Dormant Sky E-Book

Dominik Wolf

• Herausgeber: epubli
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 170

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

Dormant Sky: "What if you believe you're seeing the sky, but even the sky is an illusion?" After the collapse of Earth, Kael Mirror lives beneath a vast dome on Mars, in the immaculate colony of Mars Unum — clean, safe and perfectly regulated. He conforms to the system. He falls in love with Solena, an educator with deep faith in Mars Unum. But when Kael begins to notice the first cracks in reality, he embarks on a dangerous path filled with doubt, betrayal, and forbidden questions. Is Mars Unum truly salvation or a cage? While micro-drones and control officers monitor every move, Kael must decide: risk the truth or preserve the illusion he has always known. What he uncovers shakes not only his own existence but the foundation of an entire civilization. And what if truth itself is not freedom? A haunting, dystopian science fiction novel about truth, deception, and the courage to look beyond the sky.

Leseprobe

Introduction

DORMANT SKY

A Novella

Edition 1

by Dominik Wolf

The events and characters in this novel are entirely fictional.

Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.

This work exists solely as an artistic exploration of social and philosophical themes and serves as a work of creative reflection.

© 2025 Dominik Wolf

All rights reserved.

This work is protected under copyright law.

Any use or reproduction without the express permission of the author is prohibited. This includes, in particular, duplication, translation, adaptation for film, and processing in electronic systems.

Cover design and artwork: Alexandra Wolf

Preface

Dormant Sky is a novel about control, truth, and the fragility of certainty. This story grew out of one question: How far would society go to protect itself, even from reality? This book is not about distant stars, but about us. It takes place in a world that feels futuristic, yet strangely familiar. A world where illusion matters more than truth. The protagonist, Kael Mirror, is not a hero in the traditional sense. He doubts. He falls. And it is precisely there that his strength and his humanity lie. The decision to seek the truth may seem noble. But the consequences? They are rarely heroic. Often painful, sometimes destructive. This book invites you to embark on that journey, not only through the domed city of Mars Unum, but also through what lies behind its facades. Between light and shadow.

Stylistic Note on the Book

Dormant Sky was deliberately written in a cinematic style - dialogue-driven, atmospheric, and dense with scenes. Each section is composed like a camera shot: detailed images, sharp cuts, and inner monologues as a voice-over. This style doesn’t just draw readers into the plot; it immerses them deeply in the world of Mars Unum. As if the novel were not only read, but experienced. Instead of long descriptions, the text works with moments, movements, and glances like a screenplay full of subtext. The result is a vivid narrative style that sparks the imagination and touches emotionally. Ideal for those who prefer to feel literature rather than study it.

Chapter I – A New Sky

Scene: Arrival Hall, Transit Station, Mars Unum

White light. Polished floors. The faint hum of machines. Everything feels sterile, almost too clean. A line of newcomers waits at a checkpoint. Holograms flicker; a synthetic voice speaks in calm monotony.

Automated Speaker: “Welcome to Mars Unum. Your past lies behind you. Your future begins now.”

Kael Mirror stood calmly in line, his expression neutral. He wore the standard gray transfer suit. In his hand, a transparent datapad displayed his name, status, and function. He was in his mid-thirties but looked older, not from wrinkles or gray hair, but from the way he walked, spoke, and kept silent. Like someone who had learned to observe more than to act, and in doing so, had seen too much. His face was narrow, angular, with sharply cut cheekbones and eyes that seemed almost too bright in the pale lighting of the dome’s corridors - gray, with a trace of blue, like cold water beneath ice. His hair was dark, cut short, precise but never vain.

Kael was not a man who drew attention, and yet something about him lingered, perhaps the quiet that surrounded him, or the way he opened space when he spoke. He listened intently, not out of duty, but out of a genuine desire to understand. He was no rebel, yet within him lived a subtle resistance against the obvious. Not loud, not storming, but like a barely audible crack in glass, spreading slowly.

A woman in line ahead of him turned and smiled.

Solena (open, curious): “First transfer?”

Kael (nodding): “Yes. And you?”

Solena: “I was part of the preliminary build. Sector 3. We stabilized the first eco-field. Now… well, now it’s all official.”

Kael: “What’s it like?”

Solena (glancing briefly upward): “Quiet. Safe. Somehow… orderly. Not like on Earth.”

Kael (softly): “That’s good.”

A scanner swept across Kael’s face. The screen blinked green.

Automated Voice: “Welcome, Kael Mirror. Your accommodation is at Habitat 12, Sector A. Monday: Work assignment begins at 08:00 standard time. For your mental well-being, a Balance Coordinator will be available. Mars Unum thanks you for your cooperation.”

Solena (with a slight grin): “Don’t worry. The Balance Coordinator just asks whether you have nightmares. And whether you can adapt.”

Kael: “I adapt quickly.”

At first glance, Solena appeared younger than she was.

Early thirties, perhaps, with something in her eyes that was hard to capture: a kind of gentle alertness, as if she could hear a hidden echo in everything. She moved with that unobtrusive elegance that had nothing to do with vanity, and everything to do with attentiveness. Her hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders - dark blond, with a golden shimmer that seemed almost alive in the sterile light of the dome. Her eyes were amber.

She spoke little about her past. It wasn’t secrecy, but rather a quiet choice.

Arriving at Habitat 12, Sector A, Kael entered his apartment. It was white, minimalist, and functional. A window looked out over the city of Mars Unum.

The streets were broad, flawlessly tiled, with a texture that suggested a carefully crafted naturalness. No cracks, no dirt, no noise, but only the faint hum of cleaning droids gliding along the edges of the walkways, as if they had never stopped. On either side stretched rows of housing modules: square units in pale, muted tones—beige, gray, a shimmer of silver. Between them ran strips of synthetic grass and neatly planted trees. The trunks were slender, the crowns perfectly round. Not a branch out of place, not a leaf fallen to the ground. Everywhere, colonists moved about in identical uniforms. Their footsteps were even, their voices subdued. No one ran, no one lingered. Everything moved without haste, like a finely tuned mechanism. On the far side of the promenade rose a pavilion of transparent material, lit softly from within. Beyond it, the park. From above, it looked like a carefully arranged image: a perfectly drawn watercourse, geometrically laid paths, and benches of clear plastic. Over it all arched the dome, almost invisible, yet always perceptible. Like a gaze that never left. The sky above was mild, tinged with red. The sun shone without warmth. Kael blinked at the light. And there, small as a marble, the Earth appeared in the window. Just a tiny blue dot. He sat down on the edge of the bed and drew a deep breath.

Kael (inner monologue): “No noise. No waste. No poisoned air. Everything controlled. Everything… right.”

(A faint hum. Incoming message.)

Solena (message): “Once you’ve settled in, coffee at the observation deck? – S.”

Kael looked at the display. Hesitated. Then typed back.

Kael (message): “Tomorrow, 10:00. Sounds good.”

He turned his gaze back to the window. The sky seemed too perfect, and along its upper edge a faint, barely visible shimmer stretched.

Kael (inner monologue): “Maybe… this is simply progress. Maybe it’s real.”

Slowly, dusk began to fall. The gray, pale curtains cast faint shadows across the cold gray floor. Kael lay in his sleeping module. Outside, everything was calm, the steady hum of the air systems filling the silence.

Inside, though, something else stirred. His sleep was restless, and when he finally drifted off, he was seized by a nightmare.

Kael’s Dream - Yellow smog hangs over the ruins of cities. Sirens wail. People in masks run through shattered streets. Kael is shoved into a bus, crammed together with hundreds of others. The air reeks of metal, fear, and sweat.

Soldier: “Faster! Get in! No arguments!”

A child cries. A woman screams that she has lost her husband. Kael looks out the filthy bus window and remembers that weeks, months there had already been talk of air pollution, toxic rainfall, and a collapsing ecosystem. Now it had become a bitter reality. The bus moves, endlessly. Then another camp, a high-security zone, with tall fences and guards. Kael sees containers where people are examined - measurements, voices, commands. Then the rocket silos. One last glance at the gray sky, a sky that would never be blue again. Arriving in the security zone, a loud announcement blares.

Announcement: “For your safety, you will be sedated before launch. Please line up in order.”

The line grows shorter and shorter, but the fear and unrest within him only grow stronger. Then a doctor.

Doctor: “Next. Arm out. Quickly now, we’re out of time!”

He screams, but the injection takes hold. Darkness.

Kael jolted awake, gasping for breath. The fabric of his sleep shirt clung to his back, drenched in sweat, and his heart pounded in his chest. He sat up, pressed his hand to his forehead. The room was quiet again - too quiet. Mars Unum: clean, cool, perfect. And yet the stench of Earth’s decay still seemed to cling to his lungs.

Kael (inner monologue): “We fled. Not by choice. Not out of hope, but out of fear.”

He rose, went to the wash module, let cold water run over his hands, and stared into the mirror, but the gaze that looked back felt foreign.

Kael (whispering): “Will I ever forget…?”

Red morning light streamed through the window. As always, the familiar voice of the speaker returned.

System Voice: “Mars Unum - your past lies behind you. Your future begins now.”

Kael stretched out in the bed module. Behind him lay a restless night. He looked into the mirror and his face half in light, half in shadow.

Kael (inner monologue): “But what if the past has already caught up with us and no one notices?”

Scene: Sector A, Observation Deck, Morning

Soft electronic music played in the background. The observation deck rose high above the residential sectors. Wide panes of glass revealed the reddish sky and the vast, smooth dunes. Kael was already seated at one of the tables, two cups before him. Solena approached quietly.

Solena: “You’re punctual.”

Kael (looking up): “So are you.”

Solena (sitting down, gazing through the glass): “I like it here. The calm. The view. As if… finally above it all.”

Kael: “As if nothing bad could ever happen again.”

Solena (looking at him): “You don’t really believe that do you?”

Kael (hesitating briefly): “I’m careful with belief.”

She sipped her coffee, set the cup down. The smell was artificial, yet pleasant.

Solena: “Most newcomers are either completely thrilled or utterly overwhelmed. You’re somewhere… in between.”

Kael: “I’m a mechanic. I prefer to see how things work before I judge. At least, that’s what I was on Earth.”

Solena (with a slight grin): “And? Does everything work?”

Kael (looking out again, then quietly): “It works too well.”

A brief silence. The lighting dimmed softly. Then he added.

Kael: “You know, sometimes I wonder… if we were truly saved. Or just ‘repackaged.’”

Solena (surprised): “That doesn’t sound like the official line.”

Kael (with a faint smile, but serious): “I think a lot. Speaking those thoughts out loud isn’t always welcome here… at least that’s what I once gathered from the radio.”

A glance between them. Open, questioning, yet cautious.

Solena: “What did you leave behind on Earth?”

Kael (after a short pause): “Nothing that would have missed me.”

Solena: “Then you’re lucky.”

She turned back toward the view. The sky glowed with a gentle red. A soft wind animation drifted across the landscape. Everything seemed perfect.

Solena (adding): “Maybe this is our second chance.”

Kael (countering with humor): “Or our first simulation.”

They both laughed. A moment of genuine closeness. Then silence again.

Kael: “I’m glad I’m here with you.”

Solena (gently): “I feel the same.”

Kael: “That sounds like a repeat.”

Solena (without much hesitation): “Yes, gladly! There’s an initiation ceremony tomorrow, like they announced it this morning.”

Kael: “Perfect. Then I’ll see you there.”

Solena (softly): “Certainly.”

A brief silence lingered between them, then Solena rose, smiled at Kael, and left the room. She walked with slow yet steady steps. Kael felt a moment of peace, quiet, almost guilty. For deep within, he knew something terrible had happened. And yet there was this faint sense of relief, as if something inside him had loosened, something that had remained unspoken for far too long.

Kael (inner monologue): “Not long ago we were all still on Earth, and surely so many people remain there, if they’re still alive. But Solena… she’s a welcome distraction for me.”

The next day, Kael received an invitation to the grand induction ceremony in the central dome, a mandatory event for all new colonists. The hall was imposing. Massive glass panels arched overhead, displaying the reddish-orange sky. Hundreds of colonists stood in orderly rows. Drones drifted silently above their heads, recording. At the far end of the hall stood a podium, framed in gold. Then he entered the stage. Draven Lior.

Tall, upright, with sharply cut features. Silver-gray hair and black attire. Simple, yet expensive. His calm, resonant voice carried through the speakers with absolute control.

Draven: “When I saw our world begin to die, I knew: we did not need heroes. We needed solutions. Mars Unum was my answer.”

Kael (inner monologue): “I remember him from back then, on television. The tech magnate who supposedly built the first private evacuation. The only one who had not just the money, but a plan.”

Draven (continuing): “You are all here because you were the best humanity still had to offer. You are the hope. The seed of a new civilization. And I promise you: here there will be no decay. No disorder. No second Earth.”

The applause was deafening. Many cheered. Some even wept. Kael remained silent.

“What happened on Earth must never happen again. History must not be allowed to repeat itself! Therefore…”

(Draven paused.)

“Therefore, certain rules must be upheld. Rules that safeguard our existence. The UCR - Unified Colony Regulation states the following: conspiracy thinking is a disease, rebellion is a disease, and resistance is a disease. We will not allow ourselves to be infected. Any infected must be ‘relocated.’ Surely you have noticed the tall fences surrounding us. These were built to ensure that no one enters radioactive zones. And do not forget: your past lies behind you. Your future begins now.”

With that, Draven left the podium.

Kael (inner monologue): “Charismatic. Convincing. A man who seems like a savior. But I’ve learned that the greatest promises are often the most dangerous.”

Solena stepped beside him. She clapped, but softly. Her eyes stayed fixed on Draven probing. Or admiring? After the induction ceremony, Kael and Solena strolled along the promenade. The path was lined with holographic billboards displaying slogans from Draven and the UCR:

“Order is life. Disorder is death.”

“Mars Unum is hope. Mars Unum is home.”

“Rumors are the beginning of the end.”

Kael: “He’s everywhere. Almost like a dictator.”

Solena (with quiet fascination): “He saved us. Without him there would be no Mars Unum. No structure. No life.”

Kael (hesitant): “Or no choice.”

Solena stopped, looking at him intently.

Solena: “You don’t know how close we came to extinction. I was there during the evacuation. The sky was black. The air burned. If Draven hadn’t acted…”

Kael (inner monologue): She speaks with firm conviction. To her, he is not just a leader, he is an answer.

Kael: “But why didn’t he save everyone? Why only a fraction?”

Solena: “Because he couldn’t. Because not everyone wanted to board. Or could.”

Kael: “Or because he decided who was worthy.”

Silence. Only the hum of the lamps above them.

Solena (coldly): “You think too much. Here, only the now matters.”

Scene: Habitat 12, Kael’s apartment, late afternoon

Kael leans against the wall, gazing through the small window into the dusk. A sentence flickers holographically across the wall, automatically displayed:

“Mars Unum – The future has a face.”

(Draven Lior’s face)

Kael (inner monologue): “And what if the future is only a prison with a prettier view?”

The next day, Kael stands on a slope near the artificial botany corridor. Red sunlight filters through the vast window. In the background, drones hum softly over the ground. He thinks of Solena, her steady optimism, her faith in the good, and that unmistakably gentle presence. Without intending to, a smile comes to him.

Kael (inner monologue): “It has grown quiet inside me. No broadcasts. No fear that someone might collapse outside because the air is too toxic. No panic, no protests, no noise.”

He sleeps better. He laughs more. He thinks less of before. Even the constant scratch in his throat is gone.

Kael (inner monologue): “Maybe this is what peace feels like. Maybe I had just forgotten.”

The system’s voice continues, calm and pleasant:

“Mars Unum - for your safety. For your future.”

And for the first time, Kael almost believes it.

Later, Kael meets Solena again in a small restaurant sector. Soft light, synthetic wine, projections of old star maps across the ceiling. Their laughter mingles with the muted voices of other colonists. They talk about the past, about favorite colors, about music that once existed. About nothing, and about everything.

Kael (inner monologue): “Maybe… maybe this isn’t so wrong. Maybe you don’t always have to fight. Maybe you can just begin - again.”

Chapter II – The Second Chance

Scene: Employment Office, Sector 4, Morning

A bright corridor. White, sterile, without shadows. The light came from everywhere and nowhere. Kael stood in front of a pane of glass, behind which nothing moved, only a screen.

Loudspeaker: “Welcome to the Employment Office of the UCR. Please identify yourself.”

He placed his palm on the sensor field. The machine hummed softly. Then his name appeared.

Kael Mirror.

Status: Assigned / Status: Work-ready

The screen flickered. Then a face appeared, artificial, but friendly. A woman of middle age, brown hair, a gentle smile. The voice was too even to be real.

Screen: “Kael Mirror. Welcome to Mars Unum. We are pleased you are part of our future. Your competencies are being analyzed… one moment, please…”

Kael glanced around. The room was empty. No chairs. No sound. The walls seemed too smooth, as if they were built from light.

Screen: “Analysis complete. Manual and language-based skills detected. Technical training: sufficient. Social stability: high. Reaction time: within normative range.”

(He blinked.)

Screen: “Recommended position: Service Mechanic for Habitats 12 through 17. Department: Maintenance. Duties: upkeep, diagnostics, and social interaction with residents in case of system malfunctions. Freelance.”

Kael (hesitant): “Is there a choice?”

The artificial woman tilted her head.

Screen: “Efficiency begins with adaptation. Your competencies align optimally with the assigned occupation. No selection is provided, but there will be an evaluation after six months.”

(He wanted to say something. He didn’t. Only a nod.)

Screen: “Thank you. Your first work script will be sent to your datapad. Your uniform is available in Supply Shaft 4. Welcome to the workforce, Kael Mirror.”

The screen went dark. The door slid open, and outside the corridor was once again white and silent. He stepped out, and the camera on the ceiling rotated slightly to follow him.

On his datapad, Kael now saw his tasks. A kind of “to-do list”:

1.Habitat 12, Living Unit 14 “Inspect door for durability”

2.Habitat 12, Living Unit 31 “Connect washing apparatus”

3.Habitats 13–17, Stairwell „Install floor numbers“

4.Check messages periodically for resident requests

Kael set off toward his first assignment.

Scene: Central Park, City Center, Noon

A park. Or what passed for one here. The trees stood at perfect intervals. Their branches did not move, for there was no wind. The grass was flawless. The stream running through the middle was a silent ribbon of recycled water.