The simulation began by lying.
The first lie mattered.
It was not the district. Not the civilians. Not the projected blood, broken stone, or shouting echoing from corridors that had never existed before the crystal built them.
The lie was fairness.
Everyone entered the same simulation and received different truths. Gold Hall saw order collapse. Piety saw moral contamination. Obsidian saw route danger. Seraphina saw patients. Ren saw witnesses. I saw every arrow trying to turn me into the center despite the rule forbidding one.
Fairness would have been kinder.
Useful.
That was polite of it.
Most systems lied later.
Strategic Hall dissolved around us in a wash of silver light, and the exercise district rose from the floor like an academy dream designed by someone with legal training and unresolved cruelty.
Three main halls.
Two medical zones.
A chapel shelter.
A noble command post.
Obsidian dorm corridors.
Service passages.
Broken courtyard.
One sealed archive door.
