
by FreyaFinch
In 2042, we sold a fraction of the noonday sun. 180 years later, the Helios Corporation owns the sky. Earth lives under managed twilight, encased in a mesh of solar-harvesting satellites. In orbit, society thrives — researchers, strategists and artists bask in engineered abundance. Below, the Earthers labour in industries too dangerous, too dirty, or too heavy to lift into space, surviving inside powered enclaves bordered by frozen darkness. Miri curates perfection from the orbital colonies, selling a life of style and light. Kells keeps the ground systems running and knows better than to waste time on dreams. Then, Earther rebels find a way to turn the system against itself. A burst of reflected energy fractures the mesh, tearing a wound in the sky. Helios withdraws the light. Kells’ enclave goes dark. The grid falters. The ground freezes. Kells must cross the unlit wasteland to survive. In orbit, all non-essential power is redirected to secure the colony. Miri watches her crafted illusion unravel. When the sun becomes a product, access has a price.
| # | Title | Words |
|---|---|---|
| 0 | Extract from: “The Tithe: an unofficial history” | 0 |