In the past, Jake used to have a hearty breakfast before going to work. A bowl of milk, a generous amount of cereal, a piece of fruit, and maybe a cup of tea or coffee. The typical French breakfast—sugar before anything else. But that was more than five years ago, back when he was still living in his uncle's villa.
Back then, he had no real sense of the value of food. He was well-fed, without a care in the world. What Jake hadn't realized in those days was that after the False Third War, when all the major and infamous cities were bombed, there had been a genuine shortage of space and manpower. More than half of every country's population had lived in these towns and capitals.
The areas within a radius of dozens of kilometers around these cities became wastelands. The inland regions, usually less populated and reserved for agriculture or pastures, became the new metropolises. Capitals and other iconic cities were rebuilt, for the most part keeping their old names, with slight variations to mark the transition to the new era.
Paris, where his parents had worked and died, had been resurrected as New Paris. It was built right in the center of France, in a place that previously had nothing but cows. Needless to say, it took up a lot of space—far too much, in fact. This meant fewer arable lands.
And so, food abundance came to an end.
The "good news" was that, depending on the country, the population had been halved. That was supposedly something to be happy about. Cough... always optimistic. Positive attitude, no matter the situation.
It should have worked out—less space, fewer people, a winning combo. But reality had other plans.
Driven by fear, people reproduced like rabbits. In just twenty years, the average couple was having three or four children, sometimes five or even more.
Welfare was initially quite generous for those who had lost a loved one, or even just their jobs. The false sense of security during the early days of the nuclear winter only drove people into even greater desperation.
Population numbers quickly returned to pre-False World War levels, but food production didn't keep pace. As a result, anything food-related saw its prices rise sharply.
For those who couldn't afford proper meals, vegan powder blends became their new best friend. To preserve some semblance of the pleasure of eating, insects were also included in these "Happy Meal" blends for those who couldn't shake off their carnivorous cravings.
Junk food and sugary drinks, however, were still affordable...
Anyway, no breakfast for Jake. This crap twice a day was already disgusting enough. Oh, and let's not forget the iodine tablet twice a day—the radiation levels were still above normal. Without advances in medicine and nanobiotics, cancer would have taken out a significant portion of the remaining survivors.
He soon hurried out of his studio located in uptown New Paris. Though, to be fair, most districts looked pretty much the same—the city was brand new and built in record time. Except for a few exceptions, accommodations were essentially all social housing during those first years.
He hopped into the first cab he found, quickly relaxing as the scenery blurred past the window. The driver was silent, lost in her own thoughts—a middle-aged woman with dark hair streaked with gray from worry and sleep deprivation.
He never arrived at his workplace.
Just a few minutes after getting into the car, a pure white flash turned the world around him into blinding whiteness. The sound of screeching tires made his hair stand on end as the cabbie stomped on the brakes. Jake's head slammed into the front seat as the vehicle came to a sudden stop.
BANG!
Stars whirled around him, adding dazzling new colors to the flash afterimages burned into his retinas. Screams from all sides hammered at his skull, preventing him from getting a grip. The sounds of collisions and pile-ups only made things worse.
After a while, his sight returned, bringing with it a scene of chaos. A few people were having epileptic seizures on the sidewalk due to the sudden burst of light. One unlucky kid had collapsed in the middle of a crosswalk—that's how the first pile-up had happened.
Another driver had panicked and veered off the road, striking a few grandmothers coming out of a grocery store before embedding himself in an electric pole. Sadly, he wasn't the only one who'd lost his composure. Blood and overturned vehicles were everywhere. It was a truly dreadful sight.
Jake raised his eyes to where the flash had come from. They nearly popped out of their sockets at what he saw—it was so unbelievable, he could hardly keep his cool.
For at that very moment, a huge silver metallic sphere was silently hovering in the sky.
Mysterious futuristic blue lines of light roamed across its smooth, polished surface. It was enormous—gigantic enough to cast its shadow over the entire New Paris. Even more impressive was the glimpse of an even larger sphere much higher in the sky.
If his intuition was right, it was bigger than the moon.
Good heavens! It was a spaceship. A fucking alien battleship!
They were reliving Independence Day right in front of their eyes. Quickly, the other bystanders noticed the alien craft as well. A new wave of screams and shrieks erupted, this time with even greater intensity.
However, it didn't last long. The blue lines of light rapidly thickened, becoming brighter and brighter. After what seemed like an eternity, something sprang out.
Millions of bat-sized silver spheres gushed out, spreading rapidly toward the ground. Toward them.
People needed no further encouragement to turn and sprint for their lives. Jake even saw an eighty-year-old hunchback with a walking stick throw it away and sprint like a teenager on steroids. Adrenaline could truly work miracles, though the old man would surely pay the price for it afterward.
Jake didn't run.
He had never been especially brave, but he wasn't a coward either. Most importantly, he was rational. These spherical drones were absurdly fast, almost breaking the sound barrier—so why run? They'd be on them in ten seconds at the latest.
In fact, they were even faster. Before he could register anything, a silver sphere was in front of him.
A blue light scanned him silently, and then the same blue lines spread across its surface. A black metal liquid poured out, flowing toward his right arm. The liquid circled his wrist, each revolution drawing it closer until it finally settled.
A few seconds later, what looked like a shiny limited Apple Watch edition—sorry, alien bracelet—was snug around his wrist. Glancing around, he saw many people with the same vacant look, staring at their new accessory. Some fools were still in a full-speed dash, running like it was the end of the world. They, too, were soon caught by the drones.
The situation quickly settled. People began snapping out of their state of fear one by one. There was still blood and bodies everywhere, but the authorities would deal with that.
To everyone's great relief, the drones flew back to the silver sphere, which in turn soared upwards, vanishing as abruptly as it had come—like a fleeting memory. The enormous moon-like ship also flashed and disappeared like a spark, leaving behind an unsettling aftertaste.
It had been their first official encounter with extraterrestrials—a historic moment—but it was already over. It was time to return to reality.
People who had to file accident reports did so, those who needed to call their insurance or an ambulance made their calls. Fortunately, in the 22nd century, most vehicles drove autonomously, and emergency procedures were largely automated.
The few car crashes were caused by diehard enthusiasts who refused to give up the thrill of driving. Most bus or cab drivers didn't even drive—they just sat there, cashing in on their passengers.
"Vzzzzt! Vzzzzt!"
His phone vibrated in his shorts pocket, playing some epic tune that was far more pleasant than his alarm clock. Smartphones were now powerful enough to rival supercomputers from the early 21st century, yet their essential nature hadn't changed much. Waterproof, malleable like chewing gum, nice holograms—but fundamentally the same.
He answered the call. It was his cousin, Anya. It had been three weeks since they last talked.
"Jake, tell me you're okay?" she said, her voice trembling with worry.
"The number is not available now. Please try again later."
"Fucking asshole!" she yelled, enraged. "Here I was, worrying for nothing, damn idiot! What am I supposed to do with you?"
"I'm fine, thanks. I'll call in sick for today. I need to figure out this thing on my wrist. I can't exactly go to work like this."
"Okay, Jake. You certainly won't be the only one taking a day off. I need to hang up. Call me if you need anything! Bye!"
Anya's calls were always like that. She'd check on him, and then end the call right after. They had been closer when they were younger, but her full-time job with the Earth government took up all her time. Today's events had probably added even more to her plate.
Jake called in sick without issue, then returned home.
The time had finally come to discover what secrets this alien bracelet was hiding.