Europa-Institut für Zukunftsforschung.
Created under the directive of the European Federation, its mission was to make higher education in predictive systems, artificial intelligence, and socio-technological modeling accessible to all, regardless of social class.
To put it simply, a state-funded institution for those who had nothing.
The Republic’s education grant, Projekt Wiederaufbau, funded promising students from low-income families, refugees, and orphans. Through this initiative, individuals like Michael were given a chance to study fields once reserved for the privileged few.
But that also meant the institute had become a harvest ground for those with ulterior motives.
"Have you thought about it, Michael?"
The voice came from behind him.
Michael didn’t turn around. "Go away. I already made my stance clear last time. I don’t intend to join whatever cause you’re preaching."
A laugh followed, laced with disdain. "You say that now. But when the system turns its back on you, when you see what this Republic truly stands for, you’ll come looking for us."
"I won’t. Now leave before I report you to the professors."
After a moment, the figure disappeared into the crowded corridor.
Unfortunately, not everyone shared Michael’s resolve. Many students had already aligned themselves with the Revolutionary Army.
For people born into nothing, rebellion often felt like the only way forward.
"Good morning, Professor Herschel," Michael greeted, stepping into the room and placing a cup of coffee on the professor’s desk.
"Ah, Michael. Perfect timing. Come closer."
Michael approached and took in the sight of the holographic displays filling the air. Lines of code and simulation data reflected off the professor’s glasses.
Thanks to his diligence and approachable nature, Michael had earned the respect of many within the institute.
At present, he served as an assistant to Professor Herschel, one of the leading figures in cognitive analytics and behavioral informatics, a field dedicated to quantifying morality through data.
According to Herschel’s own assessment, despite his young age, Michael’s understanding of neuro-computational systems and psychological mapping far surpassed that of his peers.
"Sit down," Herschel said, tapping a few commands on his terminal. "I’ve been reviewing your recent report on behavior assessment modeling. Remarkable work. Your design for real-time emotional indexing... it’s far more stable than the prototypes our senior division has been struggling with."
"Thank you, Professor. I just followed the variance filter adjustments we discussed last week."
"Followed it?" Herschel chuckled. "You improved it. Don’t be modest."
Michael shook his head. "It’s nothing special. I just thought if we improved the adaptive feedback between emotional input and cognitive bias parameters, the system could yield a more accurate assessment of intent."
"Intent... that’s the key word, isn’t it? Everyone can predict behavior, but predicting intent... that’s a different science altogether."
He turned the terminal toward Michael. On the screen was a working model of a neural simulation network with thousands of nodes lighting up in real time.
"This is the next phase," Herschel said. "A system designed to quantify psychological states, assess emotional stability, and determine the likelihood of criminal behavior before it manifests. In theory, it could reduce crime before it even happens."
Michael’s eyes narrowed slightly. "A preemptive justice model?"
Herschel smiled. "You could call it that. For now, it’s just a prototype. But if it works, the Republic will fund it indefinitely."
Heerschel turned the terminal toward himself. The interface scanned his vitals and neural patterns before displaying a pale yellow reading.
It meant borderline instability.
"Even psychologists could make use of this," Herschel said with enthusiasm. "It’ll revolutionize therapy. Imagine being able to pinpoint a patient’s exact emotional imbalance, knowing precisely what triggers it, and when."
Michael remained silent for a moment, then slowly picked up the terminal.
"But you know, Professor," Michael began, "forgive me for being presumptuous... I don’t think this kind of technology will ever truly redefine the world the way you expect it to."
Herschel raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And why is that?"
Without answering immediately, Michael pointed the terminal toward himself. The screen pulsed a pale white hue, meaning absolute stability.
Then, he smiled. A smile that was anything but kind.
"Because the human mind is never constant."
"...."
He handed the terminal back to Herschel. The professor glanced down at the display. The readings remained perfectly stable.
For a long moment, Herschel said nothing. He stared at the terminal again, watching the readings refuse to fluctuate.
"But that’s just my opinion as a student. You’re free to dismiss it, Professor."
Michael turned and walked toward the door, leaving the room in silence.
Herschel finally exhaled, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His hand pressed against his chest. It felt as though a knife had been pressed against him.
"That boy can be scary at times..."
It was no wonder that even the Republic wanted to covet Michael.
* * *
"Gabriel. What do you think of college girls?"
"Obnoxious."
"Would you date one?"
"Of course."
"Yes, yes. Police, I’m here to file a report."
Gabriel sighed and shook his head, choosing to ignore Julius’s joke as they walked through the university campus.
Julius’s eyes swept over the vicinity. He strolled, hands in his coat pockets, while Gabriel followed at his usual measured pace.
"They’re all so lively," Gabriel remarked after a moment. "As if the recent murders mean nothing to them. But I suppose that’s just how students are."
"Sounding like an old man right now, Gabriel."
"Because now that I’m here accompanying you in Munich, the Republic decided to give me more work."
"Those serial killings, right?" Julius asked.
Gabriel nodded.
There had been a string of gruesome murders in Munich recently. In his previous life, it had been nothing more than background noise to Julius, something he scrolled past on social media before losing interest.
But now, it was different. Now, he had ties to this city.
"Yes," Gabriel replied. "But that’s nothing for you to concern yourself with, Young Master."
"No, I’m interested. Perhaps it’ll make a good first impression once I join the Revenant Knights." He glanced at Gabriel with a smirk. "So, tell me. What’s the case about?"
Gabriel’s eyes darted around, scanning their surroundings. When he was sure no one was close enough to overhear, he leaned in and spoke in a low voice.
"A maneater."
Julius’s brows lifted. "A what?"
Gabriel nodded. "Yes. The last victim was... a woman from the entertainment district."
Julius tilted his head slightly. "A prostitute, then."
"Essentially," Gabriel said. "She was found two nights ago near the southern industrial zone in Munich. The reports say her body was ripped apart as if by something far stronger than human."
"A Glassheart..."
Gabriel shook his head. "Unconfirmed. For now, we’ve classified it as a Manticore. Could be a Glassheart, could be something else entirely. The Forensic’s still running comparisons."
As they reached their destination, they stopped by a lecture hall. Through the glass panel on the door, Julius peered inside. Sitting near the front was the person he had come to see, Michael.
"I wonder where you even find these people," Gabriel said, arms crossed. "First a psychologist, now a college student. I understand Miss Isolde, but this..."
"He’s a target for the communists."
"Hm?"
"This University is filled with them."
"Indeed."
On their way, it wasn’t hard to overhear the conversations of students preaching change. Phrases like "the Republic has failed us."
Posters plastered along the walls had slogans demanding reform, some calling for freedom, others for rebellion. It was clear the university had become a breeding ground for dissent.
It was then.
——P-Professor Herschel is...!
The shout came from further down the hall, followed by the sound of running footsteps and the rising panic of students.
Gabriel stepped in front of Julius with his arm outstretched in a protective gesture.
They hurried toward the source of the commotion. A crowd had already formed outside one of the lecture rooms. When Julius and Gabriel pushed through and looked inside, the sight that greeted them made even Gabriel freeze.
"...."
"...."
Professor Herschel was hanging from the ceiling, suspended by what looked like torn wiring and cords twisted tightly around his neck.