On the planet Sin — where every metre of land had been consumed by monumental structures — life unfolded in the relentless rhythm of industrialisation. The planet was divided into vast zones, each dominated by a different industrial sector. At its core stood immense research laboratories, where engineers and scientists worked ceaselessly on the technologies of tomorrow, flanked by towering skyscrapers housing the corporate elite. These districts radiated luxury, advanced infrastructure, and technological opulence.
In stark contrast, the outskirts were ruled by factories, raw material depots, and overcrowded worker housing, where poverty was part of daily existence. It was in one such neglected district — in the shadow of factory smokestacks and under the constant rain of industrial dust — that Atila walked the streets, heading toward the home of his friend and mentor.
This region was also known for its demographic diversity. Sin attracted representatives from every race within the Empire — from sapiens and neanders, to the Tech, Thiev, and Corso clans, and even inhabitants from the distant border galaxies. The streets teemed with workers and merchants alike, and amid the crowd Atila could distinguish the familiar faces of Imperium Sap — genetically programmed beings like himself. Their physiques stood out with flawless precision, seemingly engineered to endure the harsh conditions of this industrial world.

Despite the apparent chaos of daily life, an invisible shadow lingered over everything — the constant presence of the Imerio Sap, an armed formation whose members had become an inseparable part of the cityscape. Their presence was not ostentatious. They did not bark orders, detain citizens without cause, or interfere in the everyday affairs of the populace. And yet, they were everywhere — blended into the crowd, slipping through the shadows of towering buildings, patrolling the streets with mechanical precision. Their armour, gleaming beneath the neon light, seemed less a tool of protection than one of control.

The citizens had learned to ignore them — to treat them like any other feature of the urban landscape, like walls or the smoke rising from industrial chimneys. But no one could ever truly forget them. Any sideways glance might meet the mirrored visor of a helmet, beneath which expressionless eyes remained ever watchful. Every movement was monitored; every conversation might be overheard.

There was no overt brutality here, no open terror. What there was — was silence. Oppressive and stifling, as though the very air of the city were saturated with fear. Though life carried on — with laughter, trade, and argument — somewhere in the collective subconscious lingered the sense that a single misstep, a word too far, could cause one to vanish into the shadows without a trace.

Atila watched the soldiers passing him and could not shake an unfamiliar sensation. What had once been routine now struck him as foreign, unsettling. He remembered patrolling these very streets himself, imposing order during riots, gazing down at the crowds from atop an armoured platform, believing himself a guardian of the Empire. In those days, he had harboured no doubt — he knew that his presence was necessary, that he and his comrades were the barrier holding back chaos from devouring the city in an instant.

And yet now, seeing those same soldiers, he felt a strange tension. Their unyielding discipline, their precision, their silent grip on the world around them — it all seemed like something more than a mere mechanism of order.

Had it always been like this?

Was it the world that had changed — or had he?

He told himself it was fatigue. He knew that without the Imerio Sap, chaos would reign. That was how he had been trained. It was the knowledge instilled in him from his earliest days at the academy. There was no other way — only force could preserve order. Only discipline could ensure the stability of the Empire.
And yet, a thought stirred in the recesses of his mind, one he could not suppress: if all of this was truly necessary, why did he feel such unease?

Tucked in the shadow of the towering factories, the shop was almost invisible to passing strangers. Its window display, adorned with hand-painted signs, stood out against the grey monotony of the surrounding buildings. A warm light spilled from within, casting an aura of safety and homeliness — a rarity in this part of the city. The scent of freshly baked rolls drifted through the air, contrasting sharply with the metallic tang of the industrial zone.

As Atila made his way down the narrow alley leading to the shop, he couldn’t help but notice the striking contrast between the cramped streets and the monumental towers rising in the distance. Rain fell steadily, his footsteps echoing against the cracked pavement. He felt the dampness on his skin, the grit of dust clinging to the air — elements inseparable from this place. Yet, as he approached the shop, the scent of pastry and the warm glow of the storefront stirred a sense of nostalgia within him.

When he stepped inside, the soft chime of a bell announced his arrival. The interior buzzed with conversation, and a small crowd of customers appeared entirely absorbed in their purchases. A familiar voice — still as warm as in his youth — reached Atila like a breath of fresh air. Meridia, standing behind the counter, was busy serving rolls — a local delicacy, a sweet-sour pastry with a hint of sweetener and a generous helping of Koktons cream.

Meridia worked with practiced efficiency. Her movements were swift, almost mechanical, yet retained a certain grace. Her silvery eyes, a striking contrast to her dark skin, rose above the counter, and the smile on her face imbued her with an extraordinary charm. Even in the chaos of the moment, she radiated a calm that seemed to draw people in. Atila paused briefly, taking in the scene, before stepping forward — his entrance catching the attention of several customers.

“Ah, Atila!” Meridia said with a smile, spotting him even as her hands remained busy serving another patron. “Just a moment — I’ll close up the shop shortly.”