was different here. The city exuded a serene beauty, but beneath that lay a subtle dissonance, as if its harmony masked an undercurrent of something unnatural.

Taking a moment to settle in, Wrex wandered through the city, exploring its charm. He stumbled upon a broadcast playing on a massive glass screen in the town square, detailing the history of Montlaif and how it had brought the world to its current state. The visuals were breathtaking—images of innovation, unity, and progress—but Wrex’s attention shifted to the people around him. Their eyes glowed faintly, reflecting the glass screens, their expressions unnaturally placid. It was a subtle detail, but one that gnawed at him.

Rizor’s words echoed in his mind: “Not every bright side shines.”

That evening, unable to shake the unease, Wrex ventured out for a night walk. The city transformed under the moonlight, its streets quieter but more enchanting. As he strolled along, lost in thought, a sudden collision jolted him back to reality.

A girl, dressed in dark, flowing attire that seemed to merge with the shadows, had bumped into him. She looked up, her eyes sharp and mischievous. “You’re the one, huh?” she said, her voice carrying a mix of sarcasm and intrigue. “Well, not too bad, I guess.”

Wrex blinked, startled. “What do you mean? Who are you?”

The girl smirked but didn’t answer directly. Instead, she leaned in slightly, her tone shifting to something almost cryptic. “You see, the Moon here is not the same as the Sun there. So make sure to check it out.”

Before Wrex could respond, she turned and walked away, her figure dissolving into the darkened streets.

He stood there for a moment, puzzled. Her words lingered, cryptic yet intriguing. What did she mean about the Moon and the Sun? And why had she seemed so certain that he was “the one”?

As he headed back to his lodging, the night felt heavier, as though the shadows themselves held secrets waiting to unravel. The next day, his training for the TSM license would begin, but Wrex couldn’t shake the feeling that his path in Longof was already veering into uncharted territory.

The following day arrived swiftly, bringing with it a sense of purpose and anticipation for Wrex. His goal was clear: to begin the training needed to earn his TSM license and take one step closer to unraveling the bigger mysteries that haunted him.

Facilis—a world where hunger, war, and poverty had been eradicated—was hailed as a utopia, the pinnacle of human achievement. People here lived lives of comfort and safety, their every need met by the systems that governed society. Education was abundant, ensuring every citizen was well-informed about the past—at least, the parts of history deemed fit for them to know. The uglier truths of human history, the full details of wars, crimes, and rebellions, were carefully censored to maintain peace.

Why would they need to know? the system seemed to whisper in its design. For most, this curated knowledge was enough, allowing them to embrace the easy, slow-paced unity that defined Facilis. But not everyone was content with that way of life.

Among the shadows of this perfect society, whispers of dissent grew. The systems designed to ensure safety—Point Touch Zero, the constant tracking, and crime prevention algorithms—felt like shackles to some. Every citizen’s movements were marked, traced, and recorded, leaving no room for secrets or defiance.

Rumors circulated in hushed tones about individuals who sought to break free of these constraints. Some said they were the True Residents, a shadowy group believed to have rejected the systems of Facilis. Others speculated that disillusioned civilians were conspiring to bring down the very structure that held their society together. No one knew for sure.

But the truth? It wasn’t as far away as it seemed.

Walking into the training facility, Wrex pushed these thoughts aside. The facility itself stood at the heart of Longof—a sleek, towering structure that seemed to pulse faintly with energy, as if it were alive. Inside, the air was unnaturally cool, and the lighting felt sterile, giving the space a faintly artificial feel. He joined a group of nine others in a waiting hall, all prospective trainees like himself.

At first glance, the group seemed ordinary, but as Wrex looked closer, something felt off. Their movements were stiff, their expressions unnervingly neutral, as though they were all operating on the same invisible script. Their eyes, faintly glazed, gave them an unnatural appearance—as if they were drunk on something or perhaps not entirely human. For a fleeting moment, Wrex’s skin crawled, the thought crossing his mind: “Robots manifesting as human flesh?”

He shook the thought away, uneasy but determined not to let his imagination run wild. One of the trainees caught his attention. There was something eerily familiar about him, though Wrex couldn’t quite place it. Their eyes met for a brief second, and a flicker of recognition sparked in Wrex’s mind.

“In a new city, there’s no way, right?” he thought, brushing the feeling aside.

The doors to the training hall slid open seamlessly, and their mentor entered, a tall figure with sharp features and a commanding presence. His voice was calm but carried authority as he addressed the group.

“Welcome to the TSM training program,” the mentor began, his eyes scanning each of them. “Earning your license will not be easy. It requires discipline, adaptability, and the will to push beyond limits. You’ve been chosen for a reason, and today is the start of a journey that will test you in every possible way.”

Wrex barely registered the words, his mind drifting momentarily. The girl from last night was nowhere to be seen, but her cryptic words still echoed in his head. “The Moon here is not the same as the Sun there.”

What did she mean? Why had she approached him? These questions gnawed at the edges of his thoughts, but he pushed them aside. For now, his focus had to remain on the tasks ahead. Whatever lay in wait for him beyond the training could only be faced if he succeeded here first.

As the mentor outlined the structure of the training program, Wrex’s thoughts momentarily drifted again. His mind swirled with flashes of Rizor’s warning, the strange events in Longof, and the creeping sense that the world around him wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. He felt like a thread caught in an enormous web, every movement pulling him deeper into a tangle of unknowns.

But there was no time to dwell on such thoughts. The tasks would begin soon, and his true journey loomed ever closer—a journey that would prepare him for the war Rizor had hinted at, or perhaps something far worse.

The mentor finished his speech with a firm, “Prepare yourselves.” The air in the room seemed to grow heavier as the trainees exchanged uncertain glances. Wrex clenched his fists, his determination solidifying. Whatever came next, he had to succeed.

As the group was led into the next room to begin their first task, Wrex’s eyes caught a flicker of movement in the shadows outside the glass walls. For a moment, he thought he saw the silhouette of the strange girl from the previous night, but when he blinked, she was gone.

The weight of his doubts and fears pressed down on him, but he knew there was no turning back. Time was moving faster than he realized, and the perfect world of Facilis was far more fragile than it appeared.