Saints in a Chip

/LEVEL 01

/Connecting...

“It’s not working!”

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" A chant surged from an invisible crowd, drowning out everything but the primal pulse of adrenaline in Jude's veins. He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow with his thumb, the salty warmth trailing down his cheek as he faced his foe.

“Why isn’t it working?”

Across the arena, the creature loomed—a massive black hound, its body armoured in glistening scales that absorbed the light. Each breath it took expelled wisps of smoke, its growl resonating like a warning bell, a sinister promise of violence.

Jude moved cautiously, circling the beast, his mind racing as he calculated his next move. The hound's eyes glared, and its muscles coiled, ready to spring.

As he moved, Jude locked his eyes again on the Eidolon and caught only the short glimpse of himself reflected in the creature’s eye. A ridiculous, pretty, unarmed boy with a chiselled jawline and dark brown hair hung in messy strands, a boyish appeal that seemed out of place in this hell. He was just an average Joe ready to face the hound.

Yet, despite the adrenaline coursing through him, he was stubborn—a trait his wife often teased him about—Jude didn’t finch at keeping his eyes locked on the creature, but once more, it didn’t work. It fucking didn’t work!

There was no connection.

The creature snapped him back with a bone-rattling roar. The hound launched itself, crashing through the railing that surrounded the arena. Jude's heart skipped a beat as time seemed to stretch.

"Activate cheat 369! Barbara, now!"

"Cheat activated."

In a flash, he thrust out his hand, unleashing a surge of invisible force. The creature slammed into the barrier, scales scraping against metal, a guttural yelp escaping its maw.

As it struggled to regain its footing, Jude seized the moment. He extended his other hand, a swift motion that felt like a tether binding him to the beast. Shadows coiled around the hound’s neck as Jude tightened his grip. A blinding zap of light hit the creature, illuminating the arena as its eyes bulged in terror.

With a final, desperate bite, the hound turned on itself, its own tongue severing in the frenzy. Smoke billowed as it vanished into nothing, leaving only the echo of its growl and the hushed shock of the crowd. Jude stood breathless, and the arena fell silent, the echoes of the crowd fading into a tense hush.

As a replacement came, a smooth, almost melodic voice cut through the stillness. “0.61, a new record for Watcher Jude of James. Congratulations. Would you like to proceed with round two?”

“There’s no new record, I was fucking cheating!”

Jude stood with his hands planted firmly on his hips. He rubbed the back of his neck, fingers kneading the knots that had formed during the simulation. “Fuck! Shit didn't work, it didn't work. Barbara, please disconnect me. I’m ready for their fucking meeting.”

“Jude, I must remind you that this session is being recorded for quality and assurance purposes.”

“I know, and fuck them and fuck their fucking meeting on my paternity leave! Did you record it, or do I need to say it louder?”

“Yes, it is recorded with high-definition audio,” Barbara replied, almost clinical.

“Now disconnect me!”

Jude's eyes snapped open, the soft hiss of pressurized air breaking the silence like a warning bell. The hydrogel clung to his skin as the sterile scent of chemicals filled his nostrils, overwhelming yet familiar. He braced himself against the sides of the pod, muscles tense, and with a swift motion, he leapt to his feet, skin pulling away with a wet gloop as the gel sloughed off.

Grabbing a towel, he wiped away the remnants of the simulation, the fabric absorbing the sticky substance. As he exited the dim simulation room, the world outside felt starkly different—sharper, almost jarring.

The soft murmur of the television wafted toward him as he ascended the creaking staircase. Each step quoted his growing sense of reality, pulling him away from the artificial battlefield. The voice from the screen became clearer and louder.

“We are just days away from the celebration of 100 years of the peace treaty with the Eidolons. The conflict that has taken humanity by surprise has been centralized in the Phantom Zone, a simulation incorporated in a System in a Chip, SiC in other words, where brave men and women have been fighting with their lives for almost a century to grant us, Humans, the peace we know today. This celebration is not to honour a war but for those who offer us peace.”

As Jude approached the living room, the soft glow of the television melted with the bright daylight. There, on the couch, sat Marta, cradling her pregnant belly with her four delicate fingers. Her expression was distant, lost in thought, yet there was a serene glow about her, the quiet strength of a woman about to become a mother.

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching her as the anchor proceeded.

“The Phantom Zone, the battleground of this extra-terrestrial conflict, is structured within a grid system featuring 190 cells, each approximately 945 meters by 945 meters. The entire map spans about 7.56 kilometres in width and 13.23 kilometres in length, covering an area comparable to a metropolitan city 100 square kilometres.”

Jude's gaze softened as he took in the way Marta’s fingers traced gentle patterns across her belly. She wore their wedding ring wrong again. It rested on her index finger instead of the traditional ring finger. A small, playful smirk crept across his lips at the sight.

It was a charming imperfection, one that had become a familiar quirk in their life together. He loved how it seemed to reflect her spirit—unconventional, yet steadfast.

“For the last reports, it seems the humans hold a vantage point with 52%. Unfortunately, these numbers have not changed dramatically, which has led the United Global States—a government formed from this war, uniting 195 countries—to take decisive action. To verify these figures and ensure every advantage is being utilized, Officer Watcher, Jude of James, is called for…”

Marta leaned forward and commanded, “Off.” The television fell into silence, its ominous presence replaced by the quiet of their home. She turned to face Jude, her hair swaying gently with the movement. “So it seems they are calling you?”

Jude straightened and stepped closer, a playful smile tugging at his lips as he reached for a strand of her hair. “What is this, Marta?”

She quickly brushed her fingers nervously through her hair. “I wanted to look pretty. You’re going to be on TV now, and I don’t want people to make fun of you because of me.”

He gently pulled her hair, revealing the wig of long, dark strands slipping off her head. “You are beautiful. You don’t need to hide it.”

Marta faced him, the boldness of her shaved head on full display. “I’m bald!”

“There are millions of people with alopecia,” he reassured her, stepping closer.

She gathered her hands before her face, revealing her missing pinkie fingers. “They’re going to call me a freak. Or… or even say I’m one of them.”

Jude chuckled softly, taking her hands away from her face. “I saw them, and you are nothing like them. You’re just… you. Perfect for me.” He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss on her lips.

“Breakfast?” he asked, stepping back with a playful grin.

“We don’t have any avocado,” she replied, her tone half-hearted but playful with obvious cravings.

“Guess I’m on a mission then.”

Soon enough, Jude trudged through the streets, the weight of his long rubber coat clinging to his body as sweat trickled down his back. A mask covered his face, filtering the noxious air, but it offered little comfort against the suffocating smog that enveloped the city.

Over the past fifty years, pollution surged to staggering levels, and despite plans to purify the air finally being set in motion just three years ago, the effects were still far from visible.

Every politician and law enforcement official seemed consumed by the ongoing war while other critical issues were neglected. Pollution was one of them and now suffocated daily life. Jude felt it with every breath; today, walking the streets without full protective gear was unthinkable.

The yellow mist hung heavily in the air, swirling around him and obscuring his vision. Yet, even through the haze, a massive billboard loomed above—a stark reminder of the reality nowadays.

"The more you share online, the more they know!"

"Be smart: keep your life off the internet."

"Step off the grid and go outside!"

Throughout the century, the internet morphed into a perceived threat to peace, a Pandora's box that many feared would offer aliens vital intelligence to undermine humanity. As a result, paranoia gripped society, and most servers were shut down, dismantling the vast web of connectivity that once defined daily life.

The remnants of what resembled the internet of the 21st century existed only within the confines of a System in a Chip (SiC), a closed intranet inaccessible to the public. Information flowed behind fortified walls, monitored and controlled, leaving ordinary citizens in a digital dark age.

Technological advancements like GPS and AI became relics of the past, their capabilities stripped away. Researching even the simplest facts required manual processes, a tedious return to a world where knowledge was painstakingly catalogued by hand.

In this new reality, seeking information had become an act of rebellion, and the lines of communication that once connected people had turned into echo chambers of misinformation.

Archives had been revived, and crucial information was now stored on SiC, locked away in local racks. This created a maze of bureaucracy that forced people to physically dislocate to these repositories for even the simplest tasks, like accessing their bank accounts. The convenience of digital life had evaporated; everything was now offline.

Television continued to transmit via satellite, yet the news that filtered through was a far cry from the unbiased information of the past. Most broadcasts were laced with propaganda, carefully curated by the United Global States (UGS) to present a narrative aligned with their agenda. Each report felt less like a source of information and more like a tool for manipulation, instilling a pervasive distrust.

Jude often questioned whether the UGS truly protected the people or merely paved the way for a return to authoritarian rule, reminiscent of the dark days of human history.

In a world where knowledge was hoarded, and communication was strictly controlled, no opposite voice was heard.

Jude finally arrived at the mall, its entrance flanked by garish posters that screamed more propaganda. “Fight for humanity; consider building a family.”

Another poster declared, “Saints battle evil as we prepare the world for their return,” expressing an almost religious fervour to the soldiers sent to the battlefield.

It was widely believed that climate change and rampant pollution had severely decreased fertility rates in both men and women, leading to a grim reality where most babies were born with deformities. The most common afflictions included alopecia and the absence of a pinkie finger, visible markers of the environmental toll.

The idea of genetic defects had become a haunting reality that echoed in their thoughts.

In vitro fertilization (IVF) and surrogacy, once seen as hopeful options for those struggling to conceive, had transformed into luxuries accessible only to a privileged few. The exorbitant costs left the majority feeling hopeless, their dreams of expanding their households fading into distant memories.

As Jude walked down the streets, he felt as though he was reading an open book detailing the real "victory" of humankind. Where and what were they truly winning? Because it didn't look like it. Questions swirled in his mind as he stepped into the first grocery store he found. It was a quaint fresh market tucked outside of the mall, with a charming wooden porch that beckoned him inside.

But as the bell chimed softly above him, the scene quickly turned nightmarish. A man stood in the centre of the store, gun drawn. The air was thick with fear, and customers were lying on the floor, their hands clasped tightly over their heads.

The man turned sharply toward Jude. “On your knees now!”