Dystopia, Broken Dreams, Emptiness (Volume 1)

In the year 221X, the world evolved exactly how humanity had envisioned many centuries ago. Flying cars, hoverboards, towering skyscrapers, robots, and magnetic bullet trains were now a reality. Yet, the pinnacle of this technological revolution was the groundbreaking brain implant called iVision, created by the tech titan, Cranberry. This marvel allowed users to summon an interactive, invisible screen, visible only to them, functioning like a mobile device but directly integrated into their minds. 

However, not everyone was fortunate enough to partake in this futuristic privilege. Only the wealthy could benefit from this, deepening a massive digital divide that affected nearly half of the world's population. This gap was not merely social, but economical too. Those with iVision enjoyed elevated societal status, enhanced access to their daily needs, and lucrative career opportunities, even securing roles in the government. This disparity rippled into educational institutions, where the basic foundations are built upon equality, but it was not possible under the weight of economic division. Students began to scorn one another based on their family's wealth, creating a large rift with each passing day.

At Little Angels Academy, an educational institution located on the Island of Albion, this divide manifested starkly. Students were segregated not by academies but by the wealth their families could administer and contribute to the school. 

This birthed two labels... 

Angels (A) for the affluent.

 Fallen Angels (FA) for those less fortunate.

The distinction seeped into every facet of school life. Teachers turned a blind eye to this formation. And parents? What to speak of parents? They too, were abiding by the division in their daily lives. For FA students, discrimination, both verbal and physical, was a harsh reality, and resistance often proved futile.

The cost of fighting back outweighed the rewards.

Recognizing an opportunity amidst the chaos, Cranberry tightened its grip on the market, monopolizing the field without a single opposition. In collaboration with governments, they unveiled...

Project: GAIA. 

A supposed solution to bridge the digital divide within a decade. The initiative promised two new iVision modes.

iVision Pro. 

For existing users seeking upgrades.

iVision Lite. 

For those previously excluded.

The announcement sparked global excitement, with countless preorders for iVision Lite, as many view it as their long-awaited chance for a better life, for themselves and their families. 

Their golden ticket had finally arrived.

Distribution of the new models was slated to begin in 222X, starting from the Island of Albion, home to Cranberry's headquarters, before expanding on a global scale. This staggered rollout, however, agitated international customers, who flooded social media platforms like Skybook, Tiktracc and Y, voicing out their complaints about delayed access. Although the negativity spread like a fierce storm, Cranberry saw it as yet another opportunity to capitalise on this chaos. In response, they introduced paid distribution tiers, ranging from the most expensive to the least expensive.

Lightning (Tier I).

Flash (Tier II).

Speedy (Tier III). 

Standard (Tier IV).

Customers who opted for these tiers could secure earlier delivery dates, with Tier 1 offering the faster service. Meanwhile, those who chose not to purchase a tier faced even longer delays.

The wealthy, existing iVision customers, fearing a loss of their elite status, eagerly preordered the iVision Pro. Leveraging their influence through business connections and market manipulation, they expedited their deliveries. This premium model boasted new features such as a faster processor, customizable screen panels and real-time background adjustment. While not revolutionary, it offered the wealthy a path to maintain their distinction from the masses. As a result, the premium models rolled out the following year, while customers who purchased the stand model, despite paying the distribution tiers, faced delays spanning several years.

Once again, the divide persisted.

This blatant inequality ignited global protests, with people demanding an end to discrimination. The movement gained momentum across social media, driven by impassioned youth and opportunistic influencers chasing clouts, whilst amplifying awareness.

The people wanted a change. 

A change which would prosper with equality and new opportunities. 

But the flames of revolution were short-lived, unfortunately, only lasting a mere few months.

Governments, enticed by Cranberry's wealth and influence, chose suppression over reform. RoboCops were deployed, protestors were arrested and charged, and, just like that, one by one, the movement's numbers dwindled to nothing. The final nail in the coffin was delivered by the wealthy elites, who threatened to fire or blacklist any employees participating in the protests. For many workers, the fear of unemployment and the struggle to survive in already dire conditions silenced their dissent. Over time, the movement was wiped out completely, its events buried as though that chapter of history had never existed.

Years later, Project GAIA's mission was complete, but the promises of inclusivity remained unfulfilled. The wealthy basked in the privileges of the IVision Pro, while people equipped with the premium model continued to enjoy the fruits of their exalted status, while the rest, experienced only a sliver of technological advancement.

Year 232X.

The tradition of dividing Angels and Fallen Angels continued at Little Angels Academy. Yet, the new generation of FAs, though still disadvantaged, had learned to adapt and find their footing in this dystopian digital world. 

Amongst the As, however, not everyone favoured the divide nor shared the elitist views of their peers. Some began to question the foundation of such disparity, inspired by the wise speaker's words. One boy, in particular, stood out, his eyes glimmered with a hunger for understanding and his unique views would often find themselves dismissed by his classmates with laughter.

Kaito Lionheart. 

16 years old.

 5'9. 

Black hair. 

Fair skin. 

Division: A.

Despite his privileged status, Kaito stood apart. From a very young age, he rejected iVision implants, a decision that set him apart and often made him the target of ridicule among his peers. This defiance also created a rift between him and his father, a dedicated Cranberry employee who viewed Kaito's refusal as a rejection of opportunity. Kaito's father, in his frustration, was ready to disown him, but with his mother's heartfelt pleas, that drastic action was postponed until Kaito turned eighteen.

Kaito adored his mother deeply. She never pressured him, always encouraging him to live the life he desired, free from external influence. One memory that always lingered in his heart, was her gentle voice comforting him after the heated exchange with his father.

"Kaito, what's wrong dear? Awh, don't cry. It's okay. Don't think too badly of your father, alright? He is just worried about you, that's all. But, listen closely, Kaito. No matter what anyone else says, do what you think is right. You do not have to follow or be swayed by others. Always trust your heart. And if you ever decide to make decisions that others don't favour, remember, your mother will always, always be here, supporting you. Because you will always be my precious little baby." 

Kaito's mother, originally from the Land of Edo across the world, had moved to the Island of Albion to work on Cranberry's iVision project. There she met and fell in love with Kaito's father. Like her, Kaito had jet-black hair, a feature that often earned him the name 'foreigner' by his classmates. But Kaito paid no heed, as he cherished his mother's heritage. 

When Kaito turned 10, things had taken a wrong turn. His beloved mother had passed away. She had been his safe haven, his guiding light. Without her, Kaito sank into despair, questioning the very purpose of his existence.

What is the point of living?

He shed a river of tears, retreating to a corner of his room, as grief consumed him. His father, also stricken with his own sorrow, mourned loudly, his wails echoed through the walls. Yet amidst his grief, Kaito's father grew increasingly anxious. He pondered on a cruel possibility, that if he too, were to leave this world someday, what would become of Kaito? 

Would he rise to prominence, like his father, with a well-paid job, and a nice caring family? 

Or a beggar, who can't make ends meet, struggling to live off their day-to-day lives?

Determined to secure his son's future, Kaito's father took an aggressive approach, relentlessly urging him to adopt the iVision implant. Day after day, he pressed the issue, but Kaito remained steadfast in his choice. Years passed with no success, and eventually, Kaito's father had no choice but to give up. Resigned, he moved away, leaving Kaito to live on his own. Despite the physical distance, he continued to support Kaito financially until his eighteenth birthday, a promise he made to his late wife and one he intended to honour fully.

In most countries, iVision implants were not mandatory, but societal pressures have made them almost impossible to avoid. For Kaito, however, there was no temptation. He had no intention of conforming anytime soon.

"..."

"Hey Kaito, what are you pondering about?"

"Don't tell me."

"It's that tuna and beans spud!"

"!"

A feminine voice catches Kaito's attention...