Reincarnated as a Human
Prologue: Echoes of a Divided Realm
It's the year 2050 TLR. In the vibrant, yet unsettling, realm of Arcadia, reality itself seems woven from the threads of technological triumph and the insidious tendrils of a hunger for power. But beneath the gleaming surface, more lurks than meets the human eye. A city that once stood as a unified entity has fractured, cleaved by the sharp edge of socialism, now coexisting in an uneasy, fractured domain. Here, those in control wield a power that is not truly their own, a stolen glory once destined for benevolence, now twisted and exploited by mere mortals. This immense, appropriated force has propelled the city into an era of unprecedented progress, yet, as many are beginning to discover, the human heart, left unchecked, proves to be deceptively treacherous.
The prestigious New Arcadia City gleams like a polished jewel, a testament to unchecked ambition and technological marvel. Its sleek skyscrapers are bathed in the ethereal glow of bright Celestial Energy, the very lifeblood that powers its every advancement. For years, Arcadian citizens have laid the foundations of this burgeoning utopia, blissfully unaware of the profound, unseen forces at play behind the scenes. However, recent, rapid progressions have sent the Celestial Realm's radars into a frenzy, alerting them to the pervasive use of cyber-enhancement accessories across Arcadia. These devices, born from the wildest reaches of human imagination, have become ubiquitous, evolving from simple wearables into sophisticated robots and countless other innovations. The New City of Arcadia pulses with a collective sense of accomplishment, streamlined reliability, and even manufactured companionship, built on a foundation they don't fully comprehend.
The sky, once a boundless expanse, has become the exclusive domain of the ultra-wealthy. Daily commutes no longer touch the ground. Instead, aerial pathways, luminous ribbons of light, weave between towering structures like glowing silk threads, creating a mesmerizing tapestry above the city. Even at high noon, the lavender daylight skies shimmer with visible constellations – a peculiar, beautiful quirk caused by the city's profound reliance on celestial energy. The most coveted mode of transport for the elite are the Rover Turbo Boots, sleek, chrome-plated exosoles with retractable wheels for seamless gliding and twin jet boosters mounted behind the calves, offering wearers a powerful burst of aerial propulsion. These are more than just transport; they are potent status symbols, flaunted by tech-influencers in limited editions like "Venus Vortex" and "Obsidian Phantom". Floating mid-air lounges, known as Aether Havens, further punctuate the skyline, orbiting skyscrapers like elegant, pulsating jellyfish. Crafted from translucent alloys, they throb with ambient hues, offering guests a serene retreat where they can sip molecular teas in anti-grav hammocks, watching the silent ballet of aerial traffic. Below this aerial spectacle, the Earth-class skyscrapers stand as monuments to geometric perfection – stark white, clean-lined, and humming with automated greenery systems. There are no visible wires, no grime; just seamless, sterile integration. Every system in New Arcadia City, from transit and waste management to commerce and even fashion, is meticulously regulated by the omnipresent Arcadia Patrols, ensuring that everything operates with the precision of a finely tuned symphony. In this meticulously controlled city, chaos is not merely suppressed; it is a forgotten myth.
The mysterious advancement in technology has swept through the realm with irresistible force, sending cultivating shockwaves through every living being in Arcadia. Yet, most citizens remain blissfully unaware of the true source of these marvels. They breathe freely, thriving on the very existence of this celestial energy, while for others, it has become the bane of their existence. A great separation has occurred, influenced not by the living, but by the choices and perspectives of the long-deceased.
New Arcadia City, with its towering monuments to progress, wholeheartedly embraces this cyber lifestyle and its high-tech advancements. Its counterpart, The Undergrid, however, has chosen a different path. This divided part of the city clings fiercely to its origins, resisting aggressive technological progression in a bid to preserve its authenticity and values. Here, a diverse array of humans can be found, many labeled as "pillagers" and "nomads" by the outside world. Yet, within the sprawling, shadowed expanse of the Undergrid, such labels hold no sway. All that matters is living life on one's own terms, finding purpose and freedom outside the rigid confines of New Arcadia. It is also rumored that the Undergrid is home to the first and only cyborg, a solitary figure hidden from the bustling city life, a true runaway and outcast who has, paradoxically, captivated the hearts of many who have chosen to call this strange, resilient place home.
The Undergrid is a realm of stark contrasts: a strange, sprawling labyrinth filled with outdated technology and the skeletal remains of failed infrastructure. Situated at the farthest reaches of Arcadia, it creates an illusion of being an ever-expanding underground world, pushing deeper beneath the surface with every makeshift addition. Glitching old holographic neon advertisements flicker erratically, incongruous beacons in the gloom. In the dark alleyways, adventure awaits those brave enough to seek it, each opened door a new, uncertain path. A constant scent of smoke and wet grass hangs heavy in the air, a primal aroma that speaks of forgotten nature and persistent life. And at a certain hour, a peculiar perfume, both sweet and unsettling, wafts through the entire district, a subtle, pervasive scent that many living there use as an unconventional clock.
The previous President, Pedro Abstainace, harbored grand visions for Arcadia, shared only with his devoted scientific partner, Arnold Maximus. Together, they meticulously mapped out ambitious plans for the entire realm. To this day, the architectural remnants of their grand designs stand lopsided in the Undergrid, weathered monuments to a dream unfulfilled. No one has dared to dismantle them; they are considered a unique form of art, embodying the complex relationship between Pedro and Arnold from its hopeful genesis to its bitter end. Locals whisper that these moss-covered pathways and verdant ridges, teeming with mysterious biological secrets, are haunted by the very spirits of Pedro and Arnold, patiently awaiting the full realization of their utopian vision. Conversely, some elderly citizens of New Arcadia City hold a darker belief: that as long as the Undergrid's occupants stubbornly halt the city's full evolution, Arcadia is doomed to collapse, cursed by the very founders it defied. Yet, the majority of New Arcadia's elderly have embraced a new faith, confident that Pedro's son, Lawrence, now at the helm, will overcome these superstitious fears and lead the city to its ultimate destiny.
Many superstitious folk, however, have actively chosen the Undergrid as a place of solitude and a chance for a new beginning. It is a refuge from the sterile bustling of New Arcadia City, a sanctuary from its rigid rules and regulations that seem to dull the vibrancy of mundane life. Young and old alike have freely opted to slowly revive forgotten, abandoned buildings, transforming them into homes, or simply creating makeshift shelters, choosing to subsist on the raw, untamed resources that the Undergrid reluctantly offers.
An unspoken rule, a silent covenant, binds those who dwell in the Undergrid: they are on their own. They are not to seek aid from President Lawrence and the glittering elite of New Arcadia City, despite earlier promises of suitable advancements for all Arcadians. Both halves of the city guard their secrets fiercely. Those in New Arcadia City consider themselves the elite, moving with an almost arrogant pride and poise. Their simplified, AI-driven lives afford them ample leisure, allowing them to pursue expanded endeavors previously deemed impossible without advanced technology. And now, with President Lawrence Abstainace having taken the reins from his father, the young man has proven himself utterly devoted to his father's vision. He rules with an iron fist, driven by a relentless hunger to prove his worthiness, pushing Arcadia to unprecedented heights, often through unrealistic measures. Yet, the people of New Arcadia, blinded by the dazzling display of progress, are filled with joy and hope for an even more fruitful future under his leadership.
But what none of the Arcadians know, neither the glittering elite nor the defiant outcasts, is that their very existence is being weighed on ancient scales by Celestial Beings. These enigmatic entities have been observing the Arcadians closely for years from The Light Realm, a foundational plane from which all other realms derive and through which all things flow. The Light Realm strives to maintain universal balance, actively observing and interceding where necessary. Its existence remains a profound secret to most, known only to a select few… and now, to you.