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A dazzling holographic sunset blazed across the expansive panoramic window, bathing the lavish penthouse living room in vibrant hues of orange and lavender. Kael lounged on an exquisitely plush, cloud-like sofa, utterly transfixed by the simulated view. It had been years since he had glimpsed the genuine article – the real sky – something that was rapidly becoming a sore sight to behold as the Earth's ozone layer continued its precipitous depletion.
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An artificial breeze gently ruffled his pajamas, a comforting gesture courtesy of the penthouse's ever-attentive AI, striving to create an ambiance of tranquility for its sole occupant. His parents' absence was a familiar ache; they hadn't graced this opulent space since he was seven, choosing instead to devote themselves to the increasingly dire plight of the world. A selfish thought momentarily surfaced – that they had prioritized the world over their own child – but Kael quickly dismissed it. Of course they had chosen to serve a higher calling.
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The melodic chime from the foyer disrupted his reverie, closely followed by the refined tones of his AI butler and chaperone, Alistair. "Master Kael, your tutor, Professor Zorn, has arrived."
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A petulant groan escaped Kael's lips, accompanied by an exaggerated roll of his eyes. Professor Zorn, with his droning lectures on intergalactic politics and archaic military history, possessed all the excitement of watching a datapad buffer. A personal tutor, hired to ground him in strategies, politics, and history – it was the embodiment of tedium.
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"Tell him I'm indisposed," Kael mumbled, hoping Alistair would interpret his mood accurately. But the AI's uncanny ability to see through his ruses was unmatched.
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"Sure, would you like me to inform Professor Zorn that you would rather lay sprawled on the couch doing nothing, than listen to him deliver his lectures?" Alistair's neutral, synthetic voice carried an unmistakable hint of amusement. The AI often found Kael's antics mildly entertaining, perhaps even relatable on some level.
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Hesitantly, Kael extricated himself from the sofa's plush embrace, which clung to him like a jealous lover. "Fine," he sighed, raking a hand through his sleep-tousled hair. "Send him up."
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Professor Zorn cut an imposing figure as he entered, garbed in a meticulously tailored three-piece suit that epitomized the current fashion. His once fiery hair was now liberally flecked with gray, and his sharp eyes held a weary glint, hinting at battles hard-fought.
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The professor cleared his throat. "Good afternoon, Kael. I trust you've been keeping up with your studies?"
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Kael knew better than to dissemble. "Professor, you know that I find history... uninspiring," he confessed with a sheepish smile.
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Zorn heaved a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "The Military demands dedication, not amusement, young man. It's not a playground for bored Elites."
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"But isn't that exactly what it is?" Kael countered, a touch of bitterness tingeing his voice. "A haven for privileged children playing soldier?"
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Zorn fixed him with a long, penetrating stare. "It's more than that, Kael. The Cyber-ops Program trains humanity's last hope. Forget conquering more planets – the only thing we can fight for now is our very survival. We're lucky Earth is already degrading to this point. Most conquerors have long since written it off as a failed planet, unworthy of their attention."
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He paused, his gaze softening. "It's humanity's last hope. Your parents have been fighting this war for most of their lives, and they are losing. Even if we aren't conquered within the next five years, Earth will become truly uninhabitable. We'd last at most two more years before we face extinction as a race. We are running out of time."
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Kael remained impassive. "I already know all this. It doesn't change the fact that the Cyber Ops is nothing but a fancy military charade for the children of the elites. Something we would often laugh at. But for the poor, it's just another advantage the rich have over them, even when it comes to defending our world. It seems like the government isn't interested in finding the most qualified for the job. Instead, we waste our resources on spoiled brats."
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Professor Zorn leveled a hard stare at his recalcitrant student. "The program can't be wasted on those who are not prepared. We simply don't have the resources to comb the entire planet for talented individuals while we're teetering on the brink of extinction. Instead, we have to establish a foundation and build upon what we have. The children of the rich already possess a certain level of preparedness for us to work with."
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Kael refused to back down, his conviction unshaken. "But we have the resources to lavish the already wealthy with the latest tech and amenities, while those who truly need them go without. We claim that we're all in this together, fighting extinction as one, but we've successfully blocked any commoners' chance of advancing through the ranks, of becoming successful and famous in their own right. We have a wealth of untapped talent out there, and you know it. But your pride won't let you allow commoners to mingle with your privileged offspring. Alistair, back me up on this."
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The AI's measured tones filled the charged silence. "While I cannot claim to be an expert on military strategy or social dynamics, I cannot help but observe a certain... inconsistency in our approach. On one hand, we proclaim a unified front against the threat of extinction, yet our actions serve to divide and segregate our population along economic lines. It does seem paradoxical to deliberately exclude a significant portion of our species from participating in our collective survival effort."
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Kael shot Zorn a triumphant look. "See? Even the AI gets it."
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Zorn pinched the bridge of his nose again, struggling to maintain his composure. "Kael, you're not comprehending the larger picture here. The Cyber Ops program is far more than just a training ground – it's a meticulously designed system that takes into account a myriad of factors, both pragmatic and philosophical. We can't simply throw open the doors to any warm body that expresses an interest. There are security protocols, clearance levels, proprietary technologies."
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"We're not talking about any old civilian plucked off the streets," Kael scoffed. "I'm sure there are plenty of intelligent, capable individuals from less affluent backgrounds who could meet your stringent criteria, if only you'd give them a chance."
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"You're oversimplifying a complex situation," Zorn countered. "The selection process is multifaceted and nuanced. We're not just looking for raw intelligence or physical prowess – we need candidates with a certain... pedigree, for lack of a better word. Individuals whose families have been steeped in the ideology and culture of the Military for generations. A depth of understanding and commitment that runs in their very blood."
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Kael rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh, please. You're just pulling rationales out of thin air to justify your elitist policies. Don't try to dress it up as some grand philosophical imperative."
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"I'm not trying to justify anything," Zorn said, his voice rising in frustration. "I'm simply laying out the realities we're dealing with. Like it or not, the children of the elite class are our best shot at maintaining continuity and preserving our way of life in the face of existential threats."
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"Our way of life?" Kael echoed incredulously. "You mean the way of life that got us into this mess in the first place? The rampant over-consumption, the disregard for the environment, the blind pursuit of power and domination at any cost? Yeah, that's really something worth preserving."
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Zorn's expression hardened. "We're not talking about perpetuating the mistakes of the past. We're talking about safeguarding the fundamental principles and ideals that make us human – our intellectual and cultural heritage, our capacity for innovation and progress. Without those core values, we might as well resign ourselves to extinction."
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"And you think the scions of the rich and powerful are the ones best equipped to uphold those 'core values'?" Kael shook his head in disbelief. "Talk about delusional."
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"It's not delusion, it's pragmatism," Zorn insisted. "In a crisis situation, you have to work with the resources at your disposal.
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Alistair's synthetic voice rang out like an impartial referee. "Master Kael, while I confess your idea does hold merit – there is certainly no shortage of untapped talent among the commoner population – we already have an established system in place. We must also consider the unfortunate reality that the exo-bonding process carries significant risks. Can you imagine the public outcry if some of the commoners we selected didn't survive the procedure? It's a factor that demands careful consideration."
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Zorn could barely conceal his glee at having the AI's implicit support. "As I've said, Kael, we simply cannot allow those filthy commoners to mingle amongst us elite. Now that we've settled that matter, let's proceed with today's lesson on the fall of planet Moren and the critical shortcomings of their military that ultimately led to their demise. I instructed you to familiarize yourself with this topic before our session. Tell me, what insights have you gleaned?"
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Kael's formerly defiant expression morphed into that of a petulant child, bracing for an inevitable scolding. "like I said, I actually didn't get a chance to read up on it. "
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Zorn fixed the young scion with a withering stare of disappointment. "All that bluster about the rich taking advantage, and look who's squandering the privileges of his status. A mere two-hour reading assignment, and you couldn't even muster the discipline to complete it. Pathetic. Perhaps I should inform your father of your chronic lack of application. Maybe he'd prefer to take a more personal, hands-on approach to your education. Maybe he'd even..."
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Professor Zorn's dressing-down of his recalcitrant pupil was interrupted mid-flow by Alistair's synthesized tones. "Professor Zorn, I apologize for the interruption, but a priority message requires Master Kael's immediate attention."
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