of her humanity and individuality, turning her into just another cog in a machine that knew nothing of freedom.
Elira’s inner contradictions only fueled her drive. She dreamed of a world where order wasn’t tied to cruelty, where ignorance didn’t envelop people in its cold fog. And perhaps that was why she continued to play this dangerous game, ready to face the truth – the truth that had tried to consume her several times before.
She walked down a street that had no name. Like all streets in this city, it was designated only by numbers: Sector 7—12, Line 3. The city she lived in had no name either. It was simply called the «Central Region,» though it was far from central in any geographical sense. But in Novoteria, everything followed a logic that required no explanation. A logic that dictated names were superfluous and individuality was dangerous.
The air was thick and heavy, as always. The sky, perpetually shrouded in gray clouds, blocked out the sunlight. Elira was used to it. She couldn’t even remember what the sun looked like. Its image survived only in old books and archives, accessible to a select few. She had seen them once when, as one of the top engineers, she was granted access to the General Archive’s technological database. That was the first time she wondered if the world could have been different. But such thoughts were quickly suppressed. Thinking about the past was forbidden. Thinking about the future was forbidden too. The only thing that mattered was the present. And the present was gray.
Elira stopped at the entrance to the Engineering Corps – a massive concrete and glass structure towering over the other buildings. Its design was stark and functional, devoid of any ornamentation. Everything in Novoteria was like that: practical, faceless, stripped of individuality. Even the people.
She passed through the scanner that checked her identification chip embedded under the skin of her wrist. A green light flashed, and the doors slid open. Inside, the usual bustle greeted her. Engineers in identical gray jumpsuits hurried through the corridors, ignoring one another. No one greeted anyone. No one smiled. It wasn’t the custom.
Elira took the elevator to the 14th floor, where her office was located. The room was small and cozy, if such a word could even be applied to anything in this world. On her desk stood a holographic projector she used for work, alongside a stack of blueprints and calculations. She sat down and activated the projector. A three-dimensional model of a new city appeared before her – a city meant to house thousands of people relocated from the ruined regions.
She stared at the model, but her thoughts were elsewhere. Lately, she had been plagued by strange sensations. She caught herself asking questions she wasn’t supposed to ask. Why did everything have to be so gray? Why couldn’t people choose where and how to live? Why did they have to obey rules no one had established?
Elira knew such thoughts were dangerous. She had seen what happened to those who asked too many questions. They were taken away. They disappeared. And no one ever heard from them again. But she couldn’t stop. Her mind, like her designs, pushed beyond the permitted boundaries.
She sighed and returned to her work. She needed to finish the calculations for the new energy supply system. The city had to be completely autonomous, independent of external energy sources. This was crucial. Novoteria couldn’t afford dependence on anything. Independence was paramount.
A few hours later, a chime at the door interrupted her. She pressed a button, and the door slid open. Cain Dronov stood in the doorway.
«Elira,» he said, smiling. «Are you busy?»
She nodded but gestured for him to come in. Cain was her friend. No, not a friend. In Novoteria, there were no friends. He was her colleague. But with him, she could speak more freely than with others. He was like her – talented, intelligent, but cautious. He knew how to survive in this world.
«What’s wrong?» she asked.
«Nothing,» he replied, sitting down across from her. «Just wanted to check on you. You look tired.»
«I’m fine,» she said, though she knew he wouldn’t believe her.
Cain glanced at the holographic model.
«New project?» he asked.
«Yes,» she replied. «A city for the relocated. They want it ready by the end of the year.»
«Can you manage?»
«I hope so,» she said, though her voice betrayed her uncertainty.
Cain was silent for a moment, then said, «Elira, you know I’m always here to help. If you need anything, just say the word.»
She looked at him. His eyes were warm, but there was a strange shadow in them. She couldn’t quite place it. But she knew Cain was the only person she could trust. At least, that’s what she thought.
«Thank you,» she said. «I know.»
He nodded and stood up.
«Alright, I’ll get going. Don’t forget to rest. You’re not a machine.»
He smiled and left. Elira stared at the closed door, feeling a strange unease. She couldn’t pinpoint its source, but it was there, deep inside, like a worm gnawing at her.
She returned to her work but couldn’t focus. Her thoughts kept circling back to the questions she had no answers for. Why? Why did it have to be this way? Who decided everything should be like this?
She sighed and turned off the projector. She couldn’t work anymore today. She stood and walked to the window. Outside was the same gray world. People, like shadows, walked the streets with their heads down. Cars, just as gray and faceless, drove along the roads. Everything was the same. Everything was predictable.
But Elira believed that somewhere beyond this city, beyond Novoteria, there was another world. A world she had never seen but felt in her dreams. A world where people smiled and spoke their minds openly. A world where one could be oneself.
She closed her eyes and imagined it. But when she opened them, the gray, nameless city was still there. The city she was helping to build. The city that had become her prison.
She turned and left the office. She needed to go home. But home was just another place where she was alone. Alone with her thoughts. Alone with her questions.
Elira walked down the street, lost in thought. She had just left the Engineering Corps after spending long hours working on the new city project. Her head was heavy with numbers, calculations, and the endless demands of the Council. She felt her mind, trapped in a vise, trying to break free from the permitted boundaries. But to where? There were more questions than answers.
She turned onto Line 9, one of the oldest streets in the Central Region. Here, some buildings from before the Catastrophe still stood. Their once-grand facades were now cracked and coated with layers of gray paint, regularly applied to «refresh» them. These buildings stood as silent witnesses to a past no one dared remember. Elira often passed them, but today something made her slow her pace.
She stopped in front of one building. It was taller than the others, with massive columns at the entrance that had once likely been imposing but now resembled broken teeth. Above the door hung a sign with barely legible text: «Archive No. 17.» Elira frowned. She had never noticed this building before, though she had walked this route hundreds of times. It was as if it had appeared out of nowhere.
Her attention was drawn to the door. It was slightly ajar, which was strange in itself. In Novoteria, all doors were supposed to be locked. Unsecured spaces were a violation of the rules, and violations were punished. Elira glanced around. The street was empty. Even the surveillance cameras, which usually monitored every movement, seemed to be off. Their red lights, which always blinked like ominous eyes, were dark.
A chill ran down her spine. This was wrong. Everything was wrong. Her heart raced, and conflicting thoughts flooded her mind. On one hand, curiosity urged her to step inside, to find out what lay beyond that door. On the other, fear held her back. Fear of the Council of Observers,