Nova Arcis E 4
The Screaming Void
The serene, contemplative atmosphere of the chapel was gone. Cokas Bluna and LYRA.ai had stepped back out into the vibrant, neon-lit night of the Varna-Kovacycy Concourse. Their walk had led them to a different kind of public space, one that was just as essential to the station’s life, but far more mundane. They now stood observing the night service counters of the local council’s public registry.
It was a place of quiet, bureaucratic efficiency. A soft, continuous chime announced the availability of the next service officer. Citizens, their faces a diverse tapestry of humanity from every corner of the settled galaxy, were queued in orderly, patient lines. A young couple was registering the birth of their child. A newly-arrived freighter crew was updating their residency status. An elderly man was renewing his license for a personal atmospheric skimmer. It was the steady, unremarkable, and absolutely vital machinery of a stable, functioning society at work.
LYRA.ai watched the scene, her thoughts cross-referencing the quiet efficiency of the 31st-century bureaucracy with the chaotic, desperate historical context of the Julius segment they had just shown. Her expression was one of deep, discerning thought.
“It is a striking contrast,” she began, her voice a low, thoughtful murmur against the background hum of the service counters. “The data from the late 28th century shows a civilization in a state of profound systemic stress. The ‘Reckless Age’ was reaching its peak. And into that instability… the archives show a marked, statistically significant increase in public engagement with faith-based systems. It seems your point was correct, Cokas. In an age of chaos, the profound human need for stable, reliable guidance becomes a primary social force.”
Cokas nodded grimly, his gaze fixed not on the peaceful scene before them, but on the violent history he was about to recount. “And they needed it, LYRA,” he said, his voice dropping, taking on a hard, serious edge. “They needed every scrap of stability they could find. Because while Pope Julius was offering quiet contemplation in the chapels, the rest of the void was screaming.”
He turned from the orderly queue, his focus now fully on the viewers, his expression that of a historian about to open the door to a very dark room. “The Hyperspace Wars. It was the culmination, the logical and terrifying endpoint, of all the unchecked ambition we’ve been discussing. It was the ‘Reckless Age’ taking off its mask and showing its true, savage face. It wasn’t a war of nations or ideologies. It was a war of pure, unadulterated will.”
He paused, letting the weight of that statement sink in. “And that kind of raw, lawless chaos,” he continued, “it often produces individuals of singular, terrifying will. People who rise from the anarchy not because they are wise or just, but because they are ruthless enough to impose their own order on the chaos. They are the kind of figures that history remembers with a mixture of awe and horror. Figures like the Achilles of ancient Earth—remembered not for their virtue, but for their brute, terrifying effectiveness in a violent world. They are the people who thrive when the rules break down.”
“And the Hyperspace Wars,” he concluded, his voice low and intense, “had just such a man. A petty tyrant who turned an entire star system into his personal fiefdom, a predator who used the very fear and instability of the age as his primary weapon.”
LYRA.ai, her thought running through the grim, bloody archives of the era, provided the final, chilling introduction. “The story of the ZeeZee system, and the man known as D.D. Dagbert, is not a grand political drama. It is a raw, brutal case study in the human cost of a lawless frontier. It is a reminder that the void is not just empty; it is a space where, without the fragile structures of society and shared ethics, the oldest and darkest parts of the human soul can be unleashed.”
The peaceful, orderly scene of the Nova Arcis public service office began to dissolve, the soft chimes of the service interior replaced by the rising, discordant shriek of a ship’s distress beacon and the crackle of static. The 3D-media-stream plunged the audience into the dark, chaotic, and terrifying reality of a system at war with itself, a journey into the heart of a reckless ride.