Become a Number
"Humanity fades bit by bit."
- Unknown
- Unknown
In Uomi only 1% of the population remains genetically or bionically unmodified. They are considered flawed, imperfect, and weak. Despite this they still remain human despite all odds. The choice to remain unmodified is a conscious one and is often done due to moral reasons when regarding modification. For example the Uomian cult known as the Order of Violet has several sub-groups opposed to all forms of modification and will take violent action against all modified citizens. The reasons for this opposition is due to any modification, bionic or genetic, is stated to be against the will of the Goddess Violet. To shed your humanity so freely is a sin of the highest degree.
The 99% of Uomians that modify themselves often do so at an early age, usually between the ages of 1 week to 5 years. At this age all augmentation is minor in scale and only meant to be temporary, disregarding genetic modifications. The common bionic modifications at such a young age are designed to allow a child to communicate instantaneously with care takers, able to be tracked, and allow access into the various Virtual Classrooms maintained by state Artificial Intelligences and organic instructors.
As a citizen grows older it is common for many to fully replace limbs and organs with machine or bio engineered ones. Others will fully convert themselves into an AI or even another species. The average Uomian will replace nearly all their body parts by the age of 20. However all citizens are required by law to be connected to the virtual government networking system known as The Eye, the system in which all legal citizens are connected to the Uomian Collective.[/font]
The Supreme Unity of Uomi, Cernos
Northern Regalia District
The Cave! Late Night Pub and Grill
2300 Hours
Milos Sokolov stared blankly at the mahogany colored counter in front of him. A full glass of an Cernos local ale remained untouched. Sokolov couldn't bring himself low enough to drink that shit. The bartender spoke highly of it only because his own son owned the brewery that produced them. Sokolov's respect for the boy plummeted straight to zero after the kid replaced nearly the entire unskilled staff with them. His opinion on the entire family had reached an all time low within the last few months. They had become them.
The room was dimly lit by several orange ceiling lights. Several tables and unoccupied pool tables were placed directly behind the bar. Despite the establishment being full of people, the place was surprisingly quiet. Low murmurs and the muffled sound of the television above the bar was all Sokolov could hear.
His hair had thinned and turned white several years ago while his beard was surprisingly thick. He couldn't tell if that was because he allowed it to grow so large, although he didn't even know if losing beard hair was an actual thing. Seemingly lifeless grey orbs peered to the outside world from the thin slits he had for eyes. Like his eyes, his lips were thin and several wrinkles extended out from the edges just like the ones by his eyes did.
He was about ready to order another drink to replace the complementary crap he was given until he was stopped by the television.
"One hundred and sixty three people were killed earlier today in the latest spree of government operations against cultist positions in eastern Cernos. There have been no reported injuries."
Sokolov's interest was peaked. For several weeks government and cultist forces were engaged in multiple conflicts across the city. Attacks like this happened all the time, but the casualties had never been so lethal. The entire conflict was rather small in scale and only gained national attention due to the massive amount of intervention by the military. The Uomian Armed Forces had always been known for their ability to conduct combat operations with frightening speed and efficiency. Thirty years in the Uomian Army had taught him that much. However the amount of people killed indicated either an attack from the air or another ground operation by the army, the two typical assaults by the government. Either of which had a tendency to be rather indiscriminate in regards to who became the victim.
"Details regarding the latest attack are sparse at the moment, however witnesses state the attack occurred approximately around 11:31am to 11:32am.", The Cernos Local News announcer stated.
60 seconds. They're all dead.
"The government while claiming responsibility for the attack, has not released official details. The many witnesses despite being in close proximity to the site of the assault, were not able to see or hear anything indicating an attack. Only the many falling corpses of the victims being of any indications. Footage of the mysterious attack is currently being investigated by our analysts." The woman continued.
Sokolov's eyes glazed as distant memories flooded in. He felt a knot tightening in his stomach as he processed the information. In the very back of his mind he had the faintest inkling of an idea on what carried out the attack, another new toy.
"At the moment the victims have been confirmed to be directly affiliated with the Order of Violet."
It was all background noise now. A muffled out sound that held no meaning.
The future simply will not allow for mistakes. Human error just isn't a valid excuse any more. Progress demands we remove it completely. Why do you continue to defend it so much?
He remembered the argument he got into with his son about the future of the nation. They never quite did see eye to eye.
Humans felt emotion and could feel compassion whereas an automated tank could not. A human knew when to stop, when to relent. The average Uomian war machine did not, instead would only settle for a complete destruction of the opposition. The nation no longer had use for slow mundane humans, a rather sad reality from Sokolov's point of view.
Crack.
The sound of a distant gunshot snapped Sokolov back to reality. He was able to immediately identify the shot as an UMS07 V1 Zeus Anti-Material Rifle, one of the most powerful weapons in service and one of the few weapons with a variant made for use out of the atmosphere of the planet. The weapon easily classified as a fuck you and your cover type of weapon due to its ability to casually shoot through several building.
Another weapon designed to kill a target efficiently. Too efficiently. Also a weapon no human could wield. To fire the weapon you either had to have military grade prosthetics or A-Class Genetic Enhancements.
Suddenly he felt his eyes glance up, inadvertently his thoughts pulling towards the infamous Orbital Marksman high above latched upon some satellite. The criminal had somehow secured one of those rifles and was now raining hell down on Uomi. His eyes then raced towards the security cameras in the room.
Could he see me? He could have me in his sights right now, building be damned.
A shiver travelled down his spine. Like many weapons of similar ilk employed by the government, the space variant when used with the proper equipment could easily locate a target using public cameras or even using The Eye. When the Collective wanted someone dead, they would most assuredly be dead. There was no hiding as all citizens, even unmodified ones were chipped at birth.
Was this how they felt?
The latest people killed in the attack were killed too fast and in too great of a number. The cultists never even stood a chance. The government wasn't interested in stopping the conflict, only testing their new toys on the cultists.
The face of Uomian warfare was already in the midst of changing ever since Sokolov first joined all those many years ago. When he retired it was still in the midst of changing. A seemingly constant change, or as some of his old superiors told him an ever shifting beast. Uomi always prided itself on speed and efficiency, the most minuscule amount of time for the greatest result. Everything had to remain in a constant flux of movement.
The people killed by the attack were unknown by identity and affiliation, yet Sokolov couldn't help but wonder if they saw their fate coming. Did the military even have the capacity for either mercy or cruelty to grant them that? Or was the either of those just too human for them to care for?
The sound of heavy footsteps approaching made him raise his head up.
"Not liking my son's best?" The bartender asked casually.
Sokolov carefully regarded him for a moment. Andrei Polzin despite his looks, was more machine than man. His body was not his original one, rather a machine one fitted with his brain. A complete cyborg one step away from becoming an android. Despite easily being over 60 years old, the man appeared no younger than 25. Several months ago, Polzin an overweight and wrinkling sack of old flesh. Now his body put most natural bodybuilders to shame. Sokolov didn't know whether to sneer at him in disgust or appreciate the man's willingness to impress his wife.
"It's not bad." He replied, lying through his teeth.
"You didn't even touch it yet."
Sokolov mentally cursed himself for that slip up.
"I don't need to. I already know it's going to be great."
The owner chuckled. Sokolov couldn't help but wince at how natural his voice sounded. Very impressive for a man that didn't even possess a larynx or vocal cords. Then again, not many people were left that possessed their natural body parts.
"Well, if you need me I'll be out back. Just hit the ringer and I'll be right out." Polzin declared while giving his best smile.
Another wince. Even the damn smile looked normal.
Sokolov remembered Polzin before his modification. A fat sack of shit barely capable of looking down and seeing his own dick. How he was able to get out of bed in the morning was a mystery. An even greater mystery on why his wife even bothered to stay, the cruel woman she was. Sokolov was absolutely sure he would have been able to outrun and overpower the bastard any day of the week.
Then the bastard went to go become one of them.
The day Polzin came back from his operation, he nearly broke the bar door by just shoving it open to hard. The bullet proof CrySteel. The guy had apparently taken several days to learn how to control his new body.
A C-Class Cybernetic Replacement Body with slightly above average strength rating. A slightly above average one and Sokolov was already outclassed in the physical department. The worst part about it was it only took one week for that to happen. A lifetime's worth of physical training put to shame by a single cheap operation.
Sokolov glanced over his shoulder towards the other patrons in the bar. He was willing to bet nearly all the other occupants would easily be able to outclass him physically and mentally.
He could only sigh in defeat. The nation was just changing far too rapidly for his liking and that damn drink was still in front of his face.
OOC- Trying new things. Didn't really like how this turned out, didn't capture the feel I wanted. Probably write another part later.
