Cyberpunk 2021

September 11, 2001. 19:00. Paris.

The city is entering nightfall, illuminated by festival lights and filled with cheerful voices: the beautiful calm before a storm. The iconic glow of the Eiffel Tower bathed the streets of Paris in radiant light, casting long shadows across cobblestone roads and glimmering off the surface of the Seine. The city thrived with life, blending old-world charm with the promise of a brighter future. But beneath the surface, it was all a poorly hidden lie.

In recent years, humanity had made great strides in innovation, rapidly evolving over just a few years. Groundbreaking technologies, developed in the wake of the Cold War, were designed to push society into a new era of prosperity. Everywhere one looked, the darker times seemed to be fading. The world appeared to be moving forward into a future painted with optimism.

The scars of war were healing, replaced by technological marvels that had once seemed like distant dreams. Cars were no longer confined to the ground; prototypes of flying vehicles had already begun to take to the skies. Electronics had become sleek, intuitive, and accessible to all. Cybernetic implants were now able to replace missing human limbs. Life was filled with conveniences that previous generations could never have imagined. Humanity stood on the cusp of a golden age, where innovation would supposedly solve its greatest challenges and unite people across the globe.

Yet... beneath this surface of progress and hope, an unseen shadow loomed. What few realized was that this also marked the beginning of a new era of depression. An era that would take more than twenty years to fully unfold. Economic disparities were widening as the true rewards of progress stayed in the hands of the privileged few. Mental health issues were quietly escalating as people found themselves trapped in cycles of overwork, digital addiction, and relentless pressure to keep pace with the ever-accelerating world. For every step forward humanity seemed to take, it also stumbled several steps back.

And tonight... was when it all truly began.

Amidst the main roads adorned with grand buildings and the vibrant activity of Paris, smaller streets led to quieter suburban areas. In these dimly lit suburbs, rows of low residential houses and condos stood in uniform arrangement.

All was quiet within the area. Local families were having dinner at home, while younger people had already moved to larger areas of the city to party the night away. It was a perfect night for relaxation, which made it an ideal battleground for the wicked.

A group of armed figures moved stealthily toward a condo on one of these dimly lit streets. Five separate groups, each consisting of six soldiers, advanced toward the building with utmost precision. Their attire bore no allegiance to any nation; instead, they wore jet-black, militaristic uniforms featuring a badge reminiscent of the United Nations symbol.

Their armour was sleek but prominent enough for the average person to recognize it as designed for heavy combat. Each soldier carried an array of heavily modified weapons that would put other militaries around the world to shame. Their faces were hidden beneath cylindrical helmets, leaving no trace of identity to be discerned.

The only sounds that pierced the night were the distant noises from the bustling main streets.

They swiftly took their positions against the condo. One group retrieved their equipment for grappling the building, while the others formed precise lines, leaning against each door of the condo. With practiced precision, a soldier leaned against the door and slid a tiny ball underneath it.

Upon hitting the floor, the ball unravelled into a drone that resembled a metallic spider. The spider then proceeded to scan the building. For a few seconds, the soldiers stood in silence before one of them tapped the side of his helmet. The soldier who did so looked at the others and gave a swift hand signal. His teammates immediately moved towards the door and picked the lock.

After a few seconds, a faint click was heard. The door was then gently opened as the team made its way inside. The other teams followed suit, entering the building through other doors, while one team stayed outside. Rifles in hand, they scanned the corners of the room, maintaining perfect synchronization and pace with each other.

On the first floor was an empty lobby with a neatly arranged row of sofas perpendicular to the main entrance of the condo. The walls were dark concrete, and a poorly kept mailbox for the building's residents was attached to one of them. The teams swiftly verified that they were alone before splitting up once more.

Two of the four teams went towards a nearby staircase, while another investigated the building's elevator, and the fourth team remained in place. One of the soldiers within the idle team tapped and held a button on the side of their helmet, activating a communication system. A young male voice, tinged with a hint of a German accent, spoke.

"R-1 reporting to Castle, we've made entry but there are no Tanwir in sight. Have the police arrived? Over," he said with a calm and controlled voice while waiting for Castle's response. It wasn't long before he got one.

"Castle to R-1, police are on their way to support and apprehend. Continue with the mission as briefed. Over." The response came from a deeper, rougher voice belonging to a man who was likely in his late forties.

"Acknowledged. Proceeding to second floor, over." R-1 released the button on his helmet and motioned for his teammates to follow him toward a dark staircase another team was guarding. The members of both teams nodded at each other before they continued with their mission.

As R-1 entered the staircase, his rifle pointed upwards and carefully watching the stairs, his teammates followed him. There was no one there.

After a few moments, one of the teammates lightly tapped R-1 on the shoulder indicating they were ready. Without saying a word, R-1 moved forward.

Step by step, R-1's team ascended the staircase to the second floor. The lights were off, and hushed conversations drifted from behind several apartment doors, some in English and others in French. The soldiers looked to R-1 for further instructions. He quickly used hand gestures and finger signals to assign their roles. Once assigned, the soldiers sprang into action.

The soldiers lined up against the dark brown wooden doors, listening carefully to the conversations on the other side. Amid the idle chatter, two team members overheard a hushed conversation between two men with Middle Eastern accents. The first man, with a young and erratic voice, expressed urgency and readiness.

"Tonight is the night, brother. We need to make sure everything is ready!" Shifting footsteps echoed through the door before a second, much older voice spoke.

"Calm yourself, Ayaan. We must wait for the signal." One of the soldiers leaning against the door narrowed his eyes. His teammate did the same but tapped a button on the side of his helmet. The other soldiers and R-1 nodded in response.

Within seconds, R-1 gave a thumbs-up and pointed two fingers at the door. The soldiers at the door nodded. The first soldier moved towards the door, setting his rifle aside briefly to pick the lock, while the second soldier kept his rifle ready in case of trouble.

As the voices on the other side continued, the soldier swiftly unlocked the door. The team entered the room one by one, guns drawn at the unsuspecting pair. The two men had tattoos of small Islamic symbols on the sides of their necks. The room was a typical apartment with wooden chairs and sofas. On the wall, there was a TV and strange wooden crates stacked with the same Islamic symbols painted on them.

Within seconds, the soldiers processed the scene and ordered, "Freeze! Hands up!"

The two men looked at each other in panic. The younger man quickly raised his hands, dropped to the floor, and began screaming.

"I'm sorry! I surrender," he pleaded. While his companion begged for his life, the older man ran toward one of the bedrooms. Click. Click. A gun was cocked, and then several bullets burst through the thin walls of the apartment. The soldiers took cover behind a sofa and returned fire.

One soldier fired a single shot in return. Two more shots followed from the second soldier. Each bullet pierced the wall from which the original shots came. Silence followed, broken only by the thud of a lifeless body and the clatter of a gun hitting the floor.

The screams of neighbours outside could be heard, but inside the apartment, a deathly silence prevailed. The two soldiers stood and looked at the young man still on the floor, frozen in fear. The first soldier quickly swept the apartment with his gun ready, while the second soldier retrieved a zip tie to apprehend the man.

After sweeping the room, the soldier fired a shot into the man's head, ensuring the already lifeless body stayed down. The scream from the other rooms ceased immediately. Silence followed for a few seconds. The soldier who had tied up the man on the floor tapped the side of his helmet.

"R-5 reporting to R team: Two confirmed Tanwir members in this room. One dead; one tied up. Tanwir boxes are here. We'll begin investigating. Out." After sending the message, additional gunfire erupted a few floors above. Hostile forces could be heard shouting, "It's the UNSAF! Those bastards are here!" R-6 entered the room and pointed to one of the crates. R-5 nodded and addressed the man on the floor.

"Stay on the floor and answer our questions. If you cooperate, you'll be safe. Am I clear?" The man on the floor nodded vigorously. While R-5 questioned him, R-6 cautiously approached the crates and began unlocking them.

"First, where are the chemicals you stole from Germany?" The Tanwir man struggled to respond, prompting R-5 to press on. "We know you stole chemical components for the 'war' effort." Silence followed before the click of a lock was heard. The man on the floor gulped nervously before answering.

"They've been split among various groups across the country." R-5 frowned at the answer and continued his questioning.

"Which groups? Where are they?"

"I don't know."

"What about your weapon suppliers? Who provides your guns?"

"I don't know—" R-6 cut in as he sifted through the crates.

"The crates... they're empty." R-5's tone shifted, becoming slightly erratic and tinged with panic as he looked at R-6.

"What do you mean?"

"There's nothing but plastic in these crates... and Arasaka packaging?" R-6 radioed the discovery to the rest of the team. Meanwhile, R-5 placed his knee lightly on the Tanwir man's body, applying a slight pressure.

"Explain. Now." The minor but sudden pressure prompted the man to speak. When he did, his voice carried a hint of melancholy.

"The chemicals were never with us... I thought you knew that, sir."

"What do you mean?"

"Our group never had the chemicals; they were given to the flight team. We were just given weapons—"

Before he could finish, R-1's voice came over the radio, urgent and loud.

"EVERYONE, DOWN!" R-5 and R-6 dropped to the floor immediately. Moments later, a rumbling echoed through the streets of Paris as a series of explosions ripped through several buildings and set off numerous car alarms. Judgement Day had begun, and the world would soon suffer.