Author’s note and prologue

[Smut] ~ [Multiple main leads] ~ [He fall first] ~ [Large size difference]

Due to its inclusion of explicit sexual content, vulgar language, and violence, this book is recommended only for mature readers above the age of 18.

This book does not include any non-consensual sexual scenes. All mature parts are consensual and actively desired by both parties involved.

PROLOGUE:

It was the second half of the fourth millennium and humanity was mired in its own greed. The difference between the poor and the middle class was a thin line divided by one single salary or a single disease. The majority of young adults were exploited for cheap labor and the moment they stopped being productive, they were done for, dependent on the help of their families or forced into crime, theft, and illegal trade to survive.

Fortified cities, giant monsters of steel and concrete, had several levels. At ground level, where the air was heavy with pollution and dust, where neither sunlight nor rain could reach, crime flourished. Bodies were hauled away with the garbage and thrown into giant incinerators or, better yet, recycled and turned into fertilizer, useful one last time even in death. Tens of thousands every day.

The upper levels were a different world altogether. Above the massive foundations of the cities, the privileged lived in high towers, surrounded by beautiful gardens shielded under corpulent glass domes, untouched by the rot below. The air was clean, filtered and controlled.

The people of the upper levels lived in luxury, but it wasn't enough. They sought immortality, attempting to extend their lives through genetic modification and artificial consciousness transfer, hoping to live forever in the perfect utopia they'd create. The sheer amount of funding that went into this research was unheard of, but fortunately it created enough job opportunities that even people of lower birth were hired.

This unfortunate young woman was hopelessly uneducated to even participate in the interview. Anna had been studying on her own for two years when she found out that the biggest lab in her town was expanding. She lied about her practice and diploma on her resume, but the company somehow invited her to the practical test, followed by three more interviews, the last suspiciously only one on one.

She remembered how the unusually handsome man greeted her with a warm smile, firm handshake and cup of sparkling water she eagerly accepted. Talented. He called her talented. He, Mr. Miller from all people, the owner's direct representative. The university wasn't really their preferred one, but he hired her regardless. Manipulated with his charming smile into accepting the offered position, she provided the company with all her remaining personal information, signed every document with her mind blinded by the open-ended contract, the paid health and social insurance, and most importantly - the amount on her paycheck.

She was used to survive on about 20 to 22 units monthly. And they offered her 1600 standardized units. Every fucking month. With 8% raise per year. And one free meal every day, meeting strict food standards for workers of IV. grade. By the age of 23, she had crawled out of poverty and tasted the sweet financial stability of the middle class. 

Just after her first month working, Anna switched from tasteless protein bricks to instant meals and soups, from tap to properly filtered bottled water, from petroleum jelly to actual beauty cream and lip gloss. For the first time in her short life, she felt like a human being. 

And finally, after a few more months, she managed to rent a studio apartment on her own, after decades of sleeping on bunk beds with dozens of other uncertified girls her age. The fact that she could afford so much privacy filled her with pride, even though her unit was barely the size of a car elevator. Yet it was her safe space, the only place where she could truly be at ease.

She didn't really recalled when it all went so wrong. Maybe the lifetime vow of confidentiality she signed after the end of her probationary period at work should raise some questions, but at that time, she did not care about anything but money. And the fixed 550 raise was too tempting to let go. 

They assigned her to the private part of the lab, where she shared space with only about fifty other specialists. The desks here were sturdier and the level of security much higher than what she was used to. She was excited to get started and thanked the lab technician as he pulled a fresh batch of samples from the large cart and placed them on her table.

As she realized just what kind of samples they worked with on this floor, she panicked, her morals momentarily winning over all reason. Crying and shouting at her colleagues, she was maneuvered out of the laboratory by the security, straight to Mr. Miller's office. Even now, she clearly recalled his cold smile, when he pointed at the chair.

Dean Miller. The perfect gentleman. A well-paid professional, used to dealing with employers like her on a daily basis. His assistant, an insanely attractive middle-aged redhead in a tailored suit and shoes that cost more than twice Anna's annual salary, handed him a thin file and left with the soft click of her heels on the polished marble.

He opened it and, to her horror, began to give several expert opinions on the authenticity of her birth certificate, diploma, and other documents she provided. As a final blow, he mentioned that no one at the company she quoted in her resumee could find any trace of her working for them. Her heart dropped and was shattered to pieces. 

A cheap, uncertified bitch who lied her way out of lower class. That's what he called her, unable to face his own mistake. And he even started to like her for her sharp mind and bright ideas, pushing the project forward by tiny steps. Disgust boiled inside him as he snapped, forcing her to show him the scar.

"What?" Anna froze, barely able to hide her horror.

"The SCAR. Show it to me or I swear I will call the Peacekeepers and they will undoubtedly deal with you. These are serious crimes. You're lucky I haven't turned you in yet."

With trembling fingers, she managed to unzip her lab coat and loosen her pants, revealing the pale scar below her navel. It was left over from the mandatory hysterectomies performed on female babies who were not genetically fit to be certified, relegated to a life as a laborer. It was too inconvenient to pay for a childbearing woman's health care. And it was cheaper to simply grow the next workforce in the artificial wombs, dealing with the low birthrates.

"You made a fool of me. If the board finds out I hired an uneducated lowlife like you, I will lose my bonus, so you better return to your table and work your ass off. I want perfect results. Not a fucking peep from you will be heard," He hissed, the mask of well behaved gentleman lost in his anger and bitter disappointment. 

The only reason she escaped trial, conviction, and likely severe punishment was the pride of her boss. His pride and quiet admiration, but she didn't knew that. From that day, she was sure to keep her mouth shut and do her best to cross him as little as possible.

She was even allowed to keep her position. And even though she was grateful for that, she could never forget the anger in his face, remembering his words every time she saw him. No longer she thought of him as of a handsome young man. More than ever he resembled a snake. A snake tightly coiled around her, crushing her bones.

And he saw the change in their dynamic as well. Just a few words to the authorities and she will be used as an exemplary case, probably severely punished and locked up in one of the labor prisons for the rest of her life. 

Dean relished in the power he held over her, his ego inflated every time he catched her gaze. She really was pretty when she was scared and he started to develop unhealthy fixation on her.

It was early spring when an exciting breakthrough was introduced in the cyber sector. After six years of testing, debugging, and perfecting the hardware, the developers opened the servers to the public.

The stock of the company Anna worked for dropped 12% in just four days, and Dean Miller was barely present in the office to explain the slow progress of his program.

It almost looked like he was going to be fired, but the marketing department was able to save the situation at the last moment. But Anna was not interested in any of this. Maybe because of the anger she still felt about the unethical research her company was conducting, maybe out of pure curiosity, she ordered the VR helmet among the first wave of users.

As a Class IV worker, she had to work a 50-hour schedule every week. No exceptions. No one cared if she got it done in the first three days and decided not to show up for the rest of the week as long as she got it on her attendance record.

And that was exactly what she did this week, eager to try out the simulated reality without interference. The server had been online for almost three weeks when her helmet finally arrived. It had used up all her savings and she still had to take out a small loan to pay for it, it had better be worth every single unit.

After a dreamless night of wiggling and soft snoring, Anna awoke to a loud noise coming from the hallway, sat up, and looked at the small package placed next to her neatly arranged shoes. 

It was a shame that she had to wait until morning, but she was sleep-deprived and the night was usually full of power outages.

Anna endured a quick cold shower and hastily pulled her long dark hair into a messy bun.

"Calm down, calm down," she muttered softly as she sat back down on her bed with the small box in her trembling arms. Braced for disappointment and preparing to fill out a refund form, she finally connected all the wires and cables. Her life was unbearable at that point. With the headset in place, she shut out the cold reality and embraced the new experience.