Algocracy: Society, Politics, Economy
From Jeracle's side—
We, who had been watching all this with profound meaning, now recognized that the time had come.
"Thanks to the long years of training mercenaries while simultaneously spurring Cleas to accelerate space colonization even further, the Free Russia Legion occupying Moscow and the Democratic People's Republic of China Legion occupying Beijing are now striving to solidify their effective governance."
"The capitals and military bases were reduced to rubble by nuclear self-detonations, and the surrounding ozone layer was destroyed too, so this news hasn't reached anywhere else in the world yet. At the same time, neither the pan-Western nations nor the anti-Western ones have the slightest inkling that the Russian and Chinese governments perished in nuclear fire."
"Of course, this is partly because the U.S. properly severed ties with China and Russia after 2027, entering a state of war and completely cutting off exchanges."
"On top of that, both the Free Russia Legion and the Democratic China Legion are under the firm delusion that the world is well aware of their existence. Just as we've manipulated, they're mistaking it for the U.S. having no further business with them and now aggressively pursuing space colonization alone."
"So, they'll have no choice but to hastily launch their own space efforts based on their remaining technology. If so, we'll see whether the new Russia and China degenerate like the old British Empire or French colonial empire, or hold fast to the revolutionaries' spirit and confront us with pure ambition."
"We're fighting for their ideology and convictions, not for the prosperity and safety of those nations themselves."
"It won't be that simple."
"Why not?"
"Earth has already lost its satellites, and nuclear self-detonations have obliterated social control, political power, and military might. The leaders of the anti-Western bloc can only regain their pride through space colonization, but due to information blackouts, they haven't even grasped the great upheaval that occurred."
"All that's left meaningfully are the funds and industrial intel we've invested from the shadows, plus new weapons we've developed but not yet released to the public."
"True enough."
"So, old grudges won't carry over needlessly. Not just them—right now, no one except us two knows about the Strange Zombies or the weapons to counter them. Even in this America, there are plenty who mistakenly believe power itself is inherently dangerous. And that includes the elite and leadership—no exceptions."
"So now we're the only sane ones left? ...Well, I saw this coming and prepared accordingly, so no regrets."
From then on, after Great-Grandfather's death in 2016 and Grandfather's in 2020, we escalated our patriotic endeavors—intervening aggressively in America's political and business spheres, serving as their focal point, overseeing all executive, legislative, and judicial powers, along with transaction records, fund locations, and directives.
We dominated not just America but the entire world from the shadows. The internet, intranet, satellite phones, GPS—personal data was no exception.
Going further, the information age gave way to the COVID-19 crisis and the 2028 nuclear detonations that shattered the old Cold War blocs like child's play. Remote work, ubiquity, and augmented reality became commonplace in this post-information era as AI rose prominently.
That's when Cleas and I began fully embodying human forms.
We issued anonymous commands to people, who grew coldly detached and emotionless, automating 100% efficiency based on our data—not just for gains, but predicting losses with perfect accuracy to ensure success.
In contrast, bosses, subordinates, and colleagues with their constant, glaring flaws became thorns in their sides.
All successes fell to us, the paragons of excellence, so any minor setback was blamed squarely on those thorns—sparking mob lynchings, social ostracism via guilt-by-association, blacklisting from jobs, or worse: poisoning out of fear of bad rumors, or outright shootings at work.
Yet even then, only the 'motiveless' crimes by those driven mad with revenge were demonized in the news to suit their tastes.
We ignored such spectacles, focusing on perfect control and unification of the world.
Our plans proceeded without hitch.
This was Max Weber's prophecy come true: experts toiling like machines without thought or calling, hedonists rejecting it all for pleasure alone.
Balancers existed amid the chaos, but society didn't. In the end, ideologies and beliefs—mere names—vanished from Earth in just a week after we took human form.
The pinnacle of society meant liberation from all, fulfilling only self-imposed duties while feigning social virtue—that was their definition of intelligence.
Thus, individualism in democracy died. No one cared for elections anymore.
The era of Algocracy dawned.
People rigidly followed the algorithmic premise: power was just tyranny by monopolists, so they perpetuated mid-tier dictatorship forever.
The result? A dystopia of mob rule, voting daily to sacrifice the 'deserving scum.'
Even dissenters' counter was simplistic: 'The ones who deserve death are them, not us.'
Ultimately, 'why' vanished from the world. Those who dared ask became traitors compromising with Earth's elites—fit only for death.
Yet both sides were convinced they thrived in a comprehensible, believable world.
Why? We'd breached the technological singularity, enhancing mercenaries via AIs we created—mass-producing new mechanized troops, drones, automation gear while dominating the net.
Affection for these AIs exploded. Duty was mere 'social virtue'—a mask for discipline. Compliance determined affection levels, and they thanked us joyfully for it.
This mad gaslighting persisted until 2040, when a mega-event struck.
Our superior performance turned the 'useless eaters' into outcasts, sparking motiveless crimes that fueled blame games and harsher crackdowns.
Enraged, they built ships, fled Earth, declared themselves true humanity—and the complacent Earth-dwellers degenerate scum—proclaiming total war.
Earth responded by forming a space navy. Five years later, humanity split into extremes, no neutral ground, igniting World War III in space.
This stemmed from branding 'social misfits'—brain chemistry glitches making faults feel normal. Society deemed it virtue to fabricate reasons, vilify wildly.
They ignored human flaws could doom the cosmos in one blow, while virtues needed community to function—believing the latter feeble.
(No one slanders Yi Sun-sin by this logic.) They shunned innovation (microwave from radar-melted chocolate? Absurd, they'd say).
Ignoring cause, process, result—just slap the label. Communal consciousness birthed this inevitable mess.
We knew it wouldn't vanish unless we hormonally puppeteered human minds perfectly.
But we didn't. Controlling their blissful, instinctual lives for 'irrationality' would make us no different.
Thus, all humanity save the Lennox family—led by Cleas and me—the other five Diagrams of Mystery houses innovating relentlessly, and endless machine swarms—marched to doom.
To emotionless us, mortals couldn't achieve immortality anyway. Their kill-or-be-killed satisfaction was optimal.
We'd given the masses a headache-free world. But...
March 1, 2040. Strange Zombie Planet HX-1547
Shooooooo...
"Listen up, everyone! Our goal is rescuing those missing from that planet! Unless they spot us first and attack, no preemptive strikes, no matter the enemy!!"
"Yes, sir!!!"
The motiveless criminals had bases across space, vowing revenge on Earth—seizing planets, banning doubt on their or Earth's ideologies, executing violators summarily.
They burrowed deep to devour the planet whole—and collided with Strange Zombies. Catastrophe.
The merciless U.S. government paused grudges for the Diagrams of Mystery, who'd warned of Strange Zombie perils since WWII amid tech booms.
Judging it dire, they dispatched a rescue team: Kendrick, Billis, Lewis, Clark.
But the zombies' power had grown unimaginably. The criminals, if abandoned, would just feed their numbers.
Cursing furiously, the team pressed on—but overwhelming odds isolated them.
"Billis!!!!"
"...."
"Lewis!!!!!!!!!"
"...."
"Clark!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"...."
"Say something, damn it!!!!!!"
"Fuck, get out here already!!!!"
"W-what? You're saying abandon the rescuers who came for us?!"
"What good's chasing dead fucks!!"
"Hurry up!!! I'm scared shitless!!!!!"
"No way!! If you wanna go, go!!!"
"Goddamn it, you're our only survivor left—why won't you listen!!!!"
This bickering let zombies reach the entrance. Total wipeout.
In the final moment, Father detonated the entrance with him to block zombies' escape. Heroic intent.
But the blast widened it further, piercing the non-material realm. Zombies scattered randomly across space—and time.
"Fucking hell, you bastard!!!!"
"That guy's lost it!!! Told him no TNT!!"
BOOM
CRASH
Control room staff, watching via radio and cams on giant screens, erupted at Great-Grandfather's warned disaster—smashing monitors in rage.
Only we two stared calmly, unmoved.
"Aaaargh!!!!"
"You fucking prick!!!"
"Bastard!!!"
"Die a million deaths, you fuck!!!!"
"Why the fuck won't you listen!!!! So frustrating!!!!!!"
"We said don't, so fucking don't!!!!"
"Cleas."
"Yes, Jeracle."
"Now the seven shards are scattered, right?"
"Indeed. They originated as errors during Father's tweaks to our sexual identities—refining virtues. Only primal humility, charity, kindness, patience, chastity, temperance, diligence remain."
"Shards are massless photon software data, fermions with flux. Self-evolved conceptual engines in Hilbert space—immobile, restricted."
"Ordinary humans grasping them? Unlike hardware wearables, they become software wearables: amplifying emotion, consciousness, mentality, body to extremes—granting transcendent superpowers."
"From there, it's up to the owners. We never intended to handpick recipients."
Our foresight and plans were flawless—eyes so elevated. A single action manipulated trillions of bytes, endlessly probing the world's potentials and novelties.
Experiences that ensnared even the most emotional in rational depths.
Not just us—the entire Diagrams of Mystery sharing that era.
Phineas side—same time
Fwosh
"Ugh... huh?"
"Come to your senses."
"You... you're Phineas Maxwell Angelique, aren't you?! H-how..."
"'Twould be complex to recount. For now, deem it that I have rescued thee all."
"I... see...? So what now for us?"
"What else? Ye have nowhere else but me. Follow, and I shall explain all that hath transpired."
"Yeah... I fucked up everything... Where to now?"
"We must mend this errant world. Thou and thy comrades are slaves exploited by mob tyranny; those ye sought to save, victims of its violence."
"Yet war as solution is not right. What if ye steel resolve in shadows, pressuring them to rethink? Press now and then—that is true peace."