"Wow," I murmured, staring at the glass dome above my head that filtered out the blazing sunlight, reducing the heat and making the temperature pleasantly warm.
The Khaiber is encased in a glass-like dome, though I doubt it's actual glass. Who would use such a fragile material to protect an entire city? I assumed its purpose was protection, but who knows—maybe it serves a different function.
If I hadn't looked keenly enough, it would have been impossible to notice the dome at first glance.
Khaiber, a sprawling megacity built to house over 167 million people, is a marvel of engineering and resilience. Spanning an area of 33,750 square kilometers, the city is divided into hexagonal sectors, each a self-sustaining unit designed to accommodate up to a million residents.
To withstand the planet's violent quakes, structures are built with floating foundations and seismic dampers, while towering flood barriers protect against massive tsunamis. Most of the population lives in subterranean zones, shielded from relentless UV radiation under reinforced domes of photochromatic glass. Aboveground spaces are reserved for agriculture in towering vertical farms and energy collection through solar arrays.
The city's survival hinges on its self-sufficiency: desalination plants provide water, fusion reactors power the infrastructure, and vertical farms ensure a steady food supply. Flood channels redirect tsunami waters to underground reservoirs, and the elevated megastructures are built to endure the most devastating natural disasters.
Access to Khaiber is tightly controlled. The only way in or out is via underground trains, with entry points located over a hundred kilometers from the city's perimeter.
How do I know this? There's an information board right in front of me, displaying all these details as soon as I exited the underground tunnel. I didn't understand half of it, but one thing was clear—Khaiber is entirely self-sufficient.
As for its architecture… Why does it feel like there's more emphasis on the use of stone and creating sublime aesthetics than on the functionality of withstanding extreme conditions? Or is it truly the end of the Pre-Disaster Era?
"You seem impressed," Verna remarked, looking away from the device in her hand. It seemed to allow her to communicate over long distances.
"Well, yeah. This is impressive—who would've thought such a humongous city could exist... not in the slums, at least."
"You underestimate Khaiber by calling it a city. It's large enough to have been considered a country five decades ago, from what I've heard." She glanced at me, and once again, I wished I could dig a hole and hide.
Officer Verna didn't seem bothered by my appearance, unlike the people of the city who kept throwing me strange looks. I even saw a mother cover her child's eyes to prevent them from looking at me.
We were currently standing in front of the entry and exit gate of one of the trains that transported people from outside the Stronghold or between Strongholds in the Eastern Quadrant.
Randall stood beside Verna on my right, while Elena—the girl who seemed like she was living in her own world—kept her distance from the three of us.
The girl wore a white dress that reached just past her knees. She was tall and slender, her nearly flawless skin marred only by a cut mark over her left wrist.
Her most striking features were her almond-shaped eyes and gray irises, which made her look incredibly beautiful when paired with her gunmetal silver hair.
"Why use glass for the dome, though?" I asked Officer Verna.
She looked at me, tilting her head slightly, as if puzzled.
Was that a dumb question? I didn't know how photochromatic glass worked—maybe it had the ability to withstand acid rain, and my question just revealed my ignorance. Shouldn't I be given a bit of leeway, considering I'd spent half my life in the slums?
"Was that a weird question?" I asked meekly.
"No, of course not," she replied. "I just didn't expect that to be the first question someone would ask upon entering the Stronghold." Her expression didn't change, but there was a hint of amusement in her sapphire eyes.
"As for your question, it's not actually glass but something similar. It's called Claroms Shard," she explained. "It's about a thousand times tougher than regular glass."
"Then I suppose the stone used for the buildings is also different—better than metal," I ventured.
"Yeah," she replied curtly. "You can read."
Officer Verna didn't seem surprised by this revelation, nor did I expect her to be. I nodded. I didn't blame her for being out of the loop regarding my literacy, to be honest.
In the nine years I spent in the slums, I'd only met two people who could read and write.
In a few minutes, an armored vehicle, similar to the van Officer Verna had used but slightly more refined and appealing, rolled up in front of us.
The back door lifted with a hissing sound, revealing an interior with two benches facing each other. The space was illuminated by a soft yellowish light.
We stepped inside, and the vehicle rumbled forward. This time, it took only ten minutes before we had to disembark.
In front of us stood a towering structure, massive in size. People dressed in formal uniforms or everyday clothing were bustling in and out of the building.
"These are the living quarters provided for Runebounds and Carries by House Solvor," Randall explained as we entered the premises.
I followed behind both officers, with Elena walking on my left. I tried my best not to look at her.
Soon, we passed through the threshold of a massive double door and stepped inside the quarters.
That's when I realized what a Runebound was.
People walked past us in shimmering armor made of silver and gold, wielding weapons unlike anything I'd ever seen. One carried a blade too long to be called a sword, and another—a hammer larger than me—was effortlessly borne by a man barely half my height.
And the pressure they exuded... It wasn't suffocating, but it was the kind of primal fear you feel in the presence of something that could snuff out your life in an instant.
All these people—no, Runebounds—hurried past us as if they had somewhere important to be.
I stared around in awe as we were led to a more secluded area. There, a woman in a much more elaborate and colorful uniform than I was accustomed to approached Officer Verna and Randall.
After a brief conversation, we were assigned rooms.
A room. A fricking room. Not a tent, but an actual place to live—all for me and me alone!
"I'm going to cry," I whispered, standing in front of the door as Officer Verna accompanied me and then left, saying I would receive necessities and further instructions soon.
After she disappeared down the corridor, I looked around. My room was tucked into the corner of the hallway, with four more rooms adjacent to mine. One of them, I noticed, had been assigned to the silver-haired girl.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open.
The interior was simple yet luxurious by my standards—a bed, a desk, a cupboard with a mirror, and a metal hanger. In one corner, there was another door, likely leading to a toilet. The room was illuminated by a pale, soothing light.
"This is heaven," I murmured to myself, stepping inside.
Maybe... maybe it's okay to cry a little.