Politics
Governance in Nimbus is overseen by the Shinsei Council (神聖会議), a theocratic technocracy composed of six Elders and one Tenshō (Heavenly Light), a figure elected once every century through a ritual known as The Calling of the Crown. These rulers are seen as conduits of Shinju’s will by many, believed to interpret divine messages during Kōkai shifts. They wield both spiritual and technological power, acting as gatekeepers for all energy, resources, and knowledge harvested from Shinju. Quarterly, two Ne-no-Mori Envoys attend, though whispers of data-gates and suppressed reports strain trust.
“They invited our voices but shadows linger where data once flowed free.” — Hoshi, Envoy-in-Training
Ne-no-Mori:
Ne-no-Mori has no unified governance and no systems that are set up are ever seen as legitimate in the eyes of Nimbus. Instead, it is a fragmented mesh of local district coalitions, techlords, syndicates, and survivalist communes. Most districts still abide by the decrees from Nimbus, enforced by diplomats who are part-priest, part-tax-collector. Others rebel entirely, forming resistance networks that usually believe in direct communion with Shinju and seek to sever dependency on the Nimbus. Governance here is pragmatic, often built on charisma, fear, or mutual survival.
The Shift
Every 12 hours, Yume transitions between the Seikai (Material Plane) and Kōkai (the Spiritual Plane). These are not symbolic states—reality shifts physically and metaphysically. It is always nighttime in Seikai and daytime in Kōkai.
Night:
The city of Yume is thousands of years old and home to billions, it is, quite literally, layers of city stacked over and over again for millennia as the waters of the world slowly rise. At night (Seikai), the city is bathed in neon lights that reflect off frequent rains. Ne-no-Mori is most active during this part of Yume’s cycle: factories run, transit flows, and people plug into the System via neural jacks or fiber-tendril terminals. Dream-spores peak now, making cyber-immersion intoxicating.
“In the neon haze, you either plug in or fade out.” — Cobalt, Glowborn Scout
Day: In Kōkai, the world enters a state of transformation. Technology operates on different principles: data becomes light, the world is flooded with magical energy, stored within the World Tree, life blooms in minutes—plant life of every kind rushes to cover the city in bark and leaf and flower.
Life and Technology
In Nimbus:
Life is pristine and ritualized. Automation handles most manual labor, freeing citizens for study, devotion, and aesthetics. Citizens wear flowing techno-silks that shift color based on biometric mood data. Artificial light grows food in suspended orchards and nutrient clouds. Everyone is connected to private nodes of the Soular-array, a network of soul-attuned Artificial Intelligences that offer companionship, moral guidance, and schedule tracking—like a spiritual therapist and digital assistant in one.
In Ne-no-Mori:
Ne-no-Mori is a glowing sprawl of towers, jungle-wired streets, and neon-lit canals. Technology is scavenged, fused, and homegrown. Root-homes merge living bark with energy frameworks. Neon stalls hawk spore-infused jacks, while small sanctuaries offer refuge. Bioluminescent myco-farms feed entire districts. Cybernetic implants are often DIY, powered by pirated energy from the light cables above. People use toji-cards, plastic prisms encoded with moving light images, as ID or currency. Daily life is a constant hustle: fixing machines, warding off syndicates, trading dreams, and surviving the floods of Winter. And that is just those that are out and about, many, maybe most, simply plug straight into the System, spending years at a time in complete solitude, completely avoiding the harsh outside world for the digital one.
“They say night is freedom, but in Sunhaven we guard the seed-silo—last beacon of pure growth.” — Tara, Dawnseeker Gardener