The holograms simulating the underground base construction vanished. Instead, a rotating black holographic diamond hovered in front of the teens, who each lay on their respective floating seats.

As usual, each chair reflected one of the three primary colours. The raging thunder-blue of Fabrice, The bloody scarlet of Anastasia, and The… the vivid green of Loris. Yeah, he had, again, drawn the short straw. At various locations in the room, the reflected rays merged, forming a nearly complete light spectrum. A sight to behold, especially in the centre, where the three primary colours fused into a stable white, contrasted by the rotating dark diamond.

Anastasia gasped. “Oh!”

“Already seen it in your dreams? It’s normal. Everyone did.” Fabrice said.

Her eyebrows raised. It was not usual for Fabrice to commit inaccuracies. “More than in my dreams, don’t you remember?”

He looked at her weirdly, as if he did not get her point.

Anastasia looked back and then rolled her eagle eyes. “Oh yeah, right, you’re all blind.” She then shook her head in astonishment and sighed, mimicking the irritating know-it-all habit of Fabrice. “When the world darkened last night, some sort of mist spread. After like an endless moment, this thing formed in front of us.”

“That is it?” Fabrice asked.

“Eh-eh. I’ve hurt your feelings?” Anastasia giggled before settling on a slightly more serious tone. “The one in front of me suddenly shrank so much that I couldn’t see it anymore.”

A peculiar sensation came over Loris. “Oh! I’ve also seen the mist. It appeared after the world turned into a giant network. I thought it was a hallucination.” He remembered, but it felt so far as if a lot else had happened since. Strange, as it only took place half a day ago.

Fabrice touched his optical lens. “I’ve seen nothing. On the web, some people claimed to have seen the mist. Alone, this information has no value, but what you’ve seen changes everything. If it is real, a Dark-Core might be inside us. It’s key information to understand this phenomenon. I’ll send a report to my mother, as she is in touch with the authorities.”

Anastasia’s facial expressions briefly twitched at the word mother.

This was perhaps too quick for Fabrice, who asked for technical details before sending his brief report.

With this done, their conversation resumed.

“So you both know about Dark-Cores. Due to the lack of official information, we only know that it causes everyone to experience a mindfulness dream. And this is most likely whenever we are in a deep sleeping phase.”

Slumped in his levitating chair, Loris yawned. “Just get to the point.”

Fabrice continued his speech. “According to the information it contains, a purification will occur in six months. Most experts predict the worst cataclysm humanity has ever known.”

Loris grimaced. By dwelling on unnecessary details, his friend had the bad habit of beating around the bush.

Fabrice sighed. “Okay, I get it. There is only one way to put the odds in our favour: achieve as high a score as possible within six months.”

Anastasia tied up her hair. “Easy to say. What’s the plan?”

“As we’re competing with the rest of the world, we can’t trust anyone regarding the good deals, or rather, the good goals.”

Fabrice kept talking to them like children, and Loris couldn’t take it anymore. “You might be a Brain, but we also have one. Cut to the chase.”

Fabrice nodded. “We will determine the variables that govern the score awarded after completing a mission.”

“Smart!” Anastasia exclaimed.

Loris smirked. “I already began.”

One of Fabrice’s eyebrows raised. “Can you tell us what you found?”

“Nothing but...”

Fabrice smirked back. “I’ve already found a restrictive rule: An action can only be rewarded once.”

Loris and Fabrice exchanged information about their chosen and accomplished missions.

Fabrice’s first three goals were:

Eat something sour.

Eat something.

Eat.

He accomplished them but only harvested a meagre number of points from the first when interacting with his Dark-Core last night. The two others gave none.

“I don’t get why you chose this goal,” Fabrice asked.

He referred to one of Loris’ missions: Find at least 70% of the variables that influence the score of an accomplished goal.

He would certainly get a lot of points if he succeeded. However, the research time would be more important with only two-goal slots left. No matter how Fabrice looked at it, it wasn’t worth it.

Researching the variables required simple and easy-to-achieve objectives in order to test with precisions which variable had an impact and to what extent. They hadn’t proved it, but the difficulty and the time needed to accomplish a goal were definitely two main variables defining the final score. In this variable hunt, they renounced the possibility of scoring high in order to collect information. By sacrificing one of his three-goal slots, this hunting for variables would last longer. As a result, he risked being too far behind to catch up. Ultimately, their absolute goal was to be in the top 10%.

Loris grinned, showing his sharp white teeth as if trying to prove his worth. “I want to sell the information.”

Fabrice’s eyes widened. The information age was over, but it still influenced the present. Free information didn’t exist in Merigen, not outside the educational system. The few exceptions were full of advertising or ideological propaganda.

A few seconds later, the long-legged teenager opened his mouth. “I’m in. Under one condition: we set a time limit.”

After a not-so-long discussion, Anastasia, Fabrice, and Loris agreed; Anastasia would set the goal: find 40% of the variables, Fabrice 55% and Loris 70%. If they did not reach a milestone every fifteen days, they would stop focusing on searching for variables. Their top priority would be to make as many points as possible.

Fabrice uploaded a file on the local network. It contained an exhaustive list of variables that could influence the score gained after completing a Dark-Core’s goal. However, it was necessary to check and confirm which ones were really relevant.

To determine that, they agreed to tackle some of these variables by setting and carrying out bespoke missions.

If a variable turned out to have a tangible impact on the score, they would select and complete new Dark-Goals to understand precisely how it did so.

They planned to upload their intents and data into the local network to ensure excellent coordination.

Then it was Fabrice’s job to transcribe their findings into mathematical functions. Ideally, with sufficient accuracy to determine, a priori, the score of future missions. This should, in theory, allow them to choose the best possible Dark-Goals.

Fabrice touched the tip of his overgrown white dreadlock, turning his p-ring off. “Let’s talk about money now. I’ll find a way to finance the underground base, but I’ll make it simple: Cut all unnecessary spending.” He said. His gaze insisted on Anastasia, making her understand he mainly addressed her.

“Why?!” she asked in a grumpy tone.

“The underground base is only the first phase of our preparation. We’ll need even more money later.”

She echoed his words in an annoying voice, ridiculing him.

Loris laughed. “That is it?”

“Yeah, Ana and I’ll soon be grown up, which means a better income. But we’ll still have to gamble on selling the information we will collect on the scoring system. At worst, I can ask-“ Fabrice suddenly stopped.

Loris winced, realising that Fabrice was about to refer to a taboo subject in their society—parental love.

Merigen was a society that pushed people to individual accomplishment. Citizens belonging to higher categories had access to better and more diverse genetic enhancements, which allowed them to outstrip those lesser than themselves and live longer.

This system, however, had a severe flaw; Merigenians became disinterested in having children.

To ensure a healthy population size, authorities implemented glass ceilings for those with no descendants past a certain age. In addition, parents received merit and citizen advantages according to the achievements of their direct descendants. Suffice to say, most parents had children for their own personal gain, and most children were emotionally neglected.

While Loris had more or less accepted it, this wasn’t the case for everyone. He quickly changed the subject, knowing that Anastasia was already on edge. “Regarding my lack of… you know. I would like to compare my stats with yours.”

“Sure,” Fabrice said. Thankfully, he was not the kind of person to make fun of his friends’ weaknesses.

After turning it on, he displayed a holographic stat sheet with his p-ring.

[Fabrice Bellone]

[Height: 1.95 metre]

[Weight: 97kg]

[Agility: 10.68 points]

[Constitution: 6.25 points]

[Strength: 68.26 points]

[Vitality: 8 points]

[Intelligence: 22.9 points]

[Perception: 6.75 points]

[Willpower: 23.8 points]

[Creativity: 12.4 points]

It was both a pleasant surprise and a harsh reality check.

Terrible memories from his school days came flooding back.

Regardless of his efforts, he couldn’t hope to compete with someone who had a genetic specialisation. A genetic alteration.

Despite only a slight age difference between them and the same number of genetic enhancements, even if he performed the same training, he would never match Fabrice’s level of strength, even less surpass it. Their genes were simply too different.

Loris could not achieve greatness since almost all Merigenians had at least one genetic specialisation, and each field had its specialists. Outperforming them would require him to out-speed a cheetah or win an arm wrestle against a genetically enhanced gorilla: Impossible.

Therefore, everyone considered him a worthless scum. Unfit to be a Merigenian. Someone even despised among the Ungifted. And in a society where access to employment and any form of social and personal success depended on one’s specialisation, he was, objectively, a good for nothing.

Yet, it was a pleasant surprise. Fabrice was one of the genetic oddities with two major genetic specialisations, one for strength and intelligence. And yet, at least in terms of intelligence, Loris was not that far behind. It rekindled a flame of hope that had long been extinguished.

Almost three hundred years ago, the world had entered the age of genetics, with Merigen as its cradle. There was a multitude of genetic operations available, yet two kinds stood out: genetic enhancements and alteration.

Living without these was more than a handicap in the land of genes. It was a death sentence.

Genetic alterations occur when the embryo forms. Their primary purpose is to adjust one’s genetic limitations.

In practice, a person with a widespread genetic alteration aimed at increasing strength will have a body that naturally gives greater importance to muscle formation. Glucose will prioritise the feeding of muscle tissue, and the parts of the brain that regulate muscle mobility and their coordination will develop more. However, this trade-off comes at the expense of developing the rest of the body, which will grow less than average.

Although such genetic operations had been mastered, they weren’t risk-free, even more when they exceeded what was possible. Major genetic alterations approached the closest such boundaries.

Few embryos had legally undergone two different major genetic alterations. Besides being relatively new, this required a first-rate geneticist and two generations of sires who had undergone a similar major genetic alteration. And yet, this unknown path brimmed with risks and downsides.

Loris also displayed his statistics.

Fabrice’s eyebrow twitched. “You’re smarter than I thought.”

Loris chuckled. “Or you’re dumber.”

They both laughed, but something was off with Fabrice’s. Yet Loris couldn’t figure out what. His long-legged friend had always been hard to read. It always gave the impression that he had something to hide.

Anastasia stroked her elbow. She pretended something was tickling her but could barely repress her growing embarrassment. The wavy girl was very expressive, making her easy to understand. It gave her a cute, approachable side that he particularly liked.

“Wait a minute; I haven’t registered mine,” she said.

These statistics came from their respective Dark-Cores. Not everybody was as meticulous as Fabrice, who used to record and remember everything.

[Anastasia Clemente]

[Height: 1.78 metre]

[Weight: 59kg]

[Agility: 33.2 points]

[Constitution: 7.36 points]

[Strength: 8.54 points]

[Vitality: 7.6 points]

[Perception: 32.2 points]

[Willpower: 7.3 points]

[Creativity: 34.1 points]

“You forgot intelligence,” Loris said.

She stammered. “That’s…”

Making cat eyes, Loris begged her to answer. This was the statistic he valued most. After all, intelligence was primordial in developed societies.

Small tears rolled down her round cheeks. “I… I’m not dumb!”

[Intelligence: 5.6]