Kafft's Tower - The heir of "The Valley"

The only dream

In front of the window, as every night, I contemplate a nighttime panorama of our city; tonight, the atmosphere is gloomier and more laden, enveloping it in a cloak of mystery and shadows that intensifies its great beauty. The darkness highlights the imposing silhouette of some of the gigantic buildings that rise up to the sky, their shapes barely visible but imposing enough to command absolute respect.

The atmosphere tonight seems denser and more enigmatic, as if the city harbors secrets that are only revealed in the darkest hours. Suddenly, drops begin to hit the glass of my window; it will start to rain soon, so I decide to retreat to my bed. As I head there, my attention is captured by the full-length mirror that adorns one of the walls of my room. In its reflection, the figure of a young man with a delicate build, somewhat disheveled blonde hair, and blue eyes reflecting the curiosity typical of my fifteen years is revealed. I don't reach the height of some of my friends, but so far, life has treated me well.

It's time to rest, and as I wander through my room, clad in a completely blue pajama set that, though somewhat loose, wraps me in the warmth of memories from the last Christmas holidays. It's a gift I cherish quite a lot. Every detail, from the raindrops hitting my window to the soft touch of the pajamas, contributes to the unique atmosphere of this night, moments where you can't explain what you're feeling, something strange but good.

Tonight, a strange unease has taken hold of me, preventing me from finding the rest I so desperately need. I experience that nervous sensation focused on my stomach, while my mind spins in a frantic attempt to amplify the source of my unease. Behind me, on the wall, the date, time, and year are reflected, as a constant reminder of the relentless march of time.

I turn to look at the information panel that spans almost the entire width of the wall. This device, about two meters wide and a meter and a half high, is a constant presence in every room of my home, as well as in the rooms of all the inhabitants of the nation of Kírol. Four small black devices strategically anchored to the wall display these information panels, and the light projects the crucial data that the nation shares with us.

In red letters, the present moment is proclaimed:

"9:54 p.m. Tuesday, December 9, 2070"

Every digit, every letter, comes to life in the darkness of the room, reminding me that I am immersed in a world where time is both my ally and my adversary, marking the rhythm of an existence guided by the information flowing through these panels, making you feel that, whether you like it or not, you are part of this whole system, connecting us all in the vast network of the Nation of Kírol.

I reach my bed with the intention of finally resting and lie down. I begin to hear the rain hitting the window glass with increasing force. I have a bad feeling, and that keeps me tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep. The room is silent; I turn off the room light by sliding my finger over the remote control. Although my room might seem like that of a boy living in 2010, many things have changed; everything is robotic, and although artificial intelligence was a discovery meant to improve life on the planet, it was suppressed for the good of humanity, limited to a few tasks, before the Fourth World War. Now, I can only hear the raindrops pounding against the window glass, disrupting my tranquility. I try not to pay attention to that torturous noise, but it's impossible not to heed its call.

For a few minutes, I feel relaxed, entering a state of mental peace that is difficult for me to achieve, and I think that sleep is finally going to overcome the nerves coursing through my body. But a loud gunshot echo through my house, causing me to jump out of bed.

I quickly leave my room, my body trembling. The hallway is dark, the only light source coming from the street through the windows of the house, giving it a terrifying atmosphere. The house lights have gone out; no matter how much I pass my hand over the remote control to turn them on, they don't respond. I call out to my mother from the upper floor; she usually is in the living room around this time, but she doesn't answer, so I start going downstairs to look for her since my father must still be at work and hasn't returned.