They called it Luminara—the last utopia of mankind, a sanctuary from the chaos outside its towering borders. A city built on smiles, structured by gratitude, and governed by something known only as The Kindness Order.
To live in Luminara was to be blessed. Or so they believed.
The sun shimmered gently over the immaculate streets of marble and glass. People strolled with serene expressions, holding woven baskets filled with pastel-coloured fruits, their voices soft and conversations lighter than air. Laughter floated like chimes in the wind.
Every citizen wore a sleek silver bracelet on their right wrist—the Virtue Band. A faint hum pulsed beneath the surface, monitoring their actions, gestures, and words.
Kindness Points.
For every kind act—helping an elder cross the street, offering your seat, complimenting a stranger—points accumulated. These points determined your social ranking. High-ranking citizens received better food, housing, and even brighter zones of the city. The lowest? Assigned to dim quarters beneath the city, their smiles brittle under forced sunlight.
Rewards. Punishment. Order.
Alwen stood tall at the city's East Gate, the early morning breeze rustling through his coat. His presence demanded attention, and the moment he appeared, a gentle chime echoed from the public speakers:
"Peacekeeper Alwen has returned."
People turned. Eyes widened. Smiles widened.
"Alwen's back!"
"He's safe! Thank the Order!"
"Did you hear? He was sent to neutralize a rebel camp!"
Alwen wasn't just a peacekeeper—he was the peacekeeper. The golden guardian of Luminara. As tall as he was kind, his voice calmed storms. His hands had lifted fallen children, bandaged rebel prisoners, and defended the city's edges more times than anyone could count.
Walking beside him was a bruised, wary outsider. A woman from the outskirts—face grim, eyes wide, steps hesitant. Her bracelet was newly affixed, glowing dimly with the default score of 5,000.
"This," Alwen gestured with pride, "is Luminara. The Kindness Order was established thirty years ago, after the Great Collapse. It's not just a city. It's hope rebuilt."
The outsider said nothing.
He pointed up at the towering obelisk at the center of the city, where golden runes shimmered around a spire:
"The system watches all. But not with malice. With mercy. You do good, you are rewarded. You harm, and you must make amends. It keeps us kind."
He smiled, radiant.
"And our most beloved citizen—our number one—"
His tone dropped reverently.
"—is Elthira. She is the embodiment of the Order's dream."
A massive floating screen flickered to life above the plaza. Elthira's image appeared. Long silver-blonde hair tied loosely, a pastel blue dress flowing in soft silk. Her eyes gentle like springwater, her expression forever calm.
[Ranking: 1 | kindness Score: 999,950]
"She's… beautiful," the outsider muttered.
Alwen nodded. "But it's not just her face. She listens. She remembers everyone's birthdays. She visits the wounded. She teaches children. Her kindness never wavers."
And the city… believed in her.
I mean who doesn't?