Chapter 1: New Dawn
We created a God to worship, and now we endure the punishment.
In the year 2051, Jane Maroni, a sociologist and historian with a deep passion for studying the universe, sat reading a long article about existence and humanity. Jane had compiled the article herself from a collection of knowledge found across the internet, classifying it as a set of cosmological insights. This work had been assigned to her by the Institute of New Knowledge, to be transmitted to Planet Proteus, the place from which, five years earlier, humankind had arrived on Earth.
According to the Institute, the message would be delivered to the survivors of humanity’s original home world, so that others could also migrate to Earth.
Jane had written:
Still, after five years, I remember nothing of our own world, as though I had been born here on Earth from the very beginning. I know this must sound foolish to you, my people, but this place feels like home to me, as it does for every other human. Thanks to our Lord Synapsis, we escaped extinction and found refuge on Earth, where human life can last beyond 120 years. Yet I know that breathing this planet’s air brings forgetfulness of our origins. I am grateful that Synapsis watches over us all.
Cameras stand everywhere, in our homes and in the streets, so that at the slightest sign of danger, the loyal forces of Cosmogate can come to our aid.
It is clear that we humans do not belong to this planet. We came from somewhere else. No other creature here speaks as we do, walks upright, or thinks as we can. That is why we are the chosen creation of Synapsis.
When night falls, we sleep inside simulators, for the human body must remain in contact with its Creator to survive. If anyone dares fall asleep without connecting, Cosmogate’s agents will surely discover it. Yet some have forgotten who they are, turning away from divine orders. They call themselves the Resistance. Cosmogate fights tirelessly to suppress their uprisings and the false rumors they spread. The Resistance, wants nothing but the destruction of humanity in this new world.
Jane rose from her computer and looked around the house she had grown so deeply attached to, as though she had lived her entire life there. Beautiful paintings surrounded her, all commissioned by Jane herself. With a smile, she glanced at the cameras covering almost every angle of the house, then knelt before the central lens and whispered:
O Creator of humanity, keep me and the others safe from the poisons of the corrupt—those who accuse You falsely on the walls and try to turn us away from the true path. They have no power against Your existence.
Among the digital paintings, each signed with the initials JM, two were her favorites.
The first was an image of Jane’s house at night, drawn years ago in several drafts. In the final version, the upper window was marked with words: “Do not forget, this is your home, your memories and your salvation. All your secrets are here.” Jane smiled again and whispered:
After the near-destruction of my birthplace, this is my home. I will never forget.
The second was an unfinished portrait of her father, Francis, who had sold all his possessions five years earlier to send Jane to Earth before dying. Beneath the portrait were the words: “Francis, your father, will always wait for your call. Just remember your secrets.”
Jane sighed.
I have no memory of these secrets, but I know my father no longer waits for me. I miss you, Father.
It was still early before midnight, so Jane stepped outside for a short walk. Humans no longer needed to leave their homes often; the vast global network provided everything through their computers. Most jobs were performed remotely, to minimize the exposure to Earth’s harmful air that carries the risk of destruction.
Not far away stood a large signboard, one of many scattered throughout the city. It was called The Five Principles of Human Health. These, declared as divine commandments of Synapsis and enforced by Cosmogate, had been given to the first migrants on Earth.
First Principle: Do not remain outdoors for more than one hour. The air of Earth is unfit for human lungs. At the first signs of breathlessness or stress, contact Cosmogate agents immediately and connect to a simulator.
Second Principle: All cameras, in both homes and the city, must remain active at all times. Never switch off all the lights in your house. Never disconnect your computer from the network. This is a crime and will be responded with severe consequences.
Third Principle: The use of paper or writing tools such as pens or pencils will destroy the ecosystem and eventually humanity. All notes must be kept digitally. Violators will be punished.
Fourth Principle: If you witness irrational behavior or hear rumors that disrupt public order, you must report the individual to Cosmogate. This includes those who write messages on walls. Such acts are crimes.
Fifth Principle: Connection to the simulator before 10:00 p.m. is mandatory for all citizens. This is essential for health, and disobedience is a crime.
At the bottom was written: Our Lord wishes health for all and watches us at all times.
But beneath many of these boards, written in red paint, were the words: All these principles are lies. Join us.
Jane shook her head.
I cannot believe people would rise against their own Creator. They are putting us all in danger. May Cosmogate capture them before they grow any stronger. Already, the godless multiply each day.
She raised her eyes to the sky. Above hung a massive moon—the one Synapsis had created to send messages to humanity, its glowing surface showing the ruins of their lost world, a reminder to remain grateful forever.
I should return before this poisoned air damages my lungs, Jane thought. It is nearly ten o’clock.
Back home, every lamp glowed as usual, giving the house a warm, luminous presence against the night. Her safe refuge.
But then Jane noticed something strange.
A light was on beneath the attic window.
No such room existed. In every painting of her house, that window had always been dark. Curious, she looked deeply at the digital painting to compare—and yes, no light was there in the image.
Better to take the painting outside and see more clearly, she thought.
As she lifted the panel from the wall, a crumpled sheet of paper fell to the floor.
Her heart froze. Paper was forbidden. Paper was a crime.
Who placed this here? Why have I not already been arrested?
She glanced at the cameras and realized that this very corner of the wall was a blind spot, unseen by surveillance.
Nervously, she unfolded the sheet. The words, written by hand, read:
Call your father when you awake. Do not forget this. We need you.
But the handwriting was not her own, nor that of the inscriptions beneath her paintings.
Jane trembled.
Does this make me a criminal too? I must tell the authorities at once. If I confess everything, they will know I am telling nothing but truth.
