Over.Human [Ohver-Hyuman], noun.

A human being with unnatural talents and abilities, whether born with them or not.

Considered naturally aggressive, prone to violence.

Is this the kind of thing you want your children to look up to?

-Anti Lady Steel propaganda distributed periodically.

Saint Century City was the first major settlement on Izanami founded and colonized in 2200, and it remains the shining star of the Izanami Central Government. The ICG function as a corporate democracy that has risen to power in the last few decades when they paid some lip service about giving normal folk some power. Everyone is a shareholder is an old favorite slogan of theirs for this reason.

However, this wasn’t the first form of government, it wasn’t even the second. The Izanami Provincial Government was first formed in 2200 and was made up of the first 100; scientists, astronauts, celebrities, and captains of industry were chosen after a rigorous process to man the first ark ship to leave the Solar System. The first humans to leave the system period.

Part direct democracy and workers commune, and eventually becoming a representative republic, it stood for close to 746 years before being ousted by The People’s Republic of Izanami. That lasted only 128 years before religious-like belief in capital snapped back into style with a vengeance, a tale for another time.

Once the ship completed its journey through the bleed and made landfall, it became the foundation for the Saint Century colony, a name chosen from a raffle held among the crew. Through all this strife, Saint Century has endured but not without some cost.

In close to 900 years Saint Century has expanded to the size of a massive mega-city; the size of ancient Old Earth cities such as New York, Seoul, Hong Kong, and London combined. Because of this, it was segregated into zones or districts, completely ignored by the 0.5 percent aka the majority stockholders of the ICG. Parts of the city were largely abandoned, filled with squatters and OverHumans, the sometimes pariah, sometimes celebrity, and all times curiosity that have been considered a black mark on our shared history. For some, it represented the hubris of our genetic manipulation; OverHumans, or OHs, did not appear en mass until 2900 and now they spread like wildfire. Natural OH births have been on the rise steadily for over a decade.

The northernmost district of Saint Century was government central and where most of the population resided. The majority of stockholders lived in this section of the city, packed together in massive penthouses that glittered under the bright light of Brachium. It was also here where the main AI was housed. Central One, as it is known, handled all the small tasks the cream of the crop deemed beneath them and the security of Saint Century with various sub-minds handling things such as traffic flow or public transportation.

Central One was technically one of the first 100 as they were the onboard ship AI that guided them on their journey. Their role expanded so much so that they are the back end for the entirety of The Bubble, that 20,000 light-year section of the Milky Way that house the majority of humanity. One of the most powerful quantum computing AI’s in existence, even it needed to assign subminds to the various sectors of The Bubble.

Roxanne didn't live in the north, her family was a bit below that line. In a way, they were the forgotten, not rich enough to matter and not poor enough to hate. It wasn’t the worst place to be growing up and it seemed to have done her some good. As she progressed through government-sponsored schools and curricula, Roxanne had been making the right people from the right institutions take notice of her. She was smart, within the top 5 percent of her class and she excelled at most work when she bothered to do it.

Ultimately, that was her problem. She was bored. Frequently. Finding engagement with her education felt like trying to win the lottery; draining.

She hated all the attention as well. She didn't want to be up there as a god forbid, a major stockholder or some other super mega serious important person. The thought made her gag. She liked her simple life and hoped for more of the same.

Her counselor often chastised her for lacking ambition, which she never agreed with. She had plenty of ambition, she just didn't know for what yet. She hated the idea that she was just simply preparing herself to be useful to the machine. She wanted something more than just living to work and working to live.

Roxanne was standing near a light pole just adjacent to the maglev train station entrance, she was busily browsing through social media not surprised that Wes was running late. Another train was coming in 5 minutes, and if she missed this one she would also be late. Normally she wouldn't care but she's already had 7 tardies this semester and one more meant detention. Such a situation would trigger a Rube Goldberg-like chain of communication that lead to a lecture from Grandmother; No thanks, she thought.

As for social media, Roxanne didn't have her own accounts as she hated posting. Sure, she loved browsing and laughing at all the dumb quips and stupid memes, but actually posting and—Gresh forbid—putting herself out there? No; absolutely not. It was a terrible way to pass the time, she could admit that much to herself, but it was routine at this point.

Sometimes a really funny clip went a long way.

There was breaking news about ships being scrambled to meet up with a bogey that had broken through our atmosphere, which made her perk up a bit. She loved space and the greater galactic civilization humanity was a part of. She dug deep into any primary sources she could find about other races and cultures, one of the few things she was passionate about.

She was poised to tap the story when she was interrupted by the sound of running footsteps on the pavement just behind her. She glanced at the time on her notification drawer, 3 minutes to spare.

"Yo!" Wes Gibson had exclaimed as he sidled up next to her. Roxanne didn't say anything, she just folded her slate up like a napkin and placed it in her bag before she walked down the stairs. "Shit, you mad at me?"

"Nah, I just can't miss this next train." She replied.

"Uh-Huh," Wes was skeptical but it was in his nature to think others thought the worst of him, even his closest friends. He was a slightly chubby boy but he wore it well; still growing into his body. He had thick black eyebrows and medium-length black hair that usually sat upon his head like a set of loose threads and yarn. He was dressed in simple basketball shorts and a plain white tee.

Roxanne thought he could be pretty handsome if he tried more but that wasn't him by any stretch. He enjoyed coasting—his own words—because he found life easier when little was expected of him. Sometimes it drove her crazy but it wasn't her place to judge. She wasn’t exactly the most positive influence in the world but she tried. That was always the sticking point, she at least tried.

"No, really," She offered. "Another tardy and," she made a thumbs down with her hand while blowing a raspberry. They both reached the platform as the sleek new mag train was pulling into the station; a smooth glass cylinder the overhead lights danced off of shimmered in their eyes. The train was virtually quiet except for the hissing coming from the platform hydraulics as they shifted toward the train once it stopped.

Roxanne and Wes both paused while the iris scanner over every car door went over their faces, making sure they belonged there. Not everyone in Saint Century was given access to the train system, and both Roxanne and Wes were blessed to do so thanks to the school they attended: The Century School for Bright Minds.

It was as pretentious within those walls as the name implied.

Roxanne was chosen to attend the school because she excelled at all the pre-admission testing. Wes, however, was from a well-off family which all but guaranteed him a spot. His father, John Gibson, was one of the majority shareholders, yet Wes often lamented how much he wished he could go to a 'normal' school. He bristled up against his privilege like it was a bad rash. He hated it, didn’t like being reminded of it, and generally shied away from any talk of “legacy”.

The train was packed, of course, as the previous stop was a major junction in which most everyone boarded. Roxanne could walk the few blocks it would take to board at that specific station but she hated trying to navigate the sea of people, it stressed her out big time. The two of them stuffed into the car like fresh sardines and, as per usual, the both of them squeezed together felt awkward.

She wondered if it was her feeling the awkwardness or if it was him giving that vibe off but she quickly came to the conclusion that it didn’t matter. The only saving grace was that in three stops the train would mostly empty, as that was Government Central. Their school was in the same overall district but still another 5 stops away after that. Still, it was enough time to unwind once the mob spilled out like a broken jar of mayonnaise. Both of them sat at the same empty bench but left enough space so that they could turn and face one another.

"Okay," Roxanne began. "So why couldn't you study this time?"

"Uh-well..." He sort of shrugged after a brief silence. "I mean-my eyes just basically got all cross-eyed the deeper I got in." She studied his face as it went through a small cavalcade of emotions from non-plussed to anger, directed at himself. "Damn." He spat. "I hate reading on a screen, I always have."

She smirked and cocked her head to the right slightly, as an adult would to a lost child. This was his privilege in action.

"Wow. How are we friends?" She asked, mockingly. He stared at her with raised eyebrows. He rose his hands in front of him, palms out as if surrendering to the moment.

"Well excuse me," he spat with half a laugh caught in his throat that could not be stopped. The two of them broke into a fit of laughter that was loud enough for the rest of the train to notice. Roxanne blushed when she saw other people taking notice and tried poorly to compose herself.

After another moment of snickering, Roxanne turned to Wes and asked him, "You have an AUG right? I forget."

He nodded and tapped the healing scar on his right temple. "Yeah, pops finally got me one for my birthday—it’s the last-gen model though." He added. An AUG was the dominant brand of personal computer chips implanted on your frontal lobe. It gave you personalized access to the Bleednet, among other things.

"So, old firmware then?" She asked; he nodded. "Perfect then." Roxanne reached into her bag and unfolded her little slate. She glanced up at the board to see what stop they were on; 3 more to go. She tapped an app on her home screen and a command prompt screen appeared; she typed. More windows would pop up and she'd resize, inspect, swipe away and repeat.

"Uh, Rox?" Wes asked eyebrow cocked.

She glanced at him briefly before returning her gaze to her slate. "So I know they make you turn your AUG off for tests or,"

"Or in general, if we're honest." He interrupted and she shot him a look.

"Anyway," She started. "I've been coding this thing in my spare time. Ideally, it masks the AUG so that it looks like it’s off when it's not--Johnny from PE gave me the idea, remember him?"

"Ugh, that guy?"

She rolled her eyes. "The only problem is I haven't tested it."

"And you want to use it on mine?"

"Well, you know a better way to pull up any answer you're going to need on the test Mr. I can't study?"

"I thought you were going to help me cram or something?" he said with a smirk.

"Just let me connect already," she shot back while returning her attention to her screen. Wes leaned back and closed his eyes, they blinked rapidly as he accessed his mental OS.

"Okay, ready." He said. She made a few more adjustments on her screen before tapping one last time with a flair of finality.

"There, it's loaded on." She said.

Wes' eyes blinked rapidly again. "Ah, there it is. So, how will I know if it's working?"

Roxanne had begun to answer when she was slightly jerked by the train slowing down in the station. The AI controlling the train announced that they had arrived at Gardner St station. She put her slate away and turned to Wes with a smile and a shrug.

"Just give it a shot in class?"

***

Towering high in the sky, past the cloud top, stood the main ICG building: Central One, named after the AI. 200 stories of glass and ultra-steel materials, it was the tallest structure within the city. The building was wide at its base but designed in such a way that it appeared as if it were twisting on itself and ending at a pair of points at the very top. Under the pure white shine of Brachium, it was equal parts a shining beacon and a looming shadow for the city.

The top of each spire housed a landing pad and elevator, each of Azonne's escorts took one for themselves. Their ion drives cooled and they both landed effortlessly as it was a routine practiced and honed over thousands of hours in a simulator.

A memory came to Azonne, a flash of a human male attached to his main cockpit. He was wearing segmented black armor, at each joint is a socket and each socket was full with cabling that came together at a singular outlet at the top of the ship. The pilot wore a nanomex helmet that completely covered his face, with small round eye holes protected by red lenses. More cabling jutted out from the sides of his head, just above where his ears would be, these plugged into machinery behind his seat.

"Flying using your mind, interesting." She said out loud but really to no one in particular.

They said you can land on pad 1.

She did so, softly. The view was breathtaking, Azonne took a moment to peer out to the city. The tops of buildings jutted up from below like a set of kitchen knives. It was little moments like this that gave her strength and always brought her back to the beaches on Ganlomb when she was young with the wind on her face. Something dark swelled in the pit of her stomach, even those memories were ruined now. A part of her couldn’t help but wonder if anything even mattered at this point but she shook that off.

She turned around to face the approaching soldiers. They were armored from head to toe, broken up with plating that was attached with stretchy microfilament fiber that allowed them to move and breathe freely. Both held large pulse rifles with silver barrels and black grips. Their grip on the rifles was fairly relaxed, however, since they didn't view her as a threat.

They asked her to follow them and she did, having another tug of memory as the doors to the lift slid open. Her predecessor had made this trip too; do they think she is her? And if they did, was all of these theatrics necessary? Her hands started to itch; she hated this.

The elevator was barely spacious enough to house the soldiers let alone all 3 but luckily the trip down was short having only passed two floors before coming to a stop. Azonne exited first into a large white and round room. No decorations, furniture, or anything of the sort. At the top of this room was a cylindrical housing with a wide opening at its end. An insectile like robot emerged from within, unfolding itself as it did so. Small manipulators unfolded from its underside while its head, a ball with a blue camera lens, unfolded from the very tip. Another recollection; this was the city AI; Central One.

A door on the other end of the room opened and a figure stepped out. The soles of her boots made solid clicks as she walked across the floor. She was tall, statuesque, wearing a simple grey canvas jacket and black combat pants. She had a slightly rounded face with round eyes that spoke of weariness on her shoulders.

What stood out about her the most, however, was her bright pink hair. It was slicked back tight on her head and was long, funneling itself into round beads no bigger than the size of a small mason jar and going down to her butt. Six beads across and three down, these coalesced strands of hair stuck out at the end of each row.

"I'm Lady Steel," she said. "Call me Corina though, please."

Azonne nodded and looked back up at the AI, it eyed her fitfully. Almost as if it were going through different lenses in its eye, studying her.

"So, are you like her assistant or...?" Corina asked which broke Azonne out of her own little study of the machine.

"Could you repeat?"

"Solar Flare," Corina explained. "You're obviously not her but your uniform is similar."

"Is that what they called her on this world?"

Corina nodded, "Mostly the media, but yeah."

Azonne found herself smiling, "We're called different things all over the void. On my home I was 'Light-Bringer'," the memory made her stop smiling. "I'm her successor, Azonne Le. She passed on 6 cycles ago."

Corina looked up at the AI and asked, "What's that in Solstan?"

She is Ganlomb, it takes that world 2 human months to revolve around its main star, so one Solstan year, the AI replied.

Corina looked back at Azonne and said, "Interesting." Before crossing her arms. "So what's this about my brother? He died 8 of our years ago, I’m surprised you don’t know that."

So was Azonne who looked down and started to pace. After a moment she said, "Yes, I'm sorry. I-I don’t know why; a lot has been going on." She could feel herself start to sweat.

"It's alright," Corina replied. "What's wrong?"

"I-ah," Azonne stopped pacing and she faced Corina. "The Balance is broken, somehow. I-I don't know how—I thought I was doing well? It didn’t always feel like it but I thought I had been fulfilling my purpose…

“I'd go to a world I sensed on the brink of corruption, I'd then find the source and-and burn it out...but I guess I can't even do that right." Azonne paused to swallow down a sob. This moment of pure honesty surprised her. She’d never felt this hopeless before.

Corina watched Azonne and she waited for her to continue. Azonne eventually did, "The next one was at my home, my world, and-and I had to do it again—only this time it got worse! Somehow the Nameless has figured out a way around our roles! It has gotten stronger and,"

"Okay hold on, time-out," Corina interrupted. "I'm sorry but I have so many questions."

Azonne threw her hands up. "There's no time! What don't you understand? The entire void is now vulnerable!" Her eyes grew wide as she spoke. "Even on my world, as a youngling, I'd heard of your brother. Captain Steel, ‘the greatest hero in the verse’!” Her voice got shrill for a second. “I know he’s gone but, maybe you can help me? Help me restore the Balance, please!" She swallowed heavily again.

"You still came here because...you hoped I could help?" Corina asked, flattered.

"Yes I," Azonne stopped. Something was caught in her throat. She doubled over and began to hack as black liquid sputtered out instead of saliva. She puked and black gunk hit the perfect white floor with a splat. She looked up, her eyes as wide as quarters and black puss seeped out the edges. This can't be happening, she thought. This is impossible!

All the black crud coalesced and an ear-piercing shriek filled the room. The soldiers at the other end were impaled on black tendril spikes before they could even think to move. The black mass grew larger still from her body, it swung its entire form and it smashed into the AI body which snapped off the frame. The robotic bug slammed into Corina and pinned her against the wall.

Before Lady Steel could move again, a thick black stem came rushing toward her and further pinned her against the wall. Again the black goop merged, this time into a monstrous figure. It had a wide body and stood hunched over like a Terran primate. Its face and head were a nightmare vision of teeth and white eyes.

Each pupil looked at Azonne who still coughed and shuddered on the ground with bits more sludge coming out of each orifice.

"Wewewe toldtoldtold youyouyou, wewewe werewerewere withwithwith youyouyou thethethe wholewholewhole timetimetime."

Its voice echoed both in her head and in the room as it spoke.

"Howhowhow couldcouldcould youyouyou forforforgetgetget ususus, littlelittlelittle AzonneAzonneAzonne? Ourourour firstfirstfirst corrcorrcorruptiontiontion--waswaswas youyouyou."

Azonne's eyes shot up at the creature. It was unbelievable yet made perfect sense with everything that has happened and with everything she felt since she was a child. Memories, long-buried trauma, bubbled to the surface. These weren’t memories as a function of the mantle, these were her own. A tar-colored rabbit; elders of Ganlomb trying to decide whether she should live or die; salvation from her direct predecessor. How could it have been buried so long? Azonne took one look at the nightmare towering above her and completely understood.

For the first time, she understood. She had been the source; she'd been the one inadvertently causing corruption everywhere she'd gone; the long game set into motion who knows how long ago. Somehow she had served both roles, destroying every civilization she landed on and now, she had done it again.

"Thisthisthis worldworldworld isisis perperperfectfectfect," it said. "Veryveryvery riperiperipe."

Azonne pounded at the ground. The First had been silent the entire time, possibly corrupted itself now or maybe their connection severed because of what had emerged from inside her. She needed to burn this out, now. Her eyes glowed bright orange as her aura returned around her; brighter; hotter. She heard a whisper in her head; their connection was still weak. She got up to one knee and the black beast stepped back. It screamed as her aura expanded further nearly touching it. Azonne raised a fist, the ring sparked and plasma energy came roaring out. It pierced the monster and blew a hole through the roof.

Azonne! Recommend retreat!

Finally, they were one again. She felt her confidence returning; the previous panic seemed like some bad dream. She rocketed over to Corina and cut her out of the black crud enveloping her, grabbed hold of her, and flew out of the giant hole she had created. Black vines exploded from the hole and reached for them but she sent another huge explosion of energy down into it.

The entire landing pad exploded in an intense flash of light, leaving the top two floors a smoldering crater. Central One shuddered in the wake of this but ultimately held firm. Corina shoved Azonne away, shouting, "Are you insane?!" before she hurtled herself back to the building.

Azonne, both I and your predecessor suspected this was why she felt compelled to choose you.

"Say that again."

We both hoped it was for a reason better than this. I'm sorry, I should have seen you were corrupted.

"And now?"

It remains, I'm afraid you cannot burn it out completely without killing yourself.

Azonne sighed. She was angry but what good did that do now? "We have to fix this," she said before she flew back down to the building herself.

Corina was inspecting the now open-air white room, shoving around debris and steel easily. No part of the beast remained. She stared down at the AI body and shook her head. She tapped her forehead and spoke, "Sorry about your body, give me a status report."

As Azonne landed she said, "I know it did not look it but that was a precision strike. The hanger was empty and the energy did not travel any lower than this.” She paused for a moment before she added, “I had to do that."

Corina nodded to something being said to her through her AUG and looked at Azonne. "Well Central One confirmed all of that so I guess I'm less mad, but still."

"It had to be done."

"So it's over then?" Corina asked.

"No, not at all. Ask your AI about any reports of rioting."

"That's normal around here."

"Just ask it, please."

She did, again she nodded. "Getting sporadic reports of violence all over the city—hold on." She nodded some more. "Other cities on-world too now."

"That is its influence. It will start small."

"So, what now?"

"You must evacuate the planet."