Isla stepped out of her apartment and into the pulsing rhythm of the city. She inhaled the sharp, synthetic air of a "newly developed" world. A world rebuilt on alien bones and human ambition.
Years ago, beings from the sky came down to Earth. Isla only knew what her father had told her: when humanity got ahold of their technology, everything changed.
Advancements came fast. A new way of life was promised. A future brighter than anything humans had dreamed.
But progress always comes with a price.
Body modifications became the new plastic surgery. Transplants weren't just for failing organs anymore. They were fashion, status, survival. The evolution of mankind. The new world.
Then came war. Not over the tech. Just power. It always is. It's unclear what really started the war. And no one was allowed to speak about it…
Three generations of endless bloodshed reshaped the world, destroyed it, rebuilt it. Out of that chaos emerged what became known as Starborn Technology. An era of biotech that blurred the lines between man and machine.
Exoskeletons, nanotechnology, synthetic organs. With the right enhancements and the right body, people began developing abilities. Fire-breathers, kinetics, nanite control on a massive scale. Some could freeze objects to the point of shattering, others possessed strength and speed that defied physics.
But not everyone could unlock their potential. Two people with the same modifications might yield wildly different results. For most, enhancements were tools. For a rare few, they were weapons. Not all could fully unlock the potential.
To win the war, humanity pushed the limits and crossed lines they couldn't uncross.
They engineered Eyes.
Rare and powerful, these synthetic ocular systems granted extraordinary abilities. But they were unstable, dangerous. Eventually, they were banned. Most believed they were just myths or wartime propaganda. Counterfeit copies still circulated the globe—watered-down imitations. But none matched the real thing.
Isla knew better.
Her father had once held one of them. The God's Eye.
She knew the truth the rest of the world had buried.
The Eyes of war.
God's Eye: The rarest. Said to awaken the full potential of the user's modifications.
Control force, able to push and pull objects with raw energy. If not careful, the user can crush themselves.
Command vast swarms of nanobots, reshape them into weapons or explosives.
Eliminate all sensation of pain. Replace it with euphoria.
Users often became addicted to that feeling—lost in states of joy, rage, or mechanical trance. More machine than man.
---
Leviathan: An eye of intelligence, manipulation, and control.
Real-time access to any tech on the field: phones, drones, networks.
Decrypt any code, decipher any language.
Predict movements before they are enacted.
Master illusion—with eye contact, users could force hallucinations so vivid, victims killed their own allies thinking they were the enemy.
One user was said to have summoned a creature, a "demon," a massive entity that wiped out an entire battlefield in seconds.
By what Isla's father experienced, it might have been a creature or an entity from another dimension.
Her father had seen this creature used in the field.
Wiping out armies.
Wiping out cities.
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Laplace's Eye: Originally used for medical purposes. Eventually it was weaponized.
X-ray vision could detect machines, organs, and vulnerabilities.
Pinpoint enemies from miles away, see through solid structures. Some users reported glimpses of the future or the dead—leading many to madness.
Unsure if those around them were alive or dead. Some users would remove these eyes, not able to bear the things they were seeing. Their minds couldn't process it.
If they were able to see beyond this world, it must have been something so existential. For so many had gone mad and even committed suicide.
---
The street buzzed around Isla. Hovercars roared overhead. Traffic below crawled in a mess of noise pollution. The city was alive—or pretending to be.
Her father had fought for this world. Died for it. And what had become of those promises?
Only the ultra-wealthy could afford the most advanced modifications. Hovercars were luxury. Power and privilege were just high-tech ways to preserve old hierarchies.
To prevent another war, the elite claimed, not everyone could have everything. Equality, they said, was a threat to peace.
Cars still existed for the rest. Sometimes, the rich would descend just to show off, skimming their hovercars inches above the ground traffic out of spite.
The contrast in wealth was visible in every corner of the city. Towering, immaculate high-rise condos stood next to cramped apartments and deteriorating homes. Some buildings had rooftop pools, private tennis courts, even holographic gardens. Others had broken elevators and mold in the walls.
Everyone was chasing the same thing. Even if it meant using scrap parts.
The cost of next-gen biotech had become unreachable. Scarcity from decades of war made upgrades unaffordable. Even the poorest scraped together what they could, trading health for hope.
People drank more, smoked more.
Heavy drinkers.
"I'll just get a new liver."
Smokers.
"I'll buy lungs when I need them."
The lie was simple: anything broken could be replaced.
But Isla knew the truth.
Seventy-eight percent of the population suffered from disease, organ failure, or rejection. The biotech wasn't perfect—it was patchwork. And real, functioning human organs were more valuable than ever.
Isla was unmodified.
Purely human.
And that made her a target.
She lived in constant fear. Hiding the truth. Pretending. If the wrong person found out, she could disappear—trafficked, imprisoned, experimented on.
Or worse.
Forced into pregnancy. Again and again. So her genetically clean children could be harvested. Grown for parts.
She would never get to see them.