Chapter 1

In Kira's sector of the City of Glass, OmniCorp was the omnipresent ruler, its systems weaving a seemingly perfect tapestry of order and efficiency over every aspect of life. On the surface, everything gleamed with corporate precision, yet beneath, a pervasive corruption of freedom simmered.

She was already walking in the street, leaving the lingering scent of jasmine and the distant hum of the marketplace behind. She moved with quiet purpose, wishing she possessed one of the rumored comm-pads – relics from a time before every device was hardwired into the corporate grid. The very idea of their faint, almost imperceptible shimmer was a stark contrast to the omnipresent, brightly lit public displays that pulsed with corporate messaging. She needed a new batch of recycled paper and ink for her archived data.

Kira walking through the city streets.

She glanced at the nearest public display, a shimmering holographic projection of OmniCorp's emblem – a triangle – that seemed to follow her gaze. Below it, a scrolling ticker displayed citizen 'wellness scores' and 'productivity metrics,' a constant, subtle reminder of the invisible chains that bound them. Each citizen's every public transaction was logged, analyzed, and assigned a score. A low score meant reduced resource allocations, restricted movement, even re-education. Kira's own score was meticulously maintained, a delicate dance between appearing compliant and executing defiance.

The 'wellness score' was the city's invisible currency. It dictated everything: the quality of one's nutrient paste allocation, access to the cleaner, upper-sector housing, even the permissible travel zones. A dip below the acceptable threshold, and the system would automatically reroute public transport, deny entry to certain communal spaces, or flag an individual for 'remedial societal integration' – a euphemism for forced labor or worse. Kira had seen families displaced, their children reassigned to lower-tier educational facilities, all because a parent's score had inexplicably plummeted after a 'non-sanctioned' gathering.

To maintain her own façade, Kira adhered to a strict regimen. Her public comm-link, the one OmniCorp provided, was a model of conformity: daily affirmations of corporate loyalty, approved news feeds, and perfectly calibrated 'social interactions' with pre-vetted contacts. Her daily commute on the public mag-lev always followed the most direct, system-approved route, never deviating. and never lingered in unmonitored zones for too long.

"Good morning, Kira," chirped a cheerful, automated voice from a nearby street sensor, its optical lens swiveling to track her. Kira offered a practiced, open smile. The sensor's light blinked green, acknowledging her. She felt the familiar, cold satisfaction of a successful performance, a small victory in the constant battle against the unseen eyes of the corporate behemoth. The constant pressure was a low hum beneath her skin, a subtle vibration that never truly ceased. It was the price of breathing in the City of Glass.