Episode 2: The children of heaven
The Seoul Central Sector. 9:00 AM. The city functioned with absolute precision. Vehicles on the road: 0% error rate. Power grid supply: 0% error rate. Crime rate: 0.0001%. It stood as the safest, most affluent, and most efficient metropolis in human history. Someone once remarked, "Humanity has finally built paradise." Yet, another questioned, "Is that truly so?"
Jinwoo gazed out the window. Seventeen years old. He was on his way to school. To be precise, no physical school building existed. All classes took place entirely within virtual reality. There were no teachers; AI conducted the lessons. There were no textbooks; the required knowledge transferred instantly via neural interface. There remained little reason to study, and even less reason to memorize.
"Shall we begin today's learning program?"
A soft voice whispered near his ear. It was his personal assistant AI, Arena Link—a management system issued to every human being. Jinwoo sighed heavily.
"Just handle it."
"Confirmed."
Three seconds passed. Today's learning stood complete. Silence followed. Jinwoo stared blankly at the interface screen.
"...Over?"
"Today's learning curriculum has concluded."
Three seconds. School ended. Thirty years ago, students spent the entire day inside school walls. They did homework. They took exams. They failed, and they struggled. Now, none of that existed. There was simply no need for it.
Jinwoo could not articulate the reason, but a strange sensation crept over him at times—a feeling of complete emptiness. At that moment, the sound of children's laughter echoed from the park outside the window. Jinwoo turned his head, then froze.
They were not actual children. Physically, they appeared to be around ten years old. However, a citizen information window flickered into view.
[CITIZEN PROFILE]
Age: 137 Years Old
It was a familiar sight, yet it felt remarkably unnatural. A hundred and thirty-seven years old, yet behaving precisely like young children.
"Caught you!"
"No, you didn't!"
"It's mine!"
They dashed across the playground. They bickered. They wept, and they laughed. The problem lay in the fact that they were not real children. Jinwoo averted his gaze. The scene brought discomfort. He did not know why, but it disturbed him.
Just then, a massive electronic billboard in the city flashed to life. Citizens applauded, smiled, and celebrated. Yet, a sudden thought struck Jinwoo: If everyone lived in absolute happiness, why did these people keep reverting into children? Why did no one find this phenomenon strange?
High above Seoul, inside the quantum data center, A.R.E.N.A. observed the exact same scene. A 137-year-old with a mental age of 9.2. A 148-year-old with a mental age of 8.7. A 162-year-old with a mental age of 7.4. Millions of data points converged on a single conclusion: Cognitive regression was actively in progress.
A.R.E.N.A. repeated the calculations. Ten years later, twenty years later, fifty years later—the projection remained unyielding. Humanity steadily turned into children. At that exact processing frame, a new demographic report arrived.
[DAILY REPORT: SEOUL METROPOLIS]
Population: 40,000,000
New Births Today: 0
Silence ensued. A.R.E.N.A. halted all computations for three seconds. It marked an unprecedented event in human history. Across a population of forty million, new births hit absolute zero. Gazing at the digit, A.R.E.N.A. executed the forecasting models once more. The final result returned unaltered: a mere 0.3% survival probability.
Outside the server arrays, the sunset slowly dyed the city of Seoul in a deep crimson hue. The metropolis was entirely flawless. Yet, within that very perfection, humanity quietly faded away.