Prologue

By the year two-thousand five-hundred and twenty-four, the Earth had become a desolate, inhospitable, and dystopian wasteland for most of its remaining inhabitants. Centuries of sporadic, globe-spanning hostilities, epidemics, resource plundering, and climate-related devastation had ravaged the once vibrant green and blue sphere.

The remaining lands were stark, inflexible, and exceptionally violent. Natural resources, nutritious food, and effective medical aid were scarce for the general populace; hope had all but vanished, like a fragile ember awaiting reignition. The elite members of global society and their acolytes had abandoned the waning planet, compelling its remaining residents to fend for themselves.

The five lunar-colonies, numerous orbital habitats, settlements on Mars, and the countless deep-space outposts within the Kuiper Belt near Neptune’s orbit, became their new territories. Off-worlders were indifferent to the plight of those left on Earth, showing no concern for their daily struggles. They chose to forsake their home world’s problems instead of trying to fix them and aid their fellow humans.

Shortly after what many considered to be the final World War; a prolonged conflict that decimated over a third of the remaining human population; a formidable barrier was constructed on the outskirts of Xī’ān, Shǎnxī Province, China. It was built to safeguard their knowledge and preserve their way of life.

The five-story, ten-meter-thick enclosure, wielded a Battery of soldiers, artificial intelligence controlled ground-to-air offensive and defensive missiles, and other armaments. A team of five-thousand two-hundred, dedicated workers, took just over ten years to complete the colossal development project, using the neglected footprint of the G30⁰² Xī’ān Ràochéng Expressway as the underpinning guide, successfully enclosing the capital city of the Shǎnxī Province.

The magnificent eighty-eight kilometre long fortification was an impressive feat of China’s engineering capabilities, rivalling the Great Wall of China, although its total mass did not equate to half of the volume of that particular ancient landmark. The uneven ground and deep ravines, once isolated by the highway’s bridges, were completely sealed off, preventing any infiltration of its stonework.

There were no gates or accessible entranceways within the outer perimeter of the Wall. Admission to the territory it safeguarded, required authorised flight. Any unsanctioned air transport detected by the artificial intelligence system controlling the Wall’s access, would be fired upon within moments of discovery.

The Wall’s battlements were only accessible from the inside, and only the soldiers assigned to sentry duty were given restricted admittance to ascend to the Wall’s uppermost layer, allowing them to patrol the vast perimeter and foresee potential attacks from the safety of the Wall’s great height.

Segments of the Chǎnhé and Bàhé rivers in the east could still flow freely through the Wall, via an intricate latticework of several ten-meter-thick, impermeable metal grids. These fretworks were the only breaches in the Wall, allowing river water to pass through. As the only perceived weak spots, these sections were persistently monitored by the artificial intelligence system and the loyal soldiers of the Chinese Army’s Xī’ān Wall Battery.

These worthy men and women were charged with defending and protecting the Wall’s occupants from the many inhuman dangers that lay outside, even at the cost of their own lives.

Following the CRISPR war (Clustered Regularly Interspaced Short Palindromic Repeats), genetically altered humans and animals were created and exploited by several unscrupulous Earth-based governments, training each asset to invade specific sovereign states.

These soulless entities, revered as elite super soldiers, were unleashed to annihilate any human adult or child in their path. Their merciless actions forced the inhabitants to create more living space as they slaughtered, leaving the buildings and other structures eerily untouched.

Dispersed throughout Earth’s continents by their creators, these super soldiers were a problem that would not simply disappear overnight. After the war had ended, many of these gene-edited monstrosities survived, fending for their lives within the wastelands and passing on their abhorrent traits, mutations, and savagery to their progeny.

Despite their numbers being significantly reduced by the ordinary, human soldiers, sent to exterminate them, they continued to encircle the Wall’s refuge for countless miles. Each remaining entity, ruthlessly claimed territory just outside this isolated domain, creating an ever-present threat.

Inside the Wall, there was still a place where the dying ember of hope still smouldered: the Xī’ān Intercontinental University and its adjacent urban communities. Known to be the only remaining guiding light for the teaching of societal communication and global citizenship, the University had been rebranded, rebuilt, and restored, numerous times, during its fifty-six decades of existence.

Its continued longevity had been sanctioned and endorsed by several Chinese Heads of State, throughout its long and distinguished history. Despite its relatively modest footprint, spanning only several campuses, the University continued to offer an extensive range of exclusive educational programs. These programs allowed for the study of Earth’s languages, literature, world cultures, and archaeological discoveries related to Chinese civilisation.

Within the Wall’s protection, inhabitants enjoyed free, State-owned electricity, water, and heating. This was made possible by the numerous solar and wind-powered generators strategically placed atop various segments of the Wall. The majority of housing and single accommodation made available to residents, remained under the exclusive control of private landholders, though the poorer areas remained State-owned.

The advanced water collection technology, regularly refilled the immense underground reservoirs, dominating part of the tunnelled areas that were originally created for the long-abolished Metro system. The water purification and the sanitation of bio waste from the populace, were fully treated within this immense self-contained warren.

The Metro’s many stations originally had multiple tracks that passed underground at either side of the Wall’s perimeter, but each tunnel had been collapsed at those locations and was now completely inaccessible to the outside world. To ensure that these potential access points remained closed, they were further sealed by two-meter-thick blast doors on either end of the collapsed access points.

Recycling, composting, and funeral rites occurred within these sections, traversing the various internal district zones, but even these facilities were unable to exceed the Wall’s boundaries.

A significant number of vegetables and other crops were grown in hydroponic havens inside this concealed space, but many other grains and plants still occupied the mostly barren land above. Luxury meats, such as proteins from larger animals like lambs, cows and pigs, were typically imported from foreign countries, due to the lack of fertile grazing land within China’s vast borders.

These commodities were securely transported inside the Wall, exclusively by the State, and were stored in a heavily guarded, restricted area that spanned the entire length of the remaining blue line route of the old Metro’s tunnels. The secrecy surrounding this part of the Metro system had led to legends and rumours declaring that something significant was also kept there, but other than its wardens, no-one really knew for sure.

Citizens addressed each other with a formality beyond the norm of any other culture. They used the family names and forenames when talking to each other, unless a specific title or honorific held higher status. Only family or lovers used forenames alone, but even then, it was deemed to be a rarity.

To rise above the servile status of a normal citizen, potential scholars needed to possess exceptional academic abilities to pass the University’s entrance exams. Alternatively, they required a wealthy sponsor to ensure their scholastic journey would be approved by the State.

The halls and classrooms of the University, once jam-packed with eager pupils, were now almost empty and silent. Faculty staff still preserved some semblance of their academic mission by teaching the limited number of students who attended from the greater residential population and beyond. However, the total number of pupils now numbered in the hundreds, rather than the thousands they once had.

Educated citizens were considered to be a privileged class within Chinese culture, and even more so within the confines of the Wall. This esteemed section of the community had unrestricted access to any information, materials, or equipment they could salvage, benefiting from all the resources and assistance provided by the University.

Educators and mentors tirelessly endeavoured each day to impart their skills and knowledge to the newer members of this elite class. They sought to deliver any wisdom they possessed that might be deemed valuable or could help future generations endure the unforgiving world. This was an unappreciated mission, one that most of them realised was diminishing as the years went by, yet, they carried on regardless...