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Rated: 18+ · Interactive · Sci-fi · #1845020
Post-Invasion World Agrith. Archetype City. Transformed employment optional.
Chapter #1

Last episode. Overview of Agrith's History...

    by: Authrox Author IconMail Icon
The year is eight hundred and thirty four of the Toranthan Era, or T.E. This era was brought about as a direct consequince of the Monastic Order of Hilmareem, blessed with near absolute authority in the area of faith and spirituality following the fall of the Gilragden Empire. Rallied the various fiefdoms and their militaries to attack the independent city-state of Torantha for refusing to accept their holy word and oust the Toranthan Shamanism. The holy war ended violently for both the Leadership of the Hilmareem as well as the various fiefdom lords. The initial transition into Toranthan rule was peaceful with tolerance being extended for followers of the now vanquished religion. However continueing complications with frequint revolts over faith soon undermined the authority of Toranthan Senate of Elders and triggered a coup from a militaristic group identifying themselves as the Vilrakiin Order. The quick upset in leadership quickly saw dissidents silenced ushering in an age of militaristic expansion coupled with dictatorial oppresion. Eventually resulting in the complete conquest of all vital regions of Agrith by the third century T.E. The next five hundred years saw little change within the Vilrakiin Order ruling in an elitist fashion with near absolute authority and power. Diliberately causing famine and rippening the conditions for rampant disease through their policy of over taxation and neglect of the common populace. Their tyranical behavior changed drastically when a call to arms was declared. This was meant to rally the people of Agrith against a common enemy. Nearly two decades of preparation were witnessed before the conflict erupted with an invading alien species calling themselves the Sabron Imperium. In under thirty-eight hours The Vilrakiin Order surrendered in light of their previous declaration of "Fighting until the last man." Sabron control was a quick transition, with the Imperium spending exhorbinant amounts of materials in order to construct Agrith's near non-existent infastructure. Chief among their concerns was the construction of a spaceport. Which quickly blossomed into an experimental metropolitan and political command zone. Archetype City.
Seeking gainful employment in the newly constructed capital city of Agrith coupled with its assortment of advanced industrial equipement. Several million have flocked to new city seeking their fortunes. Remnants of the Vilrakiin Order, convinced the Sabron adminstration to accept an admentment to the Occupied Agrith Constitution. Which was then modified to reflect the Sabrons belief in equality of the law. That any person or persons seeking employment in job affected directly by resonance manipulation serve for a limited capacity as an altered. The denizens of Agrith call them Magic Casters. The technocratic Sabrontason called them practicioners.The Vilrakiin remnants begrudgingly agreed given the nature of the Sabron backed practicioner group, the Surauto Vaim nes Archanaun. A seperate independent, guild-state, with autonomous, self regulatory authority to oversee any and all practicioners within their area of domain. While the Vilrakiin order strugles to reshape its identity in order to survive under post Sabron rule. The various, and once oppresed peoples of Agrith have accepted the Sabron as liberators, as the world surges forward in an unprecedented renaisance.
The story takes place in Archetype City, capital of planet Agrith, post Sabron Invasion. Starting at a courier company, Chariot Couriers. Several small outfits such as this, have sprung up using humans who have been transformed into robot cycles called Chariots. The story may either follow the couriers or the packages reciepients once they have been introduced.


The lone male worked diligently at his holo-consul. Sorting away at a myriad of information. Before a message alerted him to a job request. He selected a number of possible candadates meeting the criteria before forwarding the message. Not surprisingly he received multiple responses. Using pre gathered intel to determine tests. He checked with dispatch to see if anyone was in the werehouse. With a "no" response. He alerted his compatriots before departing his work station. His Sabron lizard-like tail swinging as he left.
He looked off to the side as the receptionist greeted another batch of candatates with the first one being converted into a 2d human sized poster card, called a flat cell. The receptionist numbered it, hung it off to the side before continuing to the next candadate.
The Sabron continued from the offices into the werehouse, multiple room length aisles consisting of flat cells awaited him. With purpose he checked his Electronic Wrist Computer. Assesing the best candadate from the test data. He then noticed multiple requests from his coworkers to obtain flatcells on their behalf. The Sabron etched a path into his mind before executing his retrieval mission. Gathering, before rolling the flat cells into cylanders, then marking them for dilivery. He arrived just as the couriers did in the loading bay. Checking off the master manefest and noting the area of assignment. He delivered the cylanders and their living occupants to the couriers for safe delivery, Wondering why to himself the couriers insisted on logos when their chasis was a dead give away of employment. Yet as they departed, so did he. Passing another Sabron, self tasked to work the werehouse while he returned to the offices. Meanwhile, reflecting on his peoples efficientcy, and effectiveness...


The courier didn't like the Sabron, always rubbed off to them as a calculating cold. They didn't pay it much mind. Charging onto the Cityway. The over desinged, under used, asphalt road. Was redundant given the Sabron's inclination towards mass trasit light rail. The courier came back to reality as a convoy of coffins raced pass. The police chariots were constructed to house and transport full humans. The enclosed space was said to be akin to a coffin, so the name stuck. Well armed and well armored. Few chose to contest them, even fewer their convoys, with their blaring sirens speeding past. The courier let them pass before continuing there own path. The interlocking network of one way roads allowed access to the entire city. No speed limit, fines only if your safeties didn't work, you run out of gas, or your vehicle leaks oil. The courier couldn't be happier as it accelerated towards it's top speed.


The Sabron Vika-Mang, wore her mechanic blue coverall, wrapped snugly around her waist. Her brown tank top worn snugly around her bosum. Her tall slender and muscular frame both femanine yet intimidating. She was more Sabron in appearance then most of her ilk. Streaks of scales dotted her skin. Blending perfectly against the oil and other petroleum based fluids splashed across her. She stopped abruptly to check the time. The Chariot she had been working on was half way dismantled. To ensure Chariot Couriers remained competitive she needed to provide effective and safe designs for her chariot/employees. Something few of them understood.
Quickly cleaning her self enroute to the loading bay she was greeted by the companies newest aquisition. The courier handed her the tube containing the flat cell. From there it was usual short business. She got the impression that courier didn't like her kind. Didn't matter she supposed, as long as the courier did their job. She arrived quickly on Karen. The president was a low ranking Vilrakiin. Both wanted to start a business, so they teamed up. Karen's holographic image greeted Vika-Mang on her desk top as she entered the main office. Due to laws, concessions had to be made. Together, both lacked the funds for a Re-assembler, and operations without one would be cost prohibitive. So Karen had herself transformed. In exchange, Vika-Mang upgraded Karen's hardware to double as a super computer so she could oversee company operations. This left Vika-Mang as the defacto owner. Though aside from the occasional signature, she was mostly free to tinker and improve chariot designs. An odd but effective relationship.
Vika-Mang lifted up the cylander and smiled. Karen eagerly returned the gesture...
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