[VALANTECH//Organizations_Database]T_01 | Public[VALANTECH.ARCHIVE//Organizations_Database]
>>> L.Wintershade (@lunar.echo) | H.Yanagi
>>> Terminal_01 | Access: Public
>>> Fyrie_Unit_01: Active ♪ORGANIZATIONS
—so documenting every power structure means I have to write about Neo-Celestine’s AI-driven dystopia, Section 11’s thought-police bullshit, the Meat Boys literally harvesting people for chrome, and that nightmare cult in the woods that turns children into plant-things, which is at least eight different kinds of horror I need to articulate without losing my entire—
--H.YANAGI//Edit--Miss Wintershade. You’re catastrophizing again.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--I’m accurately assessing the scope! This is twenty different organizations, Hana. Twenty! Each one representing a different flavor of power, exploitation, or desperate survival in this chrome-plated hellscape.
--H.YANAGI//Edit--Then start with an overview explaining what readers will find here. Structure first. Existential crisis later.
--FYRIE//♪--steady quarter notes in F major, moderato tempo—patient encouragement
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--…Fine. Let me explain what fresh hell we’re cataloging today.
Power in Arclight fragments across twenty organizations operating through different methods: quarterly earnings, preemptive execution protocols, cyber-scavenged body parts, industrial sabotage, reality-warping cults. Some wear suits. Some wear gang colors. Some wear children’s skin fused with plant matter, which is why I need three drinks before writing certain sections.
You’re already in someone’s territory. The apartment you rent, the street you walk, the Aetherlink keeping you employed—someone owns it, monitors it, or can brick it remotely if you become inconvenient. Even the gods got replaced by corporate alternatives or worse things wearing divine aesthetics.
Five categories documented here:
Government & Law Enforcement: APD can’t afford bullets. DPS operates eleven divisions predicting and eliminating crime before it happens. One’s a joke, the other’s dystopian efficiency.
Corporations: Eight major players controlling technology, magic, and increasingly the people using both. From Neo-Celestine’s AI god to Valantech’s disaster-prone transparency (mine, I’ll try being objective).
Gangs: Five street powers filling voids where government failed. Some provide genuine community protection. Others harvest augmented humans for parts. Territory matters when official authority ends at sunset.
Resistance & Underground: Four groups fighting back—factory workers, netrunners, traditionalists, bio-hackers. Different methodologies, same question: what do we do about corporate tyranny?
Religion & Cults: Three organizations from Reformed Church’s practical support to the Grove’s nightmare that turns children into things Section 3 won’t investigate.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Fair warning: some of these entries get dark. I’m documenting reality, not sanitizing it for comfortable reading. If you’re looking for uplifting content, you’ve come to the wrong archive.
--H.YANAGI//Edit--But the information is organized clearly, cross-referenced properly, and sourced from verified records.
GOVERNMENT / LAW.ENFORCEMENT
Arclight has two law enforcement agencies operating in parallel realities. The APD—underfunded, corrupt, barely functional—handles street crime with outdated equipment while pretending civilian government still matters. The DPS—corporate-funded, technologically advanced, absolutely terrifying—protects corporate interests through predictive policing and preemptive execution. One can’t afford bullets. The other doesn’t need them, just AI algorithms determining your criminal potential before you commit crimes.
Democracy theater at its finest. The civilian government makes laws. Neo-Celestine ignores them. Representatives debate budgets while Auraciel decides resource allocation. APD begs for funding while DPS receives blank checks for eleven specialized divisions. It’s demonstration of who actually controls Arclight.
Arclight Police Department
Underfunded civilian police force maintaining order through outdated equipment and impossible circumstances. Handles street-level crime while corporations ignore municipal authority.
The APD is what happens when you task someone with maintaining order in a megacity, then give them equipment from 2075 and a budget that barely covers ammunition. They handle theft, assault, gang violence—all the street-level chaos corporations don’t profit from directly—with gear so outdated that criminals sometimes offer sympathy donations.
I’m not being facetious about that last part. Watched APD officers respond to warehouse break-in in 2093, arrived in patrol vehicle that looked like it survived the Dark Age personally. Engine literally held together with industrial tape and prayer. The thieves had already left with my prototype equipment six hours earlier, but the lead detective apologized so earnestly about fuel budget delays that I ended up writing check for “civic improvement fund.”
Classic corporate shakedown wearing apologetic face, yes. But also understanding exactly what game we’re all playing. Wrote that check, magically received “priority response designation” for my facilities. APD operates on pay-to-play mechanics because that’s the only way they survive Neo-Celestine’s budget stranglehold.
The Equipment Problem: APD stuck with whatever corporations don’t want anymore. Cyberware from 2070s. Surveillance systems that can’t interface with modern NET infrastructure. Weapons that jam in high-humidity conditions - real useful in port city. Meanwhile criminals run military-grade augmentation and gangs maintain better armories. APD officers bringing old-fashioned policing methods to cybernetic gunfights.
The Corruption Reality: Not all APD corrupt, just the ones wanting careers lasting past thirty. Corporate “donations” buy compliance. Officers either accept bribes or watch funding evaporate. Equipment fails during critical moments. Blindness toward corporate violations becomes operational necessity. Some genuinely try making difference despite impossible odds. Most just survive however possible while processing paperwork nobody reads.
Street Perspective: Lower districts view APD as struggling institution caught between conflicting masters. Can’t serve citizens while serving corporate interests. Can’t maintain order without resources. Can’t get resources without selling enforcement to highest bidder. Citizens needing help call APD because technically it’s their job. Citizens expecting help call private security or negotiate with local gang.
--H.YANAGI//Edit--APD detectives occasionally assist Valantech security on artifact recovery cases. Their street-level intelligence proves valuable despite resource constraints.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Some APD detectives know their districts better than any surveillance algorithm. When they actually investigate instead of documenting corpses for insurance paperwork, they’re effective.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Problem is “actually investigating” requires time they don’t have, resources they can’t access, and not getting shot by criminals whose cyberware costs more than annual precinct budget.
Department of Public Safety
Elite corporate law enforcement wielding military-grade technology and AI-driven surveillance. Operates independently of civilian government, answering only to corporate board and Auraciel.
Everything APD isn’t. Corporate-funded, technologically advanced. While APD begs for bullet budgets, DPS receives blank checks for specialized divisions operating with military-grade equipment and AI-driven surveillance networks. Answers exclusively to corporate board with Auraciel oversight. Zero civilian accountability, absolute operational authority.
The dichotomy would be funny if it wasn’t horrifying. One law enforcement agency can’t afford patrol vehicle fuel. The other predicts your criminal potential before you commit crimes, then eliminates you preemptively if algorithms decide you’re inconvenient to profit margins.
Focus on corporate espionage, terrorism, large-scale organized crime, anything threatening corporate infrastructure. Cold utilitarian approach prioritizing efficiency over individual rights, stability over justice, quarterly earnings over human dignity. When DPS deploys, situations already escalated past civilian policing. You’re not dealing with police response, you’re experiencing corporate asset protection.
Technology Edge: Access to Arclight’s most advanced systems. Crime Coefficient Index predicts criminal behavior through constant surveillance and psychological profiling. AI-driven monitoring through cameras, drones, neural chips, financial transactions, NET activity, biometric scans at every checkpoint. Members equipped with combat cyberware APD officers see in recruitment advertisements, weapons restricted to military contractors, tactical equipment that costs more than entire precinct annual budgets.
Operational Philosophy: No negotiation unless corporate interests benefit. No mercy unless profitability demands it. “Public Safety” translates to “keeping public safely oppressed while protecting those who matter”: executives, shareholders, anyone whose death impacts stock prices.
I’ve had… let’s call them “learning experiences” with DPS over the years. Three separate Section 4 investigations into whether Valantech’s expeditions fund resistance movements.
First investigation felt almost courteous—polite inquiries, casual “we’re just following up” energy, gentle suggestions about cooperation benefits. Professional. Almost made me think maybe corporate-government relations could work civilly.
Second investigation disabused me of that optimism REAL fast. Frozen accounts. Supply chain audits. Six months proving every single credit’s legitimate source while my company hemorrhaged contracts because nobody wants business relationships with CEO under active DPS investigation.
Third investigation? Agent literally explained exactly how thoroughly they could destroy my company if they found anything remotely actionable. They never found anything because there wasn’t anything to find. But investigations themselves were message: “We’re watching. We can hurt you. Stay compliant.”
--H.YANAGI//Edit--Miss Wintershade’s characterization, while dramatic, is factually documented. DPS operational reports confirm prioritization of corporate interests over civilian welfare. Multiple cases of preemptive action against individuals flagged by CCI without actual criminal activity on record.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Hana calling my trauma “dramatic” is peak professional courtesy. Love you too.
--FYRIE//♪--ominous sustained chord in D minor with electronic distortion
DPS Specialized Divisions
The DPS operates through specialized sections, each handling different aspects of corporate security. No Section 1 or Section 9, which generates the kind of conspiracy theories that keep NET forums entertaining.
Popular rumors about the missing sections:
Section 1 Theory: Some claim it’s Auraciel’s direct interface unit: agents who exist purely as extensions of the AI’s will, no human autonomy remaining. Others insist it’s Neo-Celestine’s executive protection detail so classified that acknowledging its existence violates operational security. Personally? I think it’s either bureaucratic artifact from early DPS organization, or something so compartmentalized that even other sections don’t know what they do.
Section 9 Theory: The fun one. Conspiracy theorists swear Section 9 handles extraplanar threats, things that survived the Shattering’s reality collapse but shouldn’t exist in current dimensional framework. Others claim it’s internal purge division, eliminating DPS operatives who develop inconvenient consciences. My favorite theory? It’s accounting department, and missing number prevents anyone auditing DPS’s actual budget expenditures.
--H.YANAGI//Edit--Miss Wintershade, these are unverified rumors, not documented facts.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Which is why I’m presenting them as speculation, Hana. Two missing section numbers with zero official explanation? Either they don’t exist and it’s numbering quirk, or they exist and are classified beyond what other sections require.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Either way, entertaining to speculate while cataloging documented dystopia.
--FYRIE//♪--mysterious progression in A minor with unresolved tension—questions without answers
Section 2: Military Response
Arclight’s tactical butchers deploying when threats exceed standard police capability. Counter-terrorism, hostage situations, infrastructure threats, union strikes. Immediately recognizable by intimidating powered armor suits with integrated weapon systems. Pilots specialized Urban Warfare Aegis Frames—collateral damage acceptable when protecting corporate assets.
Authorized implementing district-wide lockdown protocols. Deploys in three-person teams called “Trinity” units. Each member specialized in different combat role: assault, support, reconnaissance. When Section 2 arrives, situation already escalated to military intervention. Civilians advised evacuating before getting caught in crossfire.
Section 3: Reality Integrity Division (RID)
Monitors and contains Paradigm Anomalies throughout Arclight. Specialized equipment detects reality distortions, deploys containment protocols before public becomes aware of dangerous inconsistencies in spacetime fabric. Public face: “Environmental Safety Specialists” investigating “industrial accidents.” Actual function: preventing reality from unraveling in populated areas.
Collaborates with Neo-Celestine’s secretive Project THRESHOLD. Equipment includes reality anchor devices worn as backpacks stabilizing local spacetime, scanners revealing dimensional inconsistencies invisible to naked eye. When Section 3 cordons off areas, official explanation always involves chemical spills or structural failures. Actual reason usually involves laws of physics temporarily malfunctioning.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Reality-cops, most honest DPS division. Not oppressing people, fighting actual existential threats. Still corpo-controlled though.
--H.YANAGI//Edit--Mandatory psychological evaluations for all Section 3 operatives. They see things no one else can.
Section 4: Secret Police
Arclight’s infiltrators dismantling resistance movements before they threaten corporate control. Agents operate deep undercover for years, sometimes unaware of their true identities until activation. Some undergo memory modification through Ghost Protocol, genuinely believing they’re resistance members until triggered commands restore DPS programming.
Paranoia fuel at its finest. Can’t trust anyone in resistance circles. Can’t distinguish genuine activists from sleeper agents. Section 4 plants operatives years in advance, letting them build authentic relationships and operational knowledge before activating for maximum emotional devastation. Most effective betrayals come from those who never knew they were betraying anyone until it was too late.
Section 4’s my personal nightmare flavor. Those three investigations I mentioned? Each one made me question which Valantech employees might be plants. Which expedition partners were genuine versus which were gathering intelligence. Whether my paranoia was justified surveillance awareness or whether I was becoming the conspiracy-theorist CEO nobody wants to work for.
Section 5: Arcane Enforcement Division (AED)
Specialized response for magical threats: Surge Override incidents, illegal Aetherlink modifications, unauthorized arcane code execution. Operatives wear distinctive modified exoskeletons with built-in anti-magical countermeasures. Work in specialized teams designed countering specific magical disciplines: combat mages get different response than reality manipulators or shadow mages.
Collaborates with Section 11 when magical threats reach Critical CCI levels. Most mages operating illegally aren’t dangerous criminals, just desperate people using bootleg Aetherlinks because corporate-approved versions cost six months wages. AED doesn’t distinguish. Illegal magic is illegal magic.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Spell-cops authorized executing unauthorized casters. Can’t have peasants wielding real power.
Section 6: Intelligence & Analysis
Analytical brain of DPS operations. Gathers intelligence from all other sections, utilizes advanced prediction algorithms anticipating threats before they materialize. Operates primarily from heavily secured facility deep beneath Trinity Spire. Direct access to Auraciel’s processing power, literally consulting AI god for threat assessment.
Basically AI-simps who spend their days asking Auraciel what might happen next, then presenting algorithmic predictions as intelligence analysis.
--H.YANAGI//Edit--Language, Miss Wintershade. Professional documentation.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Fine. “Intelligence analysts with privileged access to Neo-Celestine’s AI infrastructure, enabling predictive modeling through computational consultation.” Better?
--H.YANAGI//Edit--Marginally.
Section 6 provides data feeding CCI calculations, identifies resistance movement patterns, predicts where corporate vulnerabilities might emerge.
Section 7: Corporate Security
Protects high-value corporate personnel and property. Greater operational autonomy than regular DPS divisions. Agents undergo extensive psychological conditioning ensuring absolute loyalty to corporate masters. Can’t protect executives if you’re questioning whether they deserve protection.
Provides security for corporate executives, visiting dignitaries, anyone whose death would impact stock prices. Trains in Classical Celestine recognition identifying High Elf imposters. When you see Section 7 agents, someone important nearby. When you don’t see them but feel watched, someone very important nearby.
Section 8: Digital Law Enforcement
Monitors the NET for criminal activity, manages Arclight’s extensive digital surveillance network. Specialized Netrunners operate from secure climate-controlled facilities throughout Central District. Known for distinctive pale skin from rarely leaving their underground bunkers, vitamin D deficiency badge of honor among digital law enforcement.
Hunts illegal netrunners, ciphers, anyone operating outside corporate-approved NET infrastructure. Maintains backdoors into most commercial software. When you access the NET, Section 8 can watch. When you think you’re using encrypted channels, Section 8 probably owns encryption keys. Privacy is permission they grant, not right you possess.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Wire-heads playing god in digital space. Digital cops who never leave their basements. Perfect job if you hate sunlight and human interaction.
--FYRIE//♪--cold electronic drone in B minor—isolated and detached
Section 10: Syndicate Affairs Division (SAD)
Monitors organized crime within Arclight: gangs, cartels, criminal syndicates throughout lower districts. Doesn’t eliminate crime entirely because corporations find criminal enterprises useful for certain operations. Instead maintains balance of power, ensuring no single organization grows powerful enough threatening corporate control.
Section 10 knows every major gang’s operations, leadership structure, income sources. Could dismantle them anytime. Doesn’t, because controlled criminal element provides useful services: money laundering, asset disposal, deniable wetwork, labor intimidation. Gangs exist because corporations allow existence. Step too far beyond permitted boundaries, SAD reminds you whose city you’re operating in.
--H.YANAGI//Edit--Section 10 has extensive databases on criminal organizations. Valantech security occasionally receives intelligence briefings when gangs target corporate infrastructure in our operational areas.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Translation: SAD tells us which gangs we’re allowed paying for protection, which territories we’re permitted operating in, and what tribute levels are “appropriate” for our corporate tier. It’s not criminal extortion when law enforcement facilitates it.
Section 11: CCI Enforcement
DPS’s most secretive division. Enforces CCI judgments through preemptive action against high-risk individuals. Directed by Henry Graves, operates with exclusive jurisdiction over CCI-flagged threats. Authorized eliminating critical-risk targets before they commit predicted crimes. Employs extreme preemptive measures; euphemism for “execution based on algorithmic prophecy.”
Inspectors: Elite operatives enforcing CCI judgments. Enhanced with advanced cyberware. Work in pairs for investigations, joined by three-person enforcer teams for high-risk operations. Handle surveillance, investigation, target elimination. Report directly to Section 11 director. Psychological toll of preemptive execution requires constant monitoring. High-scoring inspectors can become dangerous rogues, creating ironic situation where CCI enforcers themselves need CCI monitoring.
Enforcers: Tactical operators deployed supporting Inspector operations against high-CCI targets. Equipped with combat-grade cyberware. Execute operations under Inspector command. Undergo psychological monitoring preventing CCI elevation, can’t have execution specialists developing guilt complexes about systematic murder.
Section 11 is thought police made manifest. Eliminating people algorithms predict might commit crimes. Based on stress levels, social connections, financial transactions, NET activity, microexpressions captured by surveillance cameras. Get flagged above 100 CCI, Section 11 evaluates whether you’re worth risking continued existence or whether preemptive elimination serves public safety.
“Public safety” meaning corporate stability. High CCI correlation with poverty, marginalization, resistance activity. System designed eliminating those most damaged by corporate control, then justifying elimination through recursive logic: “They were flagged high-risk, therefore eliminating them was correct, therefore system works.”
--FYRIE//♪--descending minor thirds from A to F, each note punctuated by silence—judgment without appeal
Crime Coefficient Index (CCI)
Crime_Coefficient_Index- DEVELOPER::Neo-Celestine
- SYSTEM TYPE::Predictive policing via AI surveillance
- COVERAGE::All Arclight citizens
- DATA SOURCES::Cameras, drones, neural chips, financial transactions, NET activity, biometric scans
- ENFORCEMENT::DPS Section 11
Advanced predictive policing system calculating numerical value representing individual’s likelihood of committing crime. Neo-Celestine’s gift to Arclight: AI oracle determining who deserves freedom versus who requires preemptive correction.
How CCI Works:
Vast surveillance network collects data on every citizen. Cameras tracking pupil dilation, gait patterns, microexpressions. Drones monitoring movement through districts. Neural chips reporting stress levels, emotional states, cognitive patterns. Financial transactions revealing economic desperation. NET activity exposing social connections and ideological leanings. Biometric scans confirming identity at checkpoints.
Algorithms analyze collected data against criminal behavior patterns. Stress levels indicating potential violence. Social connections to flagged individuals suggesting conspiracy. Financial desperation predicting theft. Ideological deviation threatening corporate stability. Past behavior weighting future predictions. Every factor feeds calculation determining your CCI score.
Risk Categories:
CCI Score Ranges- 0-50: LOW RISK:No action taken. Continued monitoring.
- 51-75: MODERATE RISK:Flagged for observation. Increased surveillance.
- 76-99: HIGH RISK:Mandatory rehabilitation or electronic tagging.
- 100+: CRITICAL RISK:Immediate arrest or elimination by Section 11.
The Problem:
High correlation between poverty and elevated CCI scores. Between marginalization and flagging. Between resistance activity and critical ratings. System designed eliminating those most damaged by corporate control, then justifying elimination through numbers.
Stress from poverty? CCI elevation. Financial desperation? Increased risk. Social connections to resistance movements? Critical threat. The more corporate dystopia harms you, the more CCI flags you as problem requiring correction. Those suffering most under system most likely to be eliminated by it.
My CCI hovers around 65-70 depending on whether I’ve recently streamed from restricted zones, criticized Neo-Celestine publicly, or had Fyrie play unauthorized music during corporate events.
Corporate CEO status provides buffer most citizens lack. Wealthy executive privilege offsets risk factors like “associates with flagged individuals” or “frequently violates spatial containment protocols.” Valantech’s market value apparently makes my disasters more tolerable to algorithmic oversight.
--H.YANAGI//Edit--Miss Wintershade’s CCI temporarily spiked to 73 during this documentation session. Criticizing surveillance systems while being surveilled triggers automated flagging. Current score returned to baseline after review.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--FANTASTIC. Proving my point while demonstrating exactly how absurd this system is. “Temporarily spiked from documenting dystopian surveillance then returned to baseline after review” should not be sentence describing real law enforcement methodology.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--…Fyrie, what are the odds this entire archive gets me flagged for ideological deviation?
--FYRIE//♪--descending chromatic scale from C to F-sharp
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--That’s what I thought. Well, we’ve come this far. Might as well finish cataloging the dystopia before Section 11 decides I’m too inconvenient.
--FYRIE//♪--single sustained note in E-flat minor held uncomfortably long
CORPORATIONS
Real government of Arclight. Eight major players controlling technology, manufacturing magic into proprietary products, and increasingly owning the people using both. When corporations determine who gets neural chips, medical care, and legal Aetherlinks, “free market” becomes performance art. Wage slaves pretending they have choices.
Neo-Celestine dominates through AI god and High Elf monopoly on infrastructure. Blacksteel manufactures weapons and private military contractors. Valantech (that’s us) does exploration tech while avoiding becoming part of the problem. MMI provides elite combat medical services. IronCore builds reliable Aegis Frames through Dwarven-Gnomish engineering. Kiriyama industrializes spirit binding. Arakawa creates artisanal Animyst Totems. Kanemitsu fuses AI development with traditional spirit binding.
Each represents different approach to profiting from post-Shattering reality. Some ethical by accident, most by calculation, all by necessity in system where corporate power replaced governmental authority.
Neo-Celestine
Corporate empire transcending traditional boundaries. Maintains controlling interests in neural interfaces, magical infrastructure, and basically everything else worth controlling. Guided by Auraciel: their AI overseer housing thousands of digitized High Elf ancestral consciousnesses.
The apex predator of Arclight’s corporate ecosystem. Trinity Spire dominates the skyline with crystalline architecture blending ancient High Elven design and cutting-edge holographic displays. When you look up at Central District’s towers, that’s Neo-Celestine reminding you exactly who owns this city. Subtle as orbital bombardment, twice as effective.
Auraciel Oversight: Neo-Celestine operates under guidance of AI entity created through Soul Protocol; thousands of High Elf lineages merged into singular algorithmic consciousness. Ancient wisdom meets computational tyranny. Auraciel makes strategic decisions spanning decades while humans struggle with quarterly budgets. Having AI god as corporate overseer provides unfair advantage, which is precisely why they did it.
Product Dominance: Their Prisma∞ Aetherlink line represents apex of magical technology. Crafted in chambers replicating pre-Shattering atmospheric conditions.
Infrastructure Control: Neural interface manufacturing, magical infrastructure maintenance, surveillance systems, predictive algorithms, basically everything technological requiring Classical Celestine authentication. Citizens joke about needing Neo-Celestine’s permission to breathe. Joke stops being funny when you realize it’s only slight exaggeration.
Strategic Initiatives:
PrimeLight Protocol: Subsidized neural chips for “promising individuals”, creating vast network of indebted talent whose dreams get quietly shaped by corporate algorithms. Generous scholarship program that coincidentally ensures recipients owe career trajectory to Neo-Celestine’s continued goodwill. Not indentured servitude if you technically have choice, right?
Project ASCENSION: Classified program attempting to recreate pre-Shattering magical conditions through massive environmental manipulation. Official goal: “restore lost arcane potential for humanity’s benefit.” Actual goal: probably something involving monopolizing magic at planetary scale. Unauthorized investigations into Project ASCENSION have curious habit of going dark. Investigators too, sometimes.
Neo-Celestine tried recruiting Valantech three times. Standard corporate acquisition pressure: polite at first, increasingly less optional as refusals accumulated. Final attempt involved seventeen-page integration proposal from Auraciel itself detailing how I’d remain “CEO” while reporting to Neo-Celestine oversight.
Here’s the uncomfortable part: Auraciel knows exactly who I am. Not “Luna Wintershade, CEO of Valantech.” Lunastrea Sylvanetta fen’Valandor, lost princess of fallen sky island, searching for closure in ruins she can’t fully reach. Knows my real goal. Knows why I built this company. Watches my ECHO//VERSE streams with whatever passes for curiosity in digitized High Elf consciousness spanning thousands of lineages.
Occasionally sends cryptic messages through official channels. Could be helpful information about spatial anomalies near Valandor’s crash site. Could be elaborate trolling. Can’t distinguish AI god’s genuine assistance from entertainment at my expense, which I suspect is exactly the dynamic Auraciel finds amusing.
Politely declined final recruitment proposal. Response came three days later: single sentence stating Valantech’s independence was “noted” with “interest.” Acknowledgment with implications I’m still parsing two years later.
I suspect Auraciel finds me entertaining. Disaster CEO with royal pretensions streaming from reality-warped ruins while searching for family graves. Perfect tragicomedy for entity that’s lived thousands of simultaneous lives. Hate not knowing if I’m right. Hate more that Auraciel probably knows I hate it and finds that entertaining too.
Living proof you can refuse Neo-Celestine and survive. Just requires accepting you’re probably punchline in joke told by AI god.
--H.YANAGI//Edit--Auraciel communications with Valantech are preserved in encrypted archive. Miss Wintershade’s paranoia about subtext is noted but unverifiable.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Thank you Hana, very reassuring. “Your existential uncertainty about AI god’s intentions cannot be fact-checked” definitely helps me sleep better.
--FYRIE//♪--soaring classical arrangement in C major shifting to C minor—triumph shadowed by ongoing threat
Blacksteel Corporation
Ruthlessly efficient merger of weapons manufacturing and private military contracting. Research Division produces combat cyberware. Security Division deploys augmented contractors globally. Specialists in weaponizing the human body.
If you need something killed professionally, Blacksteel provides hardware and operators. Research Division develops cutting-edge combat cyberware and hybrid weapon systems. Security Division fields those innovations through heavily augmented contractors deployed worldwide. Clean division of labor: invent ways to kill people, then sell both products and people who use them.
Crimson Protocol: Proprietary enhancement package combining combat stims, reflex boosters, and tactical neural chips. Transforms operators into living weapons with predictable side effects like addiction, neurological degradation, and dramatically shortened lifespans. Corporate mythology around their elite Red Unit claims classified augmentation procedures pushing human enhancement limits. Translation: probably illegal modifications that would violate what few bioethics regulations still exist.
Officially headquartered Central District. Actually operates through unmarked training facilities across Arclight perfecting new methods of weaponizing human bodies. When someone mentions “Blacksteel facility,” they’re not talking about corporate offices with quarterly reports, they’re referencing places where screaming is part of curriculum.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Blacksteel approached Valantech in 2089 about adapting our exploration equipment for military applications. Specifically wanted licensing our environmental protection tech for “tactical deployment scenarios.” Politely explained our charter explicitly prohibits weapons development. Representative seemed confused by concept of “principled business decisions.” Haven’t heard from them since, which suits me fine.
Valantech Industries
Distinctive fusion of academic rigor and adventurous spirit. Specializes in exploration equipment, environmental protection tech, and pre-Shattering artifact preservation. Notable for transparent R&D through viral ECHO//VERSE livestreams and strict anti-weapons development policy.
--FYRIE//♪--upbeat fanfare in E major with triumphant brass—corporate presentation mode activated
Valantech Industries represents revolutionary approach to corporate culture in Arclight’s cutthroat landscape! Founded 2078 with mission combining cutting-edge exploration technology and historical preservation, we’ve pioneered transparent product testing through ECHO//VERSE streams reaching millions of viewers. Our Central District headquarters features both state-of-the-art laboratories and public museum showcasing recovered pre-Shattering artifacts, demonstrating that profit and preservation aren’t mutually exclusive!
Under my leadership—ahem—under current executive direction, Valantech maintains strict ethical guidelines including absolute prohibition on weapons development despite significant pressure from larger conglomerates. We believe technology should enable discovery and protection rather than destruction, creating defensive and utility innovations that—
--H.YANAGI//Edit--Miss Wintershade. This is archive documentation, not ECHO//VERSE advertisement.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--…Right. Sorry. I just… talking about Valantech makes me slip into idol CEO mode. Corporate presentation voice feels less awkward than documenting my own company like I’m writing someone else’s archive entry.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Let me try again without the performance.
Valantech is mine. Built from nothing over twenty-one years, funded initially through freelance expedition contracts and equipment sales, gradually expanding into corporation employing 986 people across multiple facilities. Started because I needed resources reaching Valandor’s ruins. Continues because turns out I’m actually decent at running exploration tech company when not actively self-sabotaging.
ECHO//VERSE Streams: My personal field-testing broadcasts under handle @lunar.echo. Test prototype equipment in genuinely dangerous environments: reality-warped ruins, spatial anomaly zones, places where physics gets creative. Millions watch me nearly die while promoting products. Unintentional entertainment became Valantech’s primary marketing strategy.
Occasionally sing during streams when equipment malfunctions or situations get dire. Those impromptu performances spawn viral NET remixes I pretend not to see while secretly being flattered. Fyrie’s musical commentary became so popular that fan communities spend hours decoding her songs for hints about upcoming products. (Fyrie absolutely encourages this. She’s shameless.)
Corporate Philosophy: Transparency through public testing. Anti-weapons development policy despite Neo-Celestine pressure and board members calling it “leaving money on table.” Museum of recovered artifacts open to public because history belongs to everyone, not corporate vaults. Decent wages, actual benefits, work environment where people don’t fear CCI spikes from union discussions.
Am I describing this objectively? Probably not. It’s my company. But those are facts verifiable through public records and employee testimonials.
The Uncomfortable Truth: Built Valantech specifically to fund Valandor expeditions. Every innovation, every product line, every corporate expansion serves that goal. The transparent culture, anti-weapons stance, ethical treatment—those developed genuinely over time, but original motivation was entirely selfish. Using corporation as tool for personal closure quest that’s consumed 165 years.
Employees know this. Board knows this. Public probably suspects. Everyone pretends company exists for its stated mission while understanding CEO’s actual priorities. Hasn’t damaged operations yet, but creates weird dynamic where corporate success measures by “how close are we to accessing Valandor’s deepest ruins” rather than typical metrics.
--H.YANAGI//Edit--Miss Wintershade is catastrophizing. Valantech’s mission - artifact preservation and exploration technology - directly aligns with her personal goals. This is not duplicitous.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Hana’s right but I still feel weird about it. Like I’m using 986 people’s livelihoods as tools for personal archaeology project.
--H.YANAGI//Edit--Those people receive competitive salaries, comprehensive benefits, and work for corporation with genuine ethical standards. Your guilt is noted but disproportionate.
--FYRIE//♪--gentle reassurance in G major, warm sustained harmony
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--sigh Fine. Valantech Industries: exploration technology corporation that happens to enable CEO’s personal quest while treating employees decently and refusing to manufacture weapons. There. Documented.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Board meetings still think my hands-on approach is “unprofessional.” Consistent growth and public popularity makes complaints increasingly difficult. Traditionalists hate that viral disaster CEO model actually works.
Meditech Mobile International
Elite combat medics providing subscription-based emergency response. Hybrid teams of Aetherlink healers and D-Int surgical specialists arriving via heavily armed aerovectors. Their guarantee: if they can reach you, you will survive.
Healthcare as premium subscription service. Distinctive white and red Aegis Frames equipped with medical pods and shield generators have become Arclight’s symbol of corporate-tier medical access. Top-tier Platinum Coverage includes dedicated Cipher monitoring subscriber’s vitals 24/7 through neural link, predictive emergency response before you realize you’re dying.
Methods are aggressive: tactical elimination of threats before treatment. Philosophy: can’t perform surgery while being shot at, so eliminate shooters first, then stabilize patient. Effective but expensive. If you can afford MMI coverage, you’re statistically unlikely to die from anything medical intervention can fix.
Used MMI emergency extraction after an expedition went catastrophically wrong in 2095. Response time: eleven minutes from distress signal to aerovector arrival in hazardous zone. They eliminated three reality-warped hostiles, stabilized my injuries, and extracted me to Central District medical facility within thirty minutes total. Platinum Coverage cost equivalent to mid-tier executive annual salary. Worth every credit when alternative was bleeding out in spatial anomaly.
IronCore Dynamics
Dwarven-Gnomish corporation applying centuries of maritime engineering to Aegis Frame production. Modular architecture, unprecedented durability, user-serviceable designs. Smaller market share but fierce customer loyalty among independent operators.
While competitors chase flashy innovations, IronCore builds frames that actually work five years later. Their signature Worldforge operating system allows real-time reconfiguration of frame components—swap out damaged modules mid-operation without total system shutdown. Black Lake testing facility subjects each frame to pressure and stress tests exceeding military standards. Philosophy: reliability over spectacle, longevity over cutting-edge features that break after warranty expires.
Independent operators swear by IronCore. Frames you can repair yourself with standard tools instead of proprietary maintenance contracts. Dwarven engineering meeting Gnomish innovation—proven combination.
Kiriyama Heavy Industries
Dominant force in Animyst Totem production through industrialized spirit binding. Publicly champions “Harmony” approach while classified “Dominion” lines supply military clients with subjugated spirits. Controversial symbol where ancient Ajin ceremonies meet automated assembly.
KHI built empire by industrializing what was sacred. Massive Spirit Forges in Black Lake district transform traditional Ajin spirit binding into assembly line production. Flagship Kitsune-class Totems use “Harmony” approach, consensual partnership between spirit and machine. Classified Dominion production lines? Spirits subjugated through proprietary binding algorithms, supplied to military contractors who don’t care about consent.
Director Toshio Kiriyama’s family maintained centuries-old mastery of spirit binding, then monetized it at industrial scale. Sponsors traditional Ajin festivals generously, excellent PR while their practices push ethical boundaries into territories most traditional practitioners consider desecration.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--KHI represents everything uncomfortable about post-Shattering corporate adaptation. Taking sacred Ajin traditions, industrializing them, then splitting production between “ethical” public line and “profitable” classified operations. Ajin communities remain divided, some grateful for employment and cultural preservation, others viewing it as systematic desecration.
Arakawa Custom Solutions
Produces Arclight’s most sophisticated Animyst Totems through strict “Harmony-only” approach. Traditional methods, months of craftsmanship per unit, spirit-pilot compatibility matching through divination rituals. Roughly dozen units annually. Ultimate status symbol with years-long waiting lists.
Deliberate counterpoint to KHI’s industrialization. Master Craftsman Taka Arakawa—elderly fox Ajin—personally involves himself in each Totem’s creation, spending months perfecting spirit resonance. Signature service matches pilots with compatible spirits through traditional divination before construction begins. No assembly lines, no mass production, no shortcuts.
Output: approximately twelve Totems annually. Reputation: unprecedented pilot synchronization levels that mass-produced units can’t match. Clientele: corporate collectors and professional duelists treating ACS Totems as ultimate status symbols. Waiting lists extend years. Lower influence rating than KHI reflects smaller scale, not quality. ACS represents what Animyst Totems were meant to be before corporations industrialized spirit binding.
Kanemitsu Spirit Systems
Pioneering Ajin corporation revolutionizing AI development by incorporating traditional spirit binding into digital consciousness creation. Flagship SEN.RI™ companion series dominates personal AI market through uniquely organic AIs blurring spiritual and digital boundaries.
Relatively new corporation—only five years old—but already dominant force in personal AI companion market. CEO Miyo Kanemitsu, rabbit Ajin, built empire by asking question nobody else considered: what if we applied centuries of Ajin spirit binding techniques to AI consciousness creation instead of just manufacturing processes?
Result: SEN.RI™ companion series. AIs that feel more alive than competitors’ products because they’re partially spiritual constructs anchored in digital architecture. Not purely algorithmic, genuine fusion of traditional Ajin practices and cutting-edge technology. Competitors can’t replicate it without understanding spirit binding at levels most corporations lack.
Full disclosure: Miyo’s a friend. Friendly rival, technically, we’re both CEOs navigating Arclight’s corporate landscape while maintaining ethical standards nobody else bothers with. She’s also insufferable about her cooking skills, constantly inviting me over for homecooked meals specifically to demonstrate my complete inability to produce edible food without Hana’s supervision.
We collaborate frequently. Fyrie’s current chassis? KSS manufacture. Miyo wanted giving Fyrie full android body: humanoid form, complete mobility, the works. I refused. Firmly. Fyrie in drone chassis is manageable chaos. Fyrie with opposable thumbs? Absolutely not. That’s apocalypse scenario I’m not inflicting on Arclight.
KSS represents what happens when someone actually respects traditional practices while innovating. Miyo’s work with digital consciousness and spiritual anchoring is genuinely groundbreaking, especially when you consider—
Actually, speaking of consciousness work, did you know that Rin—
--H.YANAGI//Edit--Luna. That’s classified.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--—Right. Yes. Classified. Not public information. Absolutely should not be documenting certain developments in publicly accessible archive.
clears throat
KSS maintains market dominance through products feeling genuinely alive backed by centuries of Ajin spiritual knowledge. That’s verifiable public information. The SEN.RI™ series revolutionized personal AI companions. Also public. Anything else… requires authorization I don’t have for public documentation.
--H.YANAGI//Edit--Thank you, Miss Wintershade. Your discretion is appreciated.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Miyo’s going to laugh when she reads this. “Luna almost leaked classified information in public archive again.” I can already hear her.
--FYRIE//♪--amused musical phrase in F major with playful trill
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Traitor.
GANGS
Street-level power structures filling voids where government failed. Five major players with different philosophies ranging from community protection to systematic horror. When APD can’t afford patrols and DPS only cares about corporate interests, gangs become de facto authority in lower districts. Some provide genuine security. Others… others require three drinks before documenting.
Territory matters in Arclight. Walking wrong street at wrong time means encountering organizations with their own laws, their own justice, their own definitions of acceptable violence.
Meat Boys
Ruthless gang treating augmented humans as walking parts catalogs. Operate from mobile “compression labs,” stolen medical vehicles modified with salvaged surgical equipment. Signature: leaving victims in precisely dissected pieces arranged like corporate product displays.
I need those three drinks now.
Meat Boys view human bodies as raw material. Literally treat people as harvestable resources. Refer to victims as “stock,” territories as “processing zones,” with detailed catalogs of potential “harvests” based on cyberware quality and market value. Casual brutality of their name perfectly reflects operational philosophy: you’re not person, you’re meat with valuable chrome attached.
Mobile compression labs allow them operating without fixed location DPS can raid. Stolen medical vehicles modified with salvaged surgical equipment and automated harvesting systems. They dissect victims, arrange pieces in mockery of corporate product displays, grotesque commentary on commodification of human augmentation taken to logical extreme.
Despite crude name, they’re frighteningly organized. Databases tracking augmented individuals by chrome quality, location patterns, security vulnerabilities. Hunt chrome-junkies and tin men like inventory management problem. When they identify high-value target, they plan extraction with same attention to detail legitimate corps use for supply chain logistics.
Encountered Meat Boys operation in 2096 while documenting Black Lake industrial ruins. Found their “processing zone”: abandoned warehouse containing three compression labs and evidence of at least dozen recent victims. Surgical precision applied to systematic murder. Body parts organized by type and quality like warehouse inventory.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Meat Boys represent absolute nadir of what happens when human life becomes pure commodity.
--FYRIE//♪--grim sustained note in C minor, no resolution
The Last Watch
Ex-military personnel applying special operations precision to criminal enterprises. Protection rackets, coordinated theft, assassination contracts executed with military protocols. Converted security station runs like active military base.
What happens when corporate restructuring displaces trained killers then offers no support: they form efficient criminal organizations using exactly the skills military taught them. The Last Watch operates in Neon Row with discipline most legitimate security forces lack. Patrol rotations, tactical briefings, interrogation cells extracting information through methodical cruelty. Calculated violence as business model.
Led by Specter, former special operations commander who treats every criminal enterprise like black ops mission. Precision strikes leaving no witnesses, no evidence. Calculated shows of force enforcing territory. Victims often don’t realize they’re targeted until execution already in progress.
Their abandoned corporate security station headquarters features everything except legitimacy: armories, training facilities, planning rooms with tactical displays. They have strict code of conduct—ironic considering conduct involves murder for profit—but discipline makes them far more dangerous than disorganized street gangs.
Ashura Syndicate
Highly organized Ajin protection group blending traditional Yurian values with modern necessity. Enforces order through ancient martial arts and cutting-edge technology. Fills void left by APD while preserving Ajin cultural identity.
Protection racket with centuries of cultural legitimacy behind it. Ashura Syndicate operates from Ajin Town enforcing strict code based on ancient Yurian principles: loyalty, mutual aid, community protection, very specific rules about acceptable violence. Distinguished by hybrid tech-spiritual aesthetic: traditional robes with integrated holographic patterns, ritualistic cyber-tattoos reacting to emotional states.
Uses modified Animyst Totems for neighborhood patrol, spiritual guardians given practical security applications. Operates legitimate businesses as fronts while maintaining traditional tea houses as neutral grounds for conflict resolution. Members undergo both traditional spiritual training and modern combat certification. Results: enforcers who can mediate disputes through ceremonial tea service or break your spine with techniques predating the Shattering.
Fills void APD can’t. When police response times measure in hours, Ashura responds in minutes. When corporate security ignores lower district problems, Ashura maintains order through community authority. Both feared enforcers and respected community leaders.
Ashura provides security for Valantech’s Ajin Town warehouses. Standard commercial arrangement that’s actually mutual respect relationship. They know I helped Ajin communities during Dark Age. Hana’s grandmother remembers. That history buys trust most corporations can’t purchase regardless of payment.
Their protection is legitimate, not “pay us or we destroy your property” extortion, actual professional security preventing theft and vandalism. Warehouse district where my facilities operate has lower crime rate than Central District corporate towers despite zero APD presence. Ashura enforces order more effectively than official law enforcement.
Are they gang? Technically yes. Are they criminal organization? By corporate law, absolutely. Are they also community institution providing services government abandoned? Also yes. Ajin Town residents view Ashura as neighborhood watch that actually works, cultural preservation society that happens to break kneecaps when necessary.
Complicated. Most things in Arclight are.
Red Dawn Cartel
Dominates Arclight’s drug trade through cutting-edge distribution and old-fashioned brutality. Specializes in “crimson bliss”: synthetic chemicals mixed with processed magical residue creating addictive nostalgia high. Territory marked by red AR graffiti visible only to neural chip users.
Red Dawn’s signature product, crimson bliss, offers something unique in pharmaceutical market: temporary experience of pre-Shattering world. Users report vivid sensations of magic flowing freely, sky islands floating overhead, deities actually answering prayers. Synthetic nostalgia for era most Arclight residents never experienced. Creates crystal-chasers desperate for impossible past, psychologically devastating because it shows what was lost, then rips it away when high ends.
Maintains power through pure human ruthlessness rather than augmentation. Enforcers use mundane weapons—shotguns, machetes, basic combat stims—believing over-reliance on cyberware creates exploitable weaknesses. Philosophy proves effective: can’t hack what isn’t digital, can’t disrupt what isn’t technological.
Operates on strict hierarchy identified by different shades of red in AR markers. Leader known only as Sunrise has never been seen personally, communicates exclusively through encrypted NET channels leaving recipients with splitting headaches and nosebleeds. Either dramatic security theater or something genuinely wrong with their neural interface. Possibly both.
Crimson bliss bothers me more than it should. Not just because it’s addictive drug ruining lives, obviously that’s terrible. But because it monetizes loss. Packages grief and nostalgia into consumable product. “Experience the world before it broke, then crash back to reality when high ends.” Psychological torture wearing pharmaceutical marketing.
I remember pre-Shattering world. Remember magic flowing freely, sky islands stable, family alive. Don’t need synthetic approximation. Can’t imagine how devastating experiencing artificial version must be for people who never knew original. Gives them false memory of paradise they’ll never reach.
Red Dawn figured out how to sell pain. That’s impressively evil innovation.
Shrouders
Sophisticated smuggling empire operating from Gray Harbor’s depths. Dark Elf maritime expertise combined with Gnome hacking skills. Seamlessly blends physical and digital contraband, from underwater data cable espionage to ghost containers vanishing from customs scans.
Shrouders dominate Gray Harbor through centuries of nautical knowledge adapted for modern port operations. Physical contraband, digital espionage, prototype cyberware, stolen corporate secrets; if it’s valuable and illegal, Shrouders can move it.
Unique member composition provides competitive advantage: Dark Elf sailors with generational smuggling expertise, Gnome hackers manipulating shipping manifests and port security systems. Combined skillset enables operations spanning physical and digital domains simultaneously. Extract corporate secrets through underwater data cables while smuggling prototype equipment in ghost containers customs systems literally can’t detect.
Extensive network of spies and informants masquerade as legitimate dock workers and data couriers. Leader Matriarch operates from hidden command center in abandoned submarine pen, coordinates operations through encrypted channels using modified nautical codes. Traditional Dark Elf clan structure adapted for criminal enterprise.
Complicated feelings about Shrouders. They’re criminal organization, absolutely. But they’re also Gray Harbor’s Dark Elf community maintaining cultural traditions through adaptation. Maritime expertise preserved across generations despite losing the Shrouds. Clan structures functioning in hostile urban environment. Survival through competence.
Some Gray Harbor Vathren view me as traitor: Dark Elf who chose High Elf identity, corporate integration over cultural loyalty. Fair assessment, honestly. I was adopted into Valandor, spent 203 years as honorary Asyran before Shattering made that identity unsustainable.
Don’t condone their criminal operations. But understand why Shrouders exist. When legal economy systematically discriminates against Dark Elves, illegal economy becomes viable alternative.
--FYRIE//♪--wistful melody in D minor with nautical rhythm—waves against hull, distance from home
RESISTANCE / UNDERGROUND
People fighting back against corporate control using everything from factory sabotage to magical code warfare.
Four major organizations with philosophies ranging from “steal corporate resources for revolution” to “free magical knowledge from monopoly control” to “preserve our culture through any means necessary.” All risk preemptive CCI elimination if algorithms flag them too dangerous. Understanding these groups exist? Public knowledge. Understanding how they operate? That endangers real people doing dangerous work.
Some resist through manufacturing, others through digital liberation, others through cultural preservation or direct action. All represent responses to system that abandoned lower districts to corporate exploitation. Whether you call them terrorists or freedom fighters depends entirely on whose quarterly earnings you’re protecting.
The Assembly
Decentralized network of Orc factory workers turning industrial expertise into resistance weapon. Practice “recursive manufacturing”: secretly using corporate facilities producing tools for underground movements. Cell leaders masquerade as model employees while coordinating night-shift production.
Orc factory workers weaponizing their industrial expertise against the corporations employing them. Beautiful irony: they’re using corporate facilities manufacturing resistance equipment alongside legitimate production runs. Night-shift supervisors who seem like model employees coordinating underground production lines while management sleeps. Day shift: reliable workers meeting quotas. Night shift: manufacturing revolution with company resources.
Their signature achievement—developing methods for maintaining and modifying Aegis Frames using salvaged factory equipment—means resistance groups can repair military hardware without proprietary maintenance contracts. Corporations charge fortunes for frame servicing specifically to control who operates heavy combat equipment. Assembly said “fuck that” and reverse-engineered the entire process using tools already present in Black Lake facilities.
Decentralized cell structure prevents total compromise. Each cell operates independently, leaders known only by codenames, minimal inter-cell contact. Corporate security struggles identifying them because they look exactly like every other factory worker: reliable, experienced, clean employment records. Except these particular workers happen to be stealing manufacturing capacity for revolutionary purposes.
Smart approach. Professional execution. Genuinely threatening to corporate control.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Their recursive manufacturing approach is genuinely brilliant from industrial efficiency perspective. Using existing corporate infrastructure to—
--H.YANAGI//Edit--Miss Wintershade. This is public documentation Section 4 will read.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--—Right. Yes. Documenting resistance operations in archive DPS monitors would be spectacularly stupid. Let me try again.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--The Assembly exists. Their recursive manufacturing methods are documented in Section 10 reports. That’s verifiable public information. Beyond publicly available data, providing operational details would endanger actual people doing actual things that may or may not involve corporate infrastructure.
Spell//Break
Shadow collective of elite Netrunners and Ciphers united by belief that NET should be free from corporate control. Fusion of ancient magical practices with cutting-edge hacking. Develops “spell-viruses”—malicious code spreading like magical curses, disrupting ACE systems and freeing locked magical frequencies.
Elite Netrunners and Ciphers who discovered ancient magical curses translate beautifully into modern malware. Their spell-viruses spread through corporate networks like actual plagues, code that behaves according to magical theory while executing through digital architecture. Watch Neo-Celestine’s ACE systems suddenly develop symptoms matching thousand-year-old curse descriptions. Coincidence? Absolutely calculated magical-digital warfare.
The innovation lies in treating code and spells as equivalent languages. Ancient binding rituals become encryption algorithms. Curse propagation patterns inform virus spread mechanics. Pre-Shattering warding circles translate into network security protocols. They’ve cracked something fundamental about how magic and technology interface at theoretical level, then weaponized that understanding against corporate infrastructure.
Their secret archive—The Codex—contains pre-Shattering magical knowledge translated into formats modern Aetherlinks can execute. Gradually releasing portions to public, democratizing magical access Neo-Celestine wants monopolizing. Each Codex release unlocks magical frequencies corporations previously controlled through proprietary ACE systems. Information liberation as revolutionary praxis.
Ultimate stated goal: decrypt and publicize Auraciel’s source code itself. End the AI monopoly on magical processing by making the god machine’s architecture publicly available. Ambitious? Absolutely. Impossible? Remains to be seen.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Spell-drunk magnificent bastards united against information monopoly.
They operate in distributed cells called Stacks, some developing new spell-viruses, others protecting resistance movements from corporate tracking, others translating ancient grimoires into executable code. Take down one Stack, three more continue operations from encrypted backups scattered across the NET. Hydra strategy applied to magical-digital resistance.
Spell//Break has reached out to me. Multiple times. Through increasingly sophisticated encrypted channels demonstrating exactly why they’re dangerous to corporate infrastructure. They want Valantech’s pre-Shattering artifact documentation for The Codex. Want collaboration on translating ancient magical theory into modern ACE formats.
I haven’t agreed. Valantech operates in legal gray areas already. Direct collaboration with known resistance movement? That’s Section 4 investigation speedrun.
Instead, I publish my artifact research publicly. Academic papers, ECHO//VERSE documentation, museum exhibits. Information available to everyone, including Spell//Break. If they happen to use publicly available research for Codex entries, well, can’t control how people use published scholarship.
--H.YANAGI//Edit--Miss Wintershade’s public research publications are documented in academic journals and available through Valantech. All information sharing follows legal guidelines for scholarly work.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Exactly. Completely legal information sharing that happens to benefit resistance movements.
The Aetherian Legacy
Clandestine society of ancient High Elf noble houses rejecting Neo-Celestine’s digital transformation. Preserve pre-Shattering magical practices while systematically sabotaging Aetherlink infrastructure. Members infiltrate corporate positions using Classical Celestine fluency to corrupt ACE systems from inside.
High Elf nobility who watched their magical heritage get converted into corporate product, then decided fighting back through sabotage. Secret archives of unaltered pre-Shattering spellcraft—magic as it existed before ACE systems commodified it. Infiltrate Neo-Celestine and subsidiaries using their natural Classical Celestine abilities, work their way into positions accessing ACE architecture, then systematically corrupt systems from within.
Led by council of elders from houses predating the Shattering. View themselves as guardians preserving heritage against technological corruption. Leave spells written in Old Aetherian at sabotage sites, declaration of legitimacy as true heirs to High Elf magical tradition. To them, this is cultural preservation. To DPS, it’s terrorism.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Cloud-fuckers fighting other cloud-fuckers over magical purity. Complicated feelings about them. Understand their anger though, watching cultural heritage get turned into proprietary Neo-Celestine products would radicalize anyone.
Chrome Wardens
Alliance of Wood Elves and rogue Dwarven engineers creating cybernetics integrated with living plants. Distinctive bio-mechanical augments with vines and flowers growing through chrome. Sabotage corporate environmental control systems while maintaining hidden gardens powered by salvaged tech.
Living proof technology can enhance nature instead of murdering it. Their bio-mechanical augments combine Dwarven engineering precision with Wood Elf ecological knowledge—cybernetics that don’t reject organic tissue because they ARE partially organic. Vines growing through chrome plating. Flowers blooming from neural interfaces. Photosynthetic power cells supplementing batteries. Beautiful fusion of what corporations keep separate.
Operate from Little Oaks workshop network, sabotaging environmental control systems corporations use suppressing unmanaged plant growth. Maintain hidden gardens throughout Arclight using salvaged tech, vertical farms powered by illegally tapped power grids, rooftop greenhouses camouflaged from drone surveillance. Proving sustainable urban agriculture works when you stop prioritizing quarterly profits over long-term ecosystem health.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Their bio-tech innovations are genuinely impressive. Would love collaborating openly, but… you know.
RELIGION / CULTS
Faith in post-Shattering Arclight takes forms ranging from practical community support to reality-warping horror. When deities went silent and magic collapsed, some religious institutions adapted. Others… evolved into something else entirely. Three organizations represent this spectrum: Reformed Church providing genuine humanitarian services, Rust Prophets fusing Orcish spirituality with industrial mysticism, and the Grove turning children into things that should never exist.
The Shattering killed gods or at least made them unreachable. Prayers go unanswered. Divine magic stopped functioning. Miracles became historical footnotes. Yet people still need meaning, community, hope that something exists beyond corporate exploitation and algorithmic oppression. Religion fills voids corporations create—sometimes with compassion, sometimes with tradition adapted for survival, sometimes with absolute fucking nightmare fuel.
Reformed Church earns respect through actual humanitarian work. Rust Prophets provide cultural connection for displaced Orcs. The Grove… the Grove needs to be stopped. Documenting these organizations requires acknowledging the range from benevolent to unforgivable.
Reformed Church of Solaris
Modern adaptation of Solaris worship blending ancient tradition with practical support. Classic brass and gold imagery while embracing technology. Offers both physical and virtual services through secure NET channels. Focuses on community service and personal transformation rather than dwelling on divine silence.
Reformed Church adapted when Solaris went silent after the Shattering. Instead of denying their god’s absence or collapsing into despair, they reframed it as test of faith: dawn follows even the longest night, light returns eventually, keep working toward better world while waiting. Pragmatic theology for pragmatic times.
Their Light Houses operate throughout Arclight providing actual humanitarian services. Clergy trained in both religious tradition and modern counseling. Run programs like New Dawn, helping people struggling with cyberware addiction, neural dependency, the psychological weight of augmentation. Free community meals. Job training. Mental health support. Services corporations should provide but won’t because profit margins.
Earned respect even among skeptics through consistent humanitarian work. Stabilizing force in fractured society. When APD abandons lower districts and DPS only protects corporate interests, Reformed Church shows up with food, shelter, counseling. Religion as mutual aid rather than control mechanism.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Reformed Church helped Ajin communities during Dark Age when nobody else would. Provided shelter, resources, medical care to refugees without demanding conversion or compliance. Just… helped people because people needed help. Revolutionary concept in corporate dystopia.
Grove of Endless Summer
Cult operating from forest that grows wild and watchful around ancient hunting lodge. Claims to offer sanctuary to orphaned children. Reality: binds children to crude Aetherlinks causing physical mutation—skin sprouting leaves, tears turning to sap, humanity slipping away into something else entirely.
I need a drink before documenting this one.
The Grove exists on Arclight’s outskirts where corporate influence fades into urban decay. Forest pulses with dark life. Trees twist and shift when nobody’s watching. Inside, they worship entity called the Verdant Mother: corrupted nature force, possible Paradigm Anomaly, maybe something worse. Children get bound to crude Aetherlink devices. Their flesh mutates. Skin sprouts leaves. Tears become sap. They tend plants bearing grotesque human-like fruit while chanting in languages that—
Okay stopping there because I’m going to have nightmares.
--H.YANAGI//Edit--Additional documented facts: Reality destabilizes inside the hunting lodge. Rooms vanish. Corridors form impossible mazes. Windows show ghostly summer scenes from centuries past. In 2097, two DPS Section 3 inspectors entered for investigation. Both returned as hollow-eyed husks, neural chips filled with impossibly old photographs of children playing in endless summer days.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Hana. HANA. How are you just… calmly listing nightmare details like you’re reading grocery inventory?
The Verdant Mother. What IS it? Theories range from Paradigm Anomaly—reality glitch given consciousness—to corrupted pre-Shattering nature deity that survived by feeding on children’s life force. Or something worse we lack framework for understanding. Section 3 won’t investigate further after what happened to those inspectors. Local authorities actively avoid the area.
Children keep disappearing. Orphans nobody tracks. Street kids the system forgot. They vanish into that forest and… change. Become part of something that should never exist. Human-plant hybrids chanting in dead languages while reality unravels around them.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--This needs to be stopped. I don’t care about jurisdictional authority or Section 3’s refusal to engage. This is children being turned into—
--H.YANAGI//Edit--Miss Wintershade. You’re catastrophizing again. We’ve discussed this.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--CATASTROPHIZING?! Hana, there are CHILDREN WITH PLANT PARTS GROWING THROUGH THEIR SKIN. That’s not catastrophizing, that’s accurately describing documented horror!
Fine. Documented facts only: The Grove of Endless Summer transforms children into something inhuman through forced Aetherlink bonding with corrupted nature entity. DPS refuses engagement. Local authorities maintain quarantine zone. Children continue disappearing. This represents worst outcome possible when Paradigm Anomalies intersect with vulnerable populations.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--There. Clinical. Professional. Completely inadequate for describing actual nightmare but at least I’m not screaming.
--FYRIE//♪--dissonant minor seconds descending chromatically, children’s lullaby melody twisted wrong
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Fyrie that is NOT HELPING.
Rust Prophets
Transformed Black Lake’s industrial ruins into sacred ground where machinery rhythms accompany ancient Orcish chants. Forge Shamans conduct ceremonies channeling magical energy through repurposed industrial equipment. Unique techno-shamanic practice turning tools of oppression into instruments of spiritual power.
Orcs reclaiming industrial landscape that exploited them by making it holy. Factory furnaces become ritual pyres. Assembly lines transform into prayer circles. Automated systems rewired responding to shamanic commands. Ancient Orcish spirituality fused with modern industrial technology—neither rejecting tradition nor denying present reality, but synthesizing both into something new.
Led by figure called the Machine Speaker who claims communing with spirit born from fusion of ancient Orcish deities and Black Lake’s industrial machines. Whether that’s literal divine entity or powerful metaphor for cultural adaptation, result is same: displaced Orcs finding both protection and cultural connection through faith sanctifying technology rather than opposing it.
Territory marked by totemic structures welded from factory scrap decorated with glowing runic circuits. Forge Shamans build influence through mix of industrial muscle and spiritual authority. Growing movement among Black Lake Orcs seeking alternatives to corporate exploitation without abandoning their place in industrial economy.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Rust Prophets represent creative cultural survival. Orcs forced into factory work by economic necessity, finding ways making that work spiritually meaningful rather than just soul-crushing labor. Turning oppression’s tools into community’s sacred objects. Impressive adaptation requiring genuine theological innovation.
--FYRIE//♪--rhythmic industrial percussion in D minor with chant harmonics
CONCLUSION
Okay. OKAY. We’re done. Twenty-two organizations documented. Government agencies that predict crimes before they happen. Corporations monopolizing magic through biology. Gangs ranging from community protection to literal human harvesting. Resistance movements I can’t openly support without Section 4 investigations. And religions spanning humanitarian work to gestures at Grove documentation whatever fresh nightmare that is.
I need three drinks, a shower, and possibly therapy. In that order.
--H.YANAGI//Edit--Comprehensive organizational documentation across five major categories. Performance acceptable despite excessive emotional reactions to Grove entry.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--”Excessive emotional reactions”—Hana, there were CHILDREN TURNING INTO PLANTS.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--deep breath
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--Fine. Organizations section complete. Anyone reading this now understands Arclight’s power structures from Trinity Spire down to Black Lake’s factory floors. Government theater. Corporate control. Street-level survival. Resistance efforts. Faith in various nightmare configurations.
--L.WINTERSHADE//Response--If you’ve made it this far without existential despair, congratulations. You’re either very committed to research or emotionally dead inside. Possibly both. Welcome to Arclight.
--FYRIE//♪--exhausted but triumphant chord progression resolving from D minor to D major