Legacy of the Void Fleet

On the fifth day, the Terra Federation initiated another significant reform: the mass rollout of VR and AR devices, including headsets and immersion pods, into the civilian market.

To ensure universal access, the Federation provided a subsidy of 1,000 Terra Credits to every citizen, enabling even the lowest-income individuals to purchase at least the most basic versions of VR or AR systems.

But this move wasn’t just about letting people experience the marvels of virtual technology—it was a strategic shift in how the Terra Federation would function going forward.

The Federation had begun transitioning many of its key administrative, governmental, and civic services from the physical world to the virtual realm.

This change was driven by both practical necessity and visionary planning. With many regional headquarters and administrative buildings still under construction, and newly planned megacities not yet operational, it was far more efficient to create a unified, immersive digital platform that citizens could access from anywhere.

From their homes, citizens could now:

Access government services

Attend public hearings

Participate in policy feedback

Engage in training, education, and even job functions—all in VR

Departments like Housing Allocation, Public Health, Resource Distribution, and Civil Affairs had begun operating in full or partial capacity within virtual hubs, providing responsive service while physical infrastructure continued to develop.

This virtual-first approach also reduced bureaucratic congestion, ensured greater reach and inclusivity, and aligned with the Federation’s broader push toward a tech-integrated society.

Indeed, the Federation’s subsidy of 1,000 Terra Credits proved immensely successful. For many citizens, it meant that purchasing a VR or AR device was practically free, thanks to the government’s financial support.

Excitement swept across the population, as people rushed to experience, for the first time, the wonders of fully immersive virtual worlds.

But behind the excitement lay a deeper purpose.

When users first logged into their VR or AR devices, they weren’t greeted with entertainment or simulations—they were automatically routed to an administrative interface.

There, a full biometric scan was performed using the headset or pod’s advanced sensory systems. This included facial mapping, body measurements, neural pattern recognition, and even voice print verification.

From this, a personalized Terra Federation account was generated—one more secure and tamper-proof than any prior identity system ever used on Earth. It became the citizen’s unified digital identity, linking them directly to all Federation systems: from healthcare and taxation to employment records and education.

This process was not merely about onboarding people into a virtual government—it was part of a larger transition.

The Federation was quietly and efficiently building a fully tech-integrated society, while also achieving something no previous government had managed: an accurate, real-time population census, along with centralized, secure identity verification for every living citizen.

The shift was subtle but sweeping. With one policy, the Terra Federation had taken a major leap toward a future where governance, identity, and interaction would exist seamlessly in both physical and digital space.

What Happened to the Previous Countries and Their Regional Boundaries?

Well, they were unified—but not in the traditional sense.

Under the Terra Federation, the world was reorganized into five major regions. Each region was governed by a Regional Lord, a new formal position somewhat equivalent to a former national president or prime minister, but with broader authority over a much larger unified territory.

These lords did not hold military power directly, except through property rights and the eventual legalization of private militaries—though that only became relevant after the dawn of the space age, a topic for future discussion.

One such region was the Northern Avalon, ruled by the former president of the Star of Avalon. He served both as the High Councilor and as the Regional Lord, overseeing not just Avalon itself but two other major former countries.

In essence, a Regional Lord was like a mayor of a state—except the federation replaced all federal structures, becoming the ultimate authority. Everything a former national leader could do, a Regional Lord could as well—but on a much larger scale.

The other regions were:

Southern Avalon – Largely administered by the former Erosian Union and its member nations.

Indus Region – A vast area combining the former African, Arabian, and Indra Empire territories into a single unified zone.

Greater Bear Region – Included the lands of the former Bear Empire and other smaller countries, spanning nearly half of the Asian continent.

Dragon Region – Comprised the Jiāng Empire and other smaller island nations, as well as major territories bordering the northern and southern Pacific Oceans.

Each of these five major regions was further divided into sub-regions, governed by Sub-Regional Governors, many of whom were once presidents, prime ministers, or notable leaders of their former countries.

At the lowest level were the City Lords, classified by tier rankings to help the Terra Federation evaluate which areas needed further development, investment, or administrative attention.

Currently, all the major regions of Earth were being managed directly by the Five High Councilors of the Terra Council. These individuals held sweeping authority—governing infrastructure, economy, education, and even military directives. Yet even this structure wasn’t meant to last forever.

The council’s central AIs had already projected that within one to six months, Earth would stabilize. By then, most of the massive reform projects would be complete—new megacities would rise where once only ruins stood, minor cities and industrial colonies on Earth’s orbit would be operational, and the bulk of the training for Terra’s new military and law enforcement units would be finished.

After that, the Terra Council structure would evolve, likely decentralizing its power to regional administrations and elected planetary officials.

By that time—a year at most—Earth would finally begin its true journey to the stars.

Naturally, the Void Fleet would provide the necessary technology to make that possible. Even as a unified planet, achieving such rapid progress toward the space age within a single year was something Earth simply couldn’t do on its own.

It still needed guidance—and that, Kallus believed, was his role to play. The pace of development Earth was now experiencing would have normally taken centuries, if not millennia, of slow and gradual evolution.

Yet here it was, accelerating toward a future that had once seemed impossibly distant.

Exactly twelve days had passed since the Void Fleet returned to Sol from its decisive battle with a minor clan’s war fleet in the outer systems. The changes that followed were staggering. Earth, still very much a planet under construction, already looked unrecognizable to those who had known the old world.

The people—while initially disoriented by the loss of national borders and former governments—had begun to accept the new reality.

Yes, there had been grief. Pride in one’s country doesn’t vanish overnight. But that pride was tempered by something else:

Hope.

But hope for what?

Progress—and evolution. That was what they were hoping for.

And they were already beginning to see the benefits. Pollution was gradually being dealt with at an accelerating rate. Earth’s air was transforming—becoming purer with each passing day. Industrial upgrades were happening faster than anyone had anticipated.

Yet surprisingly, instead of eliminating jobs, this transformation was creating them. Earth was preparing for the future—and in that future, it would need more hands than ever before.

So, the increase in employment felt natural. Even though certain industries were being upgraded and some jobs were being phased out, new factories and sectors were rising in their place all over the world. Those who had just been laid off were being rehired elsewhere, often within weeks.

And this wasn’t the only change. Many good things were happening. People couldn’t help but feel that their hope wasn’t misplaced—They were right.

Diseases once thought incurable were being eradicated through advanced medical serums—many modeled on the Void Fleet’s Advancement Serums, which rebuilt cells and eliminated infections at the molecular level.

Schools and universities now operated inside VR simulation zones where students learned in highly immersive, fully interactive environments—so real they were indistinguishable from the physical world.

But this wasn’t just about efficiency. It was about ambition. About a dream that once seemed unreachable:

Humanity’s leap to the stars.

In the old world, such a dream might have taken centuries. Even with all global resources combined, the hurdles were too vast.

Now?

Now, Earth was racing forward like an unstoppable engine—not because a few dreamed, but because everyone did. A single ambition united them all: to step beyond Earth and become something greater.

This relentless push was revealing humanity’s true potential. When united, working together toward a common goal, their progress wasn’t just steady—it was astonishing.

Even the small push Kallus had made months ago in the educational sector was bearing fruit. With just a few reference materials and foundational knowledge he had shared, countless new technologies were being developed.

From simple textbooks came breakthroughs that were changing the face of Earth itself.

And this was only the beginning—just a glimpse of what was to come in the days, weeks, months, and years ahead.

Only twelve days had passed, yet the rate of progress was accelerating faster and faster, as if Earth itself had awakened from a long slumber and was now surging toward its destiny.