Damon's jaw clenched as he looked out over the neon-soaked future Earth.
Year: 2124.
Even the sky was synthetic now—layered with anti-radiation filters and ever-glowing drones pretending to be stars. Civilization had advanced, yes. But humanity? It had devolved. Truth was data, loyalty was currency, and power flowed not from titles but from leverage.
The Vale family once stood at the center of that system.
Now, Damon stood alone.
He adjusted the cufflink on his cheap blazer—an imitation of his father's style—and stepped through the rusted gates of the once-impenetrable Vale estate. Ivy choked the walls. The biometric locks sparked weakly, no longer synced to any central authority. The system that had once guarded kings now struggled to recognize a forgotten son.
His footsteps echoed through the marble corridor. Dust caked the floor where once politicians, billionaires, and warlords bowed.
The world had erased the Vale name. But Damon had never forgotten.
In the basement, behind a wall of optical camouflage and biometric firewalls, sat a vault untouched for over a decade. A relic of a forgotten empire—and a promise his father made the night he vanished.
"When you lose everything, Damon… unlock the Balance."
That night, Damon was thirteen. By morning, the family was declared traitors. Assets seized. His mother detained. Sister disappeared. Father? Ghosted from every network. Damon had spent years surviving: scraping under aliases, hacking for food credits, sleeping in tech junkyards and abandoned satellites.
But he remembered the vault. And the password.
VALE_ΔX712_AUTHORITY_OVERRIDE
A soft click. The door hissed open.
The chamber inside was dark—sterile, cold, and humming with dormant potential. Damon stepped in. The moment his foot crossed the threshold, the room came alive.
Dozens of neural filaments reached out like metallic vines, scanning his retina, pulse, and brainwave signature. Then, a voice—smooth, genderless, and unnervingly calm—rippled through the air.
"User: Damon Vale. Bloodline verified. Neural pattern confirmed. Access granted to the Balance Protocol."
A flicker of light. Then a cascade of shimmering data formed midair—a minimalist interface that radiated silent power.
And then, another voice. Clearer. Sharper. Alive.
"Welcome, Master Vale. I am EIRYS — Enhanced Integrated Regulatory Yottascale Sentinel. Your world-balancing interface is now online."
Damon blinked. A hundred emotions surged at once—rage, awe, disbelief, grief. He almost spoke, but the system continued:
[The Balance System is now active.]
Core Metrics Unlocked:
Karma: 0
Leverage: 0
Influence: 0
World Simulation AI: OnlineVault Intelligence: Synced to user. Awaiting primary command.
Damon stepped back, overwhelmed. This wasn't just some inheritance. This wasn't a gift. It was a weapon—one designed for control, not survival.
And now it was his.
He looked up at the digital veil above him, fists clenched.
"You took everything from me," he whispered to the world beyond those walls. "Now I'll take everything back."
Behind him, the vault sealed shut once more.
The game had begun.