473 Puppetry on an Imperial Scale

I understand it’s difficult, just try your best,] Aceso said, scribbling something on her notepad as she calmly watched Teddy laying on the couch.

The silence stretched on for a while, then Aceso suggested, [Why not start from what’s easy to remember and go from there?]

Teddy nodded, then closed her eyes and started working backward from the moment she regained consciousness. "Well, there was the pain. I think I heard somewhere that you’re supposed to forget pain after it's gone, aren’t you?”

Aceso nodded. [That’s generally the case, yes.]

"Right, well... I remember it....” Teddy continued working back toward the lump of “new stuff” that had been embedded in her brain. “I think I can maybe show you? Can I try that?” she asked.

[Go ahead. Nothing in here can be damaged.] Aceso smiled encouragingly at the young woman.

Teddy raised her arm and pointed her palm at the ceiling. “Now all I have to do is, uhh... think cold. Like, cold thoughts, not the word cold. Oh ow ow ow! ” she yelped as her hand was covered in a thick layer of hoarfrost. “What the fuck!?”

Aceso scribbled another entry in her notepad and said, [Interesting.] She set her notepad aside and waved her hand, dispelling the ice from Teddy’s hand. [It looks like you gained the ability to create ice! How exciting!] Her eyes gleamed.

The two continued chatting and exploring Teddy’s new “blessing”; Teddy was willing to take all the time it required to figure out her new ability. She thought it was definitely the coolest thing to ever happen to her in her life.

During the time Teddy and Aceso were exploring Teddy’s new blessing, more and more people began waking up in their own instances of Aceso’s hall of healing. Their families were informed and rushed to the cubes where their loved ones were, only to be met by the disappointing news that they were all now in VR undergoing in-depth evaluations before they could be discharged. The information spread like a brush fire around the world, creating much speculation as to what exactly a "blessing” entailed.

The first few million had finally woken up, but none of them had been discharged yet. Inquiries flooded in and unrest began simmering below the surface as parents and relatives worriedly awaited the release of their loved ones. They had been told that the final evaluations would take some time, but when has rationality ever stopped a parent from worrying about their child?

Meanwhile, as the data collection continued, conspiracy theorists continued plowing the fertile field; the newest conspiracy theories were that the people in the pods were being indoctrinated, and they were imagining a dystopia where the government would use the new superhumans to keep the rest of the population oppressed under their thumb, using the hundreds, if not thousands of comic books, movies, and other fictional media as “proof” of their concerns. After all, if it can be imagined, it would be done... by someone, at least.

It wasn’t an entirely new conspiracy theory, either. The public release of the simulation had sparked concerns that the empire could turn people into puppets if they were logged into it even once, which was half of the reason that hundreds of millions of people had refused imperial citizenship in the first place. But now that conspiracy theory had had new life breathed into it as parents rushed to the cubes and attempted to force the staff to immediately discharge their children, consequences be damned.

In absolute terms, though, the parents that were raising a fuss were in the minority. Millions of people had woken up and begun the final data collection process, while only hundreds of thousands of parents had reacted negatively. The vast majority remained calm, secure in the knowledge that the empire would give them an explanation and everything would work out fine, so they could just wait outside the restricted areas and see for themselves.

“They’re saying that a few million of the so-called ‘blessed’ people have already woken up and will be released soon. So how come the shepherd isn’t awake yet? Wasn’t he one of the first to begin receiving the blessing?”

Katarina Markov, Rick's assistant, cast a death glare at the doctor overseeing the blessing process for the cult. And in fact, there had even been a few cultists that had collapsed after him that had already woken up as well, though she didn’t care about them. The only person she was concerned about at that particular moment was Rick.

Although it might seem like it was a good thing for her, as her authority would only last until the shepherd woke up, she didn’t have a single thought of usurping him in her mind. She still needed his help to accomplish her revenge, after all, which was something he had promised her when he personally recruited her.

“That... the...” the doctor stammered.

“That what?” Katarina practically screamed in his face.

“The people in the cubes have medical pods overseeing the process and helping accelerate it. We don’t. And I don’t know why some people are waking up sooner than others or how the whole thing even works!” the doctor exclaimed.

“And without knowing what they know, I can only do my best. Shoot me if you want, but you won’t be able to find anyone else to do my job before your people start dropping like flies! You’ve seen the ones that woke up already, they look like long-term anorexia sufferers because YOU,” he pointed at Katarina and shook his finger at her, "have been ordering me to concentrate on your leader and keep him healthy even if it costs you everyone else! So he’ll be fine!”

“How long?” asked Katarina.

“I don’t know... a week, tops,” the doctor hastily replied. He couldn’t be bothered anymore and was tired of them threatening to kill him. He wished they would just get on with it and do it already; it would be better than the constant fear, anyway.

“A week? Fine. If he doesn’t wake up by next week....” Katarina coldly looked at the doctor, who shivered despite his newfound resolve. Then she turned and walked out of the room, silently closing the door behind her and leaving the doctor to his own thoughts.

In orbit, unlike on the ground, things were going very smoothly. The initial anchor had already begun extending from the “bottom” of Ceres Station, with cameras focused on it from all angles streaming the process live.

Ships were making low passes over the exterior of “Earth’s second moon”, using their tractor beams to vacuum up all of the loose material; other shuttlecraft were flying back and forth from the surface, constantly making round trips with what looked like shipping containers; and giant swathes of constructor swarms were scuttling here and there doing god knows what. The scene was lively, to say the least, and people watching the process live could always find something to focus on as the anchor cable grew longer and longer with every passing minute.

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