"Jordan, calm down!"

  Jordan was more than aware of his father's pleas scratching at the back of his consciousness. Regardless, his words and all other stimuli fell on a muted consciousness. Any all sounds besides the rage of his flesh became distorted to his ears. His sight was reduced to a mass of cold, oppressive darkness while his body swelled from the restraints steadily erupting and tightening themselves around his body.

  Suddenly, the claws flexed, increased their grip ever so slightly as an abnormal cold began to crawl around the orbits of his eyes. Jordan's strength was knocked from his body as the wiry, snaking fingers breached his eye sockets with a dull thump, sending a shrill shudder arcing down his spine that only increased in tune with the fingers, writhing and curving around his eyeballs in want of his optic nerve.

  It took everything in Jordan's power not to gag. To not vomit all over himself from the sickening sounds echoing in his skull. His gut clenched from the fluid in his eyes, displacing against the bone and creeping fingers with loud, wet cracks before leaking down his face; from the wiry appendages continuing to force paths around his eyes; from the sharp knocks and rings that echoed in his skull, leaving his face feeling more and more distorted as time passed until, without hesitation, the claw tugged.

  The violent tremors returned to the bed beneath him in that instant; as did the distant shouts of his father scratching at his consciousness. As the pull increased, the lights above him distorted. Splayed sideways at unnatural angles while the sound of rushing air filled his perception, winding and swirling until culminating in a thunderous, wet pop that echoed through Jordan's skull like a ruptured balloon. Then Jordan's world turned black.

  Like a wave hit his body and sapped his strength, Jordan's body crumpled in place after having the assault come to a close. For what felt like years in his mind, he felt the stimuli of his surroundings flood his awareness. The embrace of the bed contouring around his legs. The silky, replaceable fabric lining his back. The incessant squirming and thrashing of his body from the after affects of his shock. The soft hums of the machine above him. Even the snickering, worrisome, or snide remarks of his siblings were almost overbearing to him.

  'The worst is over,' Jordan sighed to himself, focusing again on regulating his breath until the cold fingers clasping Jordan's face flexed, prying his now useless eyelids apart to send a flood of gelid air to mix around the new void in his skull. 'Wow.' Jordan's breath quivered after a meek attempt at a wry snort. 'I'm actually blind. Can't see shit. Not even a red glow.'

  Jordan's thoughts were cut short as a suspiciously warm, viscous fluid was dripped around and into his eye sockets, followed by a dense pressure around the vacant holes that quickly began to rise and rise until a loud knock rocked his skull. Once his head settled, his skull started to feel increasingly cramped. His sockets were veritably filled with... something; he'd noticed at first. Small and shriveled like raisins. But as the dizziness slowly waned from his head, the feeling quickly grew to become a ballooning pressure that compressed his cranium. His thoughts became cloudy and sluggish as the pain drew out the passing seconds. And once the sensation became too much to bear, a sharp prick stung Jordan's neck, quieting the subtle voices, quakes and hums around him to a balmy silence.

  ——

  Awareness returned to Jordan in increments. The first stimuli he took notice of were the silky fabrics lining his body and the bed upon which he lay. A blanket noticeably different from the one in the doctor's operating room. Drier, thicker, softer and clumped in random spots under his back and legs like he'd been thrown haphazardly onto the mattress. Next was the mass of memory foam, compressed almost flat under the weight of his head, followed by an oppressive weight that was cradled around Jordan's body and stirred with him as he rose from his grogginess.

  After trying and failing to pry his eyes open, Jordan subconsciously reached for his eyes. As if it had never been, Jordan's fatigue shattered as the warm, rugged cloth of the gauze covering his eyes ran along his cold, metal fingers.

  He leapt upright in that instant, cackling madly while patting and poking his body from head to food to feel the warmth of skin through the tips of his new appendages. "I have arms!" He cackled louder as he fell back into his pillow.

  "Yeah, you do. " Jago's whispered, impatient tone rang from somewhere beside Jordan's bed, shocking the latter to his core. "Now, go back to sleep. And don't take your headband off until you're told."

  "Tch!" Jordan scoffed, extending his middle finger in the direction he thought Jago sat. "Who made you my babysitter?"

  "I did." He snorted, just before the door hissed closed behind him, as if to punctuate his reply.

  "Go tO SlEeP." Jordan mocked at his back after rolling onto his side. 'Could you, when you got your arms, Jaggy?'

  As Jordan lay in bed longing for sleep, despairingly feeling the seconds tick by, the trauma of his prior operation replayed incessantly in his mind. Each sensation, the pokes and prods, the distinct feeling of static enveloping his body, even the manic invasion of his eye sockets, seemed to return to his nerves. His body grew hot as the sensation traveled from his from his eyes to his ears, down to the nose, through the mouth before leaking down to his throat to encompass what was left of his flesh. Even as the pain continued to crawl through Jordan's body, the sickening, crawling sensation seemed to concentrate within his eyes until the sensation passed the basin of his sockets and began digging through the depths of his skull, intensifying with each passing moment until the pain was lodged into the recesses of his cranium, where it pulsed for what felt like years; centuries even, before finally subsiding, allowing Jordan's mind to collapse into a deep slumber.

  ——

  ...

  [Hardware synchronized.]

  …

  Jordan's mind spun as he pushed against his pillow to force himself upright. His blankets, now heavy and saturated with moisture, rolled off of his back, exciting the cool, morning air to kiss his skin. After a brief shudder from the cold, Jordan swung his legs out of bed, then abruptly froze after focusing on the digital words floating in the blackness.

  [Manuals Installed: Carpo Industries Basic Optical Scanner. Olfactory Chemical Detection Array. Auricular Mesh. Gustatory Modality Enhancer. Subdermal Environmental Analyzer. Respirocytes: Standard Dose. NanoLung Mk I. Carpo Industries Neural Interface.]

  [Downloading 1/3: Merit System...]

  [Downloading 2/3: Campaign Software...]

  [Downloading 3/3: Universal Cartographic Library]

  Jordan sat patiently at the edge of his bed while he watched the notifications fade in-and-out of existence. Everything about the situation, from his posture to his attentive stare, reminded Jordan of warmer times. Of his childhood, when he'd spend many of his mornings in the exact posture, watching his favorite shows, burning through his personalized education programs, training his mind and body, and delving through both the Starfarer's Archives and the Universal Cartographic Library to learn as much as he could about the abundance of technology humanity now had under its control. A nonstop endeavor that he'd undergone since he could speak and stand to prepare himself for the moment that was now upon him.

  [Downloads complete.]

  [Initializing...]

  [Initialization complete.]

  The digital words soon faded into nothingness. Leaving Jordan once again trapped in the limbo of perpetual emptiness and periodical thoughts. If only for a moment.

  [November 320th, 2nd Year of the Galilean Powers.]

  [New Bran, Europa.]

  [07:41. Universal Europa Time. (UET)]

  Just like the prior notifications, the date and Jordan's location faded away after pulsing for a few moments at the top of his field of view while the time remained, pulsing gently once more before repositioning itself at the top of Jordan's field of view, centered underneath what appeared to be a miniature red dwarf star inscribed with the number 56.

  'The hell is that?'

  Before Jordan could ponder further, readouts of the pressure, composition, and temperature of the surrounding air appeared similar to the date and time before all but the temperature faded, repositioning itself in the lower left corner of his vision. Oxygen levels, web browsers, VR software, even a local map of the habitat, all appeared with Jordan's vision before either fading out of view or miniaturizing into widgets in the peripherals of his vision, ready to be summoned again at the slightest thought or glance.

  Just as Jordan began to hesitantly reach for the gauze wrapping his head, a loud bang akin to clapping iron plates echoed from far beyond the wall.

  Jordan flinched backwards onto the bed as his head cranked towards the sound. Towards a humanoid outline of red wires, walking in the blackness, hauntingly becoming more vivid and detailed with new growths of wires after each sharp step. He saw the gray and white outlines of his bedroom door inscribe themselves into the void before the structure hissed open by influence of the figure, now detailed so much that the formerly red silhouette of a man was now a full crimson mass with sharp cheeks and the rounded scalp of a partially bald head. A gentle rush of air flooded the room in pace with the figure's ingress, washing over Jordan a pungent aroma of salt, flowers, and dirt that nearly permeated his closed mouth.

  Jordan reflexively kicked against his mattress to distance himself from the figure as a brown aura enveloped them, trail towards Jordan to flood his senses with the pungent scent. "W - Who's there?" he nervously shouted.

  "Calm the fuck down." Jago sighed in annoyance as he reached towards Jordan's head.

  "Could've announced yourself." Jordan grumbled to himself as he sat upright, allowing his brother to tend to his gauze.

  If Jago heard the complaint, he surprisingly ignored it. He remained silent, seemed to not even breathe as he unwound the gauze with wide loops around Jordan's head, allowing the red-orange glow of light to permeate his eyelids with each orbit of his hands. Jordan couldn't help but twitch in excitement once the pressure holding down his eyelids released. He peeled his eyes open slowly, then blinked rapidly while looking around at the darkness slowly fading out of existence, revealing the outlines of his bed, his quilted blankets, the surrounding furniture, and Jago's disgruntled expression.

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  He continued staring as the light brightened and eventually settled into focus. As it did, Jago's skin rose in contrast until it vibrantly popped, revealing small blemishes Jordan was certain he never noticed before. Jago's once-sandy skin now glowed like creamed coffee. A stubble of black hairs, probably fractions of a millimeter long, traced the underside and front of his chin and neck, growing longer as one went down until they crawled out of his leather vest like invasive insects.

  "What. The fuck. Are you staring at!!?" Jago snapped.

  "Oh, uh..." Jordan stalled as his eyes randomly darted around the room, looking for an answer until a glint of light above Jago's shoulder caught his attention. "What's that?"

  Jago's eyes followed Jordan's finger to his shoulder, and then to the wall behind him. Before he chuckled softly to himself, shaking his head. "My rank." He turned back to Jordan with a scowl of half-disappointment, half-annoyance.

  From Jordan's perspective, the object beyond the gilded tip of his finger resembled a small, dull-orange, star-like sphere that seemed to glow without radiating light and stayed in place relative to Jago as he shifted his weight from leg to leg. The sphere twitched occasionally as he continued to stare, as if it were glitching out of existence entirely. A reminder to the feebleminded that such visual augmentations were not real. "Sixty-nine thousand points. Why am I not surprised?" Jordan commented as he squinted at the number inscribed on the star, appearing like a continent of obsidian amidst infernal seas. "That makes you what, a D-Ranker?" He snorted mockingly.

  "You're not entirely hopeless, it seems." Jago grunted to himself before explaining. "Everyone's Merit is displayed through augmented reality. If you've been introduced, their names will be displayed as well. Otherwise, it'll be blank."

  Jordan took a glance at the red orb floating at the top of his vision and sighed at the comparatively small number. "I see."

  "The number you see up there is yours." Jago explained as he turned for the door. "Get dressed, then read about it on the way to the hall. It's breakfast time."

  ...

  "Make sure you read about your other implants as well," Jago said sternly after Jordan emerged from his room minutes later. "We'll be upset if you don't."

  Jordan silently sneered at both the assumption that he'd care about his siblings being upset and Jago's orderly tone. In truth, he didn't need to be told to learn anything about Merit or Campaign. As that was already a part of his plan.

  It was well known amongst the Astros siblings that Jordan was among the more intelligent children birthed by their father; due in no small part to their mother tailoring their genes for such things. Yet, his apprehensiveness to study particular subjects served as a source of contempt among his siblings. From their perspective, Jordan's gifts were almost wasted on his seemingly half-assed efforts. From his, however, some things; traveling to other lands; exploring other cultures; learning the limits of a transhuman existence; those things and others were better learned through experience rather than study. In his opinion, learning as much as he could about the many civilizations orbiting the sun prior to exploring them would only ruin the fun of it. The surprise would be non-existent. The wanderlust slain by the mere presence of expectation, relegating him to the meager comparison of what was witnessed to what he thought he knew prior to his arrival.

  He just hated no one else in the Clan understood. Perhaps except their father.

  Throughout the Solar system, optical scanners and other sensory implants Jordan received were a standard sensory suite that was sold for next-to-nothing. They were practically given out to the public and commonly referred to as the next evolution of cellphones and tablets used on old-Earth. Through the neural interface, simply thinking of the internet summoned an augmented panel in the center of Jordan's vision, prompting him with a basic search engine. After repeating the word, 'Merit,' in his head, the words quickly filled the search bar before screen quickly refreshed with a wall of text, causing Jordan to grunt in annoyance.

  On a whim, Jordan reached out towards the panel and halted in place as it glitched into his hand. Jago's steps grew more distant in the back of his mind as Jordan stared, dumbfounded, at his hand. Though he knew it wasn't real, physically, through the sensors inside his cybernetic fingers, there was a slight warmth and soft buzzing sensation that trickled up Jordan's arms from the panel, wholeheartedly fooling his brain into thinking he actually held something in his hand.

  Not knowing what to do next, Jordan turned awkwardly in place; panel swaying in a frustrated stupor before he threw it out in front of him like a frisbee. Just as a physical projectile would, the panel spun as it arced towards the floor. Deflecting slightly to the left just before it mutedly slapped against the checkered stone. The backdrop and border seemed to shatter into oblivion upon impact, leaving only the cascading paragraphs to stretch and elongate along the floor of the hall.

  'Nice.' Jordan grinned to himself, resuming his pace.

  Starting from the day they were born and ending at their death, Galilean citizens remained under almost constant evaluation by the various symbiotic AI governing the habitats and the moons they orbited, taking and granting points for virtually any action taken. By adhering to the core Galilean values of strength, honor, and independence and showcasing skill, talent, or aptitude in whatever endeavors one pursued, one's standard of living would vastly increase as they were promoted through the ranks.

  Establishing the rewards and punishments and the assignment of points for all citizens in the Galilean Powers was handled by Archer, the resident, symbiotic AI dwelling in the head of the Powers' founder and ruler, Bartholomew Amory; he who rules Io. The points themselves operated on a cumulative system, and were highly regulated across virtually all fields of life. After reaching a pre-established cap, a citizen would automatically be promoted to the next rank and be granted the additional rewards permitted by their rank. The ranks, on the other hand, increased exponentially from one to the next and were represented by the various types of stars, from smallest to largest. The lowest and most populated E-Rank had a cap of 1,000 points and was represented by a red dwarf star while S-Rank, at the highest, had a cap of 1-trillion points and was represented by a large, blue-white, O-type star.

  And as of yet, there was not a single S-Ranker in the Powers.

  "If you're chasing Merit, I imagine you're going on Campaign?" Jago paused at the junction leading towards the dining hall with a curious grin wrinkled over his face. "If so, I recommend going to Ganymede."

  "Why?" Jordan asked dismissively.

  "Look it up and find out for yourself." Jago chuckled as he continued on his way. Then turned again to call over his shoulder a second later. "Did you read about your other implants?"

  "Didn't need to." Jordan sighed with impatient frustration. "Sensory implants are all synced to my optics. I can see sounds and smells. I have echolocation, IR, and UV vision; augmented and virtual reality. My ears and nose passively tune out displeasureable inputs. Everything I see is recorded and my eyes are basically supercomputers with built in radios, servers, and network capabilities." Jordan paused during a few paces to tap at his chin in contemplation before shrugging. "On top of that. The respirocytes half my blood was replaced with have increased my respiratory efficiency by over two-hundred percent. And, besides negating the risk of stroke, the bends, or decompression sickness, the NanoLung will keep my brain oxygenated after cardiac arrest. Anything I miss?"

  "Fair enough." Jago mumbled contemptuously as he stepped through the dining hall's entrance.

  The hall was an oval-shaped room of stone walls and polished wood floors encircled with cupboards, basins and a large AutoChef along the rear wall. A round table overshadowed by an antlered chandelier occupied the center of the space, around which a plethora of velvet-cushioned, throne-like seats were neatly arranged. Directly opposing the door, placed before a large window, was a slightly larger seat in which their father sat, crowded by both toddler booths and a few dust lined chairs on either side.

  Jordan scanned the heads present as he orbited the table in search of an empty seat. A quarter of the way around, he slid into a chair between James and their younger sister, the 29th child of the Clan, Agnes.

  Before his rear fully settled into his chair, a knife-like elbow primly dug into Jordan's ribs. "What was it like, Jordy?" Agnes giggled.

  Jordan recoiled in his seat before turning to Agnes with claw-like hands and a frown akin to a Japanese-opera mask. "Don't make me do it!" He warned.

  Agnes fell across the arm of her seat and threw her arms up in mock-surrender. Then covered her mouth as a soft giggle erupted from her lips. Along with Florence, Agnes was among the few only children in the Clan. She was born a little over an Earth-year after Jordan and his two brothers and strongly took after her mother, giving her pale skin with vibrant brown hair that cradled an oval-shaped face. Still, like most of their siblings, she retained the deep set, hawk-like eyes of their father that shone a vibrant forest green.

  Jordan glanced over her shoulder. Where, unlike his older siblings, only her name was displayed on a banner. He quickly glanced away from her expectant gaze, turning his attention to the console on the arm of his seat instead. "You know I can't tell you, Agnes," he mumbled.

  Jordan ignored the subsequent pouting of his little sister as he passively flicked through the console on his chair to peruse the menu. In truth, he knew it was only an act. A way to pass the time until Agnes' attention found something else to latch onto, so that he could resume his survey without the shadow of guilt hanging over him. Surely enough, the moon-faced girl turned to her other side to talk to Lila after a few moments, permitting Jordan to order his usual breakfast in peace. An assorted fruit bowl, egg sandwich and a bowl of grilled salmon and rice.

  Jordan resumed scanning the present heads and star-like orbs after the confirmations on his chair's console flashed away. Florence, the twin brothers, Romulus and Remus, Leo, Massimo, and Lydia all shared the same dull-orange glow as Jago. D-Rankers, with numbers ranging from Florence’s 28k to Lydia’s 84k. Theo, on the other hand, was the only present C-Ranker, with a yellow, sun-like orb floating above his shoulders to proudly highlight his 564k points.

  'I wonder what rank Vera is.’ Jordan thought to himself after glancing at Lila’s B-type star and her staggering 2.7 billion points.

  Any further surveys were immediately cut short by the plates of food rising onto the table from a system of chutes in the foundation. Jordan reached out before his plate even halted before him to toss the first pieces of egg and goat cheese into his mouth. Then froze as his eyes hummed within his skull. In the next instant, a familiar picture, no larger than a playing card, augmented itself onto the table beside Jordan's plate. The tan-skinned woman had a cloud of curly hair that she pulled over her ear before puckering out a pair of vibrant, red lips towards the camera and quickly fading.

  [New Message: Jemenna Desai.]

  "Oi!" Jordan nudged James with his elbow. "Did Mom just sent you a message?"

  James continued to stare directly ahead and monotonously chew his food with half-lidded eyes. Jordan stared emptily at the movements of his jaw and recoiled in disgust as chunks of eggs and steak fell from his brother's stubble. James then swallowed hard and violently stabbed a chunk of meat with his fork before turning to Jordan, half-lidded eyes blinking slowly. "Don't talk to me while I'm eating, Jordan."

  Jordan's eyes nearly rolled out of their sockets as he bit back the urge to tell James about himself. Instead, he tossed a grape into his mouth before settling into his sandwich.

  "She did," James answered a few seconds later. "Knowing her, she probably sent all of us a gift. You plan to visit her?"

  "Actually, I-"

  A loud tapping of metal on glass cut off Jordan's words. His head snapped to his father, rising from his chair as he rapped the edge of his cup with the tip of his finger, settling the perpetual murmur of the dining hall in an instant.

  During the brief pause, 14 wine glasses were lifted from the tables' chutes and positioned themselves in front of the ranked Galileans and their father.

  "I'd like to congratulate James, Jordan, and Jacques on completing their trials and simultaneously raise a toast to their good fortune." Villan plucked a glass from the table and raised it up to eye level. "I look forward to seeing each of your developments as you rise to the top." Villan raised his glass a degree higher and soon after, each of his children who were of age followed.

  It wasn't Jordan's first time drinking wine, but it was sweeter than he remembered and of a golden hue, like honey, rather than the deep red color he was familiar with. After his first cautious sip, he downed the glass in one large gulp before setting it down on the table as gently as he could.

  "As you travel across the Powers, or the System even, always remember that New Bran Castle will harbor you safe passage." Their father continued in a noticeably bleak tone. "For only a week at a time."

  "Hah!" Jago laughed from across the table as he loudly slammed his glass down. "Here it comes!"

  "As of 48 hours from now." Their father continued. "You are no longer welcome to live within the walls of New Bran Castle. You'll not even be allowed to return until you're promoted to D-Rank. And you may not leave until I let you."

  As his arms spread to his sides, Villan's face warmed up into a dark smile that stretched from ear to ear. "Immediately after breakfast, you three are to report to the training grounds, where you'll learn how to truly fight like an Astros."