Meanwhile, in another alternate universe…

“You know, shipping it from Tonga is kinda gross. It’s kinda decadent. It’s kinda obscene.”

Our hero was, of course, talking about the drink of the aesthetic generation—Tonga Water. Bottled in Tonga and then shipped, at great cost to the environment, to the United Colonies of Ameriga.

“But,” whined the hero’s companion, “I really like the bottle.” The companion leaned close, whispering directly into the ear canal, “it’s just my tap water, I re-filled an old bottle.” As the companion pulled away, he winked. “Fake it till you make it.”

The hero scoffed. “So, when you make it,” he hushed back, “you’re going to buy endless supplies of Tonga Water?” Obliged by his status as a hero, he just had to disapprove. But, the truth was, like the rest of the aesthetic generation, nihilism had him by the toe.

“Look, forget it,” snapped the under fire sidekick.

“You’re right. We’ve got some fellas to take care of before they pull the rug out from under the UCA position.”

Sure, their universe had fancy commodities like Tonga Water, but a shadow war was being waged in the ancient transcontinental train tunnels.

The tunnels had become a vaguely humanitarian solution to warring states. Nations could test their military might underground. Thereby, resolving any territorial disputes without damaging the overworld (or incurring civilian casualties). The latter was spin, the former was the true objective.

The 23rd Century’s infrastructure was super duper valuable, you see.