'I sought my soul,
But my soul I could not see.
I sought your God,
But your God eluded me.
.
I then sought you as I had nothing left,
My foolishness took over,
And now, of you, I am bereft I have nothing left.'
- LOVE:less act 2 -.
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The Year 2190 – 1st of January. Genf – The Capital of the Lands of Alexithymia.
Months had passed since the King's groundbreaking order, 'The Emotional Behavior,' was put into action. It marked the dawn of a new era—one in which the very core of human identity, emotion, would be controlled, suppressed, and manipulated. Under Alexithymia's vision, emotions were no longer free, no longer personal. They were standardized, shaped into a mold shared across all citizens, a template forged by the will of one man.
Before the 'Emotional Behavior' initiative had been unveiled, Alexithymia's regime had distributed a device—tiny, almost insignificant in appearance—that citizens were forced to wear. It was called the 'Kanjöga.' A collar, seemingly harmless, yet it connected directly to the spinal cord, silently working to regulate and suppress the emotions of its wearer. Alexithymia himself had led countless conferences, promoting his vision of a perfectly controlled society.
"Humans," he had declared, "tend to make irreparable mistakes due to their emotional impulses—anger, sadness, jealousy, love—these forces control us, govern us, without our understanding or consent. But it is not their existence that is dangerous; it is their unchecked power. It is time we remove the uncontrollable chaos of emotions and replace it with stability. We must be controlled to be truly free."
His words were persuasive, and his project gained the support of many. Emotions, once considered an intrinsic part of the human experience, were now deemed a flaw. To Alexithymia, emotional control wasn't just a benefit; it was a mandate. His citizens, stripped of their emotional excesses, would be pure, focused, and productive.
The positive responses from the public were overwhelming. And soon, the Mitera System—a complex cyber intelligence network designed to monitor and enforce the project's implementation—spread across Alexithymia, quietly ensuring compliance with the new order. Those who resisted, who failed to adapt, were quietly eliminated, their lives dismissed in the name of a perfect society.
Criticism from the outside world was inevitable. Some decried the King as a heartless dictator, a tyrant who had ripped the soul from his people. Others whispered that he was a savior, a messiah who had unlocked the true potential of humanity. Whatever side one took, Alexithymia's influence could not be denied. The land was prospering, its people more disciplined and productive than ever before. Rumors began to circulate, painting Alexithymia's kingdom as a utopia—the perfect place to live, where one could find safety, stability, and a decent life.
A new promise was born: "A land where everyone could live in peace, untouched by the chaos of the outside world." The message spread, and soon, the world's desperate masses sought to join the utopia Alexithymia had created. Immigrants, refugees, all desperate to escape their own struggles, rushed towards the capital, hoping to stake their claim in the promised land.
The King, however, had anticipated this. Within months of the overwhelming influx, he declared that the quota of accepted immigrants had been met. The borders, once open to the weary and the lost, were now sealed. No one was allowed to enter. Anyone who tried would be met with the harshest punishment: the Death Penalty.
But the 'Eastern Borders,' which separated Alexithymia from the resource-rich lands of Elpida, remained a point of contention. Here, the natural resources—clean, pure water from the depths of the Les Alps mountains—had made the region a target for bandits and vagabonds, mostly from Elpida, who sought to access the precious resource or infiltrate the capital.
Whispers about Elpida were everywhere. Some claimed its citizens had been isolated for generations, never in contact with others from the outside world. Rumors spread that because of Gan the population was on decline, with very few children born in the last few decades who could sustain themselves and were not affected by the virus as the elders. There were even darker whispers—about human trafficking, about desperate acts of survival at the borders, or the recent coup d'etat—but no one could confirm or deny this information They remained as rumors, adding to the growing mystery of the neighboring land.
Alexithymia's border security, though strict, struggled to control the growing numbers of those seeking entry. In response, the King had deployed his elite force—'The Keepers'—to handle the crisis. It was a special unit, composed of six individuals selected for their exceptional physical and mental abilities, each of them equipped with cutting-edge enhancements to ensure their dominance over any threat.
The Keepers had a strict hierarchy: from 'Prima,' the highest rank, to 'Seconda,' 'Terzo,' 'Quarta,' 'Quinto,' and finally 'Sesto.' Quarta, however, was different from the rest. She had been chosen for her exceptional abilities, but she was also the only Keeper who was not fitted with the Kanjöga. Instead, she wore a device known as the Load Balancer—a failsafe designed to restrict her physical capabilities if her emotions ever became unstable. She was the only one permitted to retain the full spectrum of her emotions, a crucial element of the experiment the King himself had devised for his own purposes. These emotions—raw, unfiltered—could be both her greatest asset and her greatest downfall, depending on the delicate balance between control and chaos.
While her fellow Keepers were numb to the world around them, Quarta remained a volatile force, driven by the emotions she carried. It was this very volatility that made her a perfect weapon. She was a paradox—a symbol of control in a society that demanded compliance, yet a reflection of the human spirit Alexithymia sought to suppress.