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Halcyon Station


By Nicole FennPublished 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 7 min read
Halcyon Station
Photo by Alexander Popov on Unsplash


"Denoting a period of time in the past that was idyllically happy & peaceful."

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say, they've never had the comfort of a digital oxygen mask. To live a digital life. To be born within a world and have the option of either ascension or damnation. To choose at a mature age, join your family and society, or stay in a world with no future - derived of paranoia and fear. To have access to a never-ending plane of possibility, everything safe, and orderly, and routine.

This was to live the digital life, the perfect life.

Axperian was there to give the opportunity, to present the choice with each child's 13th birthday. Before this milestone, children would live on the edge of the city, their parents allowed to visit and nurture their needs, their decisions; but still safe from the outsiders who rejected the perfect life. Some children would be stolen from this safety, the desperate paranoid snatching them away from their decisions and raising them in the outskirts of the city, to live in reality, and teach them the dangers of the digital life.

However, if a child chose the digital life - the perfect life - it was routine for Axperian to implant a small microchip into the child's brain, and the child would have access to Eden; to The Grid.

The Grid was the internet incarnate, a navigational cyber plane that those who had access could move through like neurons firing in the brain, like roads in a city. The Grid is another plane of existence, a perfect existence, a wireframe, a technological plane created by Axperian where humans and society have found themselves to be enveloped in, willfully so. A virtual city itself that houses all that life needs, all that people would think they would want and desire. Companies, businesses, schools, housing, stores, all created to provide and reflect what life was before Axperian, before The Grid. The halcyon period, the paranoid would say. The barbaric era, those within The Grid would counter.

Who would want to reject order? Reject perfection and safety? Those who did within The Grid would face the void, permanent deletion if someone were to stray from The Grid's wireframe, the roads within this system. And, as there was in reality, there continues to be in The Grid when speaking of legality; there were legal and illegal wireframes, roads - secrets. None dared to defy these wireframes, to poke further into these secrets.

Yet, where there is Eden, there is temptation, defiance; those who are able to see even after choosing The Grid, even after giving Axperian their loyalty. Those whose curiosity is too great to ignore what might be wrong with their surroundings, with those who can - and cannot - be trusted.


It shocked her, shocked her! It's never done that before. She automatically drew her index finger to her lips to soothe the sting of the electric shock, humming in annoyance as she glared back at the wireframe in front of her. She's been constructing this wireframe for years, knows the ins and outs of the code and it shocks her, biting back as she started to think that maybe this wireframe was finally detected, finally retaliating against its maker. The warmth of her breath swirls around her finger, tingling now from the electricity as she removes it to continue to fiddle around with the shorted circuit found earlier.

She kept this wireframe under a tight lock and key, an impossible to guess passcode sealing its entryway, a shorted circuit was concerning as she only had these basic issues when this wireframe was in its infant state. Something, or someone must have discovered it, sabotaged it, and is sabotaging her and her plans.


Stop. She had to keep her cool, take deep breaths to calm the anxiety building now in her chest and settling as a 20 ton weight on her sternum. She couldn't be paranoid, couldn't show any anxiety, someone would pick up on it - especially with her in her now vulnerable wireframe, trying desperately to fix it before Axperian or an android would notice.

The metals hissed as she replaced the fried circuits, sparks flashing against the natural glowing hues around her as she worked quickly with what scrap welding tools she had scrounged together.

Calm, take deep breaths, you got this. Almost done.

The replaced circuits glowed its usual silver once connected again. The device on her wrist chirping as it connected as well and proved a successful replacement. A smile stretched her features with a slew of pleased words dripping from her lips to praise herself.

See, nothing to worry about. No one noticed, nothing was alerted. You're fine.

She was fine. Closing the program on the device, the transparent screen returned to its normal state on her wrist as a band with it also closing her from her wireframe; the invisible bubble she had been temporarily in breaking up and bringing her back into The Grid. She found herself facing the brick wall of the alley she had found shelter, away from potential prying eyes as her feet dropped to touch the gravel road, shoes scuffing and lifting dust. The dust sparkled, little luminescent particles hanging in the air for a few seconds as they settled back down around her.

The bricks in front of her glowed as well with small speckles of luminary pixels both catching the light from around them and glowing on their own accord. She reached out to brush a finger along the bricks, expecting to feel its rough and gritty textures, remembering when her skin felt nothing but a smooth surface. However, all she could think was that Axperian's gotten better at improving The Grid's graphics. They were capable of producing something higher than 10x now? Impressive, to say the least.

There was a buzz of noise that drew her attention away from the deception of the bricks in front of her, brows furrowing until she realized it was the traffic just beyond the alleyway she had crowded herself into. Not cars, but flashes and trails of light, people traveling along The Grid like neurons firing in the brain. Rush hour no doubt, if her wrist band chirping again gave any indication of the time; 6 pm sharp every day, 6 days a week like clockwork.

She heaved a heavy sigh and moved to step from the alley, watching the flashes become brighter as more accumulated along the circuitry of The Grid; before she could blink, the circuits in front of her started to shift and shape, taking on the appearance of a road with the flashes turning into cars, people walking, people biking, the crowds growing as the Halcyon started to take shape to its inhabitants. She must have stayed within her wireframe for a little too long, the city never taking its time to appear to her like this. She had to be careful, if the observation became obvious within time, she'll be suspected and caught.

Calm down, it's ok. You won't get caught, you're smarter than that.

Of course, it was only a matter of time, Patrols have been a lot more difficult lately; stopping random people and doing a scan of their wrist bands to see if they've been in any questionable wireframes as of late. Only a handful have been rendered suspicious, but no one guilty thus far, good for Axperian, dangerous for herself. They were becoming suspicious, that much she could tell, paranoid themselves as they've kept smiles plastered on their faces during the evening news. Masks, obvious, fake masks to hide the worry; and each night she could see the news anchor's lip quiver under the pressure of keeping the smile, even they were starting to break. Perfect.

She smirked towards the crowds in front of her, hands shoving themselves into her jacket's pockets as she waited for a break in the flow of traffic; putting a foot forward to take up any empty space. And just like that she was apart of the flow, the flashes of light firing up and down the wireframes that made up Halcyon, the largest mask to hide The Grid and its filthy secrets.

No matter, she was getting closer and closer to finishing her own wireframe. In due time, she'd have those masks shattered, those guilty exposed.

You're fine, you're ok. Just be patient.


By Nick Fewings on Unsplash

Sci Fi

About the Creator

Nicole Fenn

Young, living - thriving? Writing every emotion, idea, or dream that intrigues me enough to put into a long string of words for others to absorb - in the hopes that someone relates, understands, and appreciates.

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