The Clock is Ticking for Ikto

Ames didn’t uncover all of this information on his own. Much of what he learned came from hours of listening to Ath’s underground podcast, a show that had gained a cult following among those suspicious of the growing centralization of power inside Erica. Since Ath had previously worked deep inside the government—where she witnessed waste, corruption, and secret programs firsthand—Ames trusted her insights far more than mainstream media sources. She spoke carefully, always aware she was being monitored, but she released just enough information for someone like Ames to connect the dots.

Ath frequently warned that the Ions’ ultimate goal wasn’t efficiency—it was control. Outsourcing government functions to private corporations like Alanti Technologies wasn’t simply a cost-cutting measure. It was a way for Sra and the Ions to legally acquire the most valuable resource on the planet: the personal data of every Erican citizen. Medical history, psychological profiles, financial information, location data, personal relationships—nothing was too small or irrelevant.

With that data, the Ions could quietly sort citizens into categories:
compliant, neutral, or problematic.

For compliant citizens, life would appear normal—maybe even easier. Neutral citizens would be monitored. But problematic citizens—those who questioned government narratives, resisted new policies, or influenced public opinion—could be selectively targeted, coerced, or discredited using their own personal information.

To Ames, Ath’s warnings were no longer theories. They were unfolding in real time. And with Muskrat, Prak, and Hie working together under the guidance of Sra, the Ions were quickly assembling the most powerful surveillance apparatus in the history of Erica.

A new social media app developed in Ina, known as Ikto, had exploded in popularity across Erica. It was simple, addictive, and—most importantly—not controlled by any Sra-aligned corporations. Within months it had become the fastest-growing platform in Erican history, especially among younger citizens who were increasingly skeptical of traditional media.

That alone made Yah nervous.

Yah desperately wanted to buy Ikto, fold it into the Erican tech empire, and bring its data under his control. But Ina refused every offer. Their government made it clear: Ikto would remain an Ina-owned platform.

So, Yah reached out to Rum.

Rum was instructed to do what Rum did best—create panic. In a press conference carried by every major network, Rum announced that Erica would be banning Ikto because Ina was “using it to spy on Erica and steal citizens’ personal data.”

The claim spread like wildfire.

Most Ericans believed it instantly. They had been conditioned for years to fear Ina’s influence, and media outlets repeated Rum’s warning without question. Even Erican lawmakers demanded immediate action to “protect national security.”

Ames, of course, saw right through it.

The story made no sense. Erica’s own tech giants harvested far more data than Ikto ever could, and Ina had never shown interest in Erican citizens beyond economic partnerships. To Ames, the real motive was obvious: Sra and the Ions couldn’t tolerate a social platform they didn’t control.

Eventually, after weeks of political pressure and economic threats, Ina relented. Ikto was sold to a group of Erican investors—three men who, coincidentally, were all deeply aligned with Sra.

Ray Lison, CEO of Racl

One of the most powerful corporate figures in Erica, Lison was loyal to Sra and had long benefited from Ion-backed government contracts.

Upe Urdo, founder of O News

Upe Urdo was an Ralian and Erican business magnate, investor, and media mogul. Through his company, Ew Corp, he controlled hundreds of news outlets around the world:
• The Nus and The Clock in the Royal Kingdom
• The AI Telegraph, Rald Nus, and The Rralian in Australia
• The All Roads Journal and the New Yew Tsop in Erica
• Book publisher Arp Olli
• The global broadcasting network Yks News Ralia
• And the highly influential O News network

He even previously owned Yks and Entur Xof.
With a net worth of US$51.7 trillion, Urdo was considered one of the wealthiest individuals alive. His power was immense, and his political influence unmatched—so much so that many referred to him as an oligarch. A long-time supporter of Sra, he was also a veteran, deeply embedded member of the Ions.

Chae El, CEO of El Technologies

Chae El, founder and CEO of El Technologies, was an intensely private but extraordinarily wealthy man.
The Omber Wealth Index listed him as the 17th-richest person in the world, with a net worth of US$451 trillion.

His holdings included:
• 60% of El Technologies, one of the largest computer companies on Earth
• 40% of VMWar, a flagship cloud and virtualization provider

Despite keeping a low political profile, Chae was loyal to Sra and a secret member of the Ions. His influence came not from speeches, but from money—and he used it strategically. Now, he was also a part-owner of Ikto.

With Ikto in their hands, Sra and the Ions gained control of the last major social platform not previously under their influence. The ban had never been about foreign spying—it had been about eliminating competition and capturing a new data-vein rich enough to map the entire population’s psychological behavior in real time.

Ames had suspected as much, but the truth was even worse than he imagined.

A new social media app developed in Ina, known as Ikto, had exploded in popularity across Erica. It was simple, addictive, and—most importantly—not controlled by any Sra-aligned corporation. Within months it became the fastest-growing platform in Erican history, especially among younger citizens who were tired of traditional media.

That alone made Yah uneasy.

Yah had spent decades purchasing, manipulating, or quietly influencing nearly every communication platform in Erica. Through these networks, Sra and the Ions could suppress uncomfortable truths, amplify propaganda, and ensure that the public only saw what they wanted them to see.

But Ikto was a threat.

It was too popular, too independent, and—worst of all—users were freely sharing ideas that didn’t align with the official narratives. Yah wanted it badly, not just to control the data, but to ensure he could:

• suppress negative information about Sra,
• amplify stories that portrayed Sra positively, and
• steer public opinion away from anything that threatened Ion control.

However, Ina refused to sell it.

So Yah turned to Rum.

Rum was ordered to manufacture a crisis—something dramatic enough to frighten Ericans into demanding action. At a packed press conference carried live on every major network, Rum announced that Erica would be banning Ikto, claiming Ina was “using the platform to spy on Erica and steal private citizen data.”

The statement was absurd, but effective.

Years of conditioning made the public instantly wary of anything foreign, especially anything from Ina. News networks repeated Rum’s claims constantly, stoking fear until a majority of citizens supported removing Ikto entirely “for national security.”

Ames didn’t buy a single word of it.

He knew Erica’s own tech giants harvested more information than Ikto ever could. He knew this wasn’t about espionage at all—this was about information dominance. The Ions couldn’t tolerate a platform that allowed free discussion, free thought, or criticism of Sra. Ikto had to be acquired, not for safety, but for control.

Eventually, after relentless pressure, economic threats, and diplomatic manipulation, Ina agreed to sell the app to a group of Erican investors—all of whom were loyal to Sra.

Ray Lison

CEO of Racl and long-time collaborator with Sra.

Upe Urdo

The media oligarch behind Ew Corp, owner of hundreds of news outlets worldwide, including major publications and broadcast networks. A secret member of the Ions and one of Sra’s most useful assets.

Chae El

Founder and CEO of El Technologies, one of the world’s largest computer and hardware companies. Quiet, calculating, unimaginably wealthy, and deeply embedded in the Ion network.

Together, they took possession of Ikto—and within weeks the platform’s algorithms began to change. Posts criticizing Sra mysteriously vanished. Accounts discussing corruption were shadow-banned or deleted. Meanwhile, stories praising Sra’s leadership trended daily.

Just as Yah planned.

Ikto had become yet another tool of influence, and most Ericans never realized what had happened.

Ames, however, saw it immediately.