Tiles and the Future

[Ascendancy]

Nikolai Brandon & Timothée de Volthström

The world outside fell under winter like a closing fist. Since the announcement of Dominance IX, the city was even more energized, and Nikolai made sure to pour fuel on that fire. The rich of the city were even richer. The future was bright. The grass was green and the sheep were flocking.

From his position at the head of the Hall of St. Andrew Nikolai watched the world’s pulse beat in light and silence. A global map flickered before him. Gold markers glowing across the dominances. Red zones blinked across the African continent, portions of the United States, and finally, China. Resistance, unrest, logistical slowdowns. But nothing was critical. Not anymore.

Behind him, Timothée de Volthstrom entered, CEO of the infamous Banque Volthström was announced by a single chime, Nikolai finished reading an update before looking up.

Texas reports 98.7% adoption of CCD-standard digital commerce. A promising sign. But signs weren’t results.

“Must be faster," he said to himself.

He didn’t speak to fill the space. Words were tools. You use them when they move something forward. Timothée stood where he was supposed to. Silent and respectful, self-sure in that French way his branch of the Volthstroms never seemed to outgrow. Even now, he dressed like a man who believed in elegance as authority. A black coat. White gloves. A priceless antique pocketwatch he hadn’t looked at once.

“You have a pitch?” Nikolai said, powering down the screen and turning to address him. The Hall was empty but for them.

Timothée inclined his head. “Yes sir. We call it Tiles.” He took a small titanium alloy Tile from his inner coat pocket - smooth, marked with something that Nikolai could barely discern.

Of course they had a name. The Volthstroms loved branding. So did Nikolai. Naming something was how you taught people to obey it. He gestured to continue.

Timothée stepped forward like a man invited to present a gift, not a tool. He was both things, really. A servant and a builder. “The CCD Dollar has served its function. It conquered through liquidity. But now it stabilizes. It equalizes. That makes it dangerous. Each Tile is programmable. Tied to identity. The value is fluid: measured against behavior, employment, and ideological integrity.”

Nikolai blinked in surprise that quickly blurred into intrigue. This was the real shape of conquest. Not bombs. Not armies. Choice, restructured. 

“Instead of one unit for all, we introduce relational worth. Two people can each hold a Tile, but only one can buy a ticket. Or medicine. Or a seat.”

“And who decides their value?” he asked.

Timothée didn’t flinch. “You do, of course. Through the systems we’ll build. Their actions will dictate the outcome.”

He liked the answer. But more importantly, he liked that Timothée understood it wasn’t his vision. He wasn’t here to pitch it. He was here to install it.

“Distribution?” Nikolai asked.

"You convert CCD Dollars 1:1 into Tiles during the transition window. After that, all previous currencies are void. Each Tile is stored in a personal wallet—called a Vein—linked to the new Global Identification Registry. Movement, transactions, and asset permissions are all filtered through the Central Lattice, which we’ll administer under… oversight.”

Nikolai felt himself itching to know more. “And enforceable?” He asked.

“Absolutely,” he said. “If someone fails to meet standard, breaks the law, owes a fine., their Vein can be suspended. Their Tiles lose power. Their permissions narrow.”

The wheels spun quickly in his mind as he stepped toward him.

He didn’t intimidate. That was too blunt. Instead, he closed distance and watched where Timothée’s eyes tracked. Not his face. The space around it. The calculation.

“How will people accept this?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

“You make it a celebration.” Timothée replied. “Tiles will feel like freedom. Customized economy. Personalized reward. They'll believe it’s a step forward.”

Nikolai nodded once. “Because we’ll show them the numbers. We’ll give them leaders who succeed. Faces that rise. And every failure will be personal, not systemic.”

Timothée’s expression shifted, ever so slightly. He understood.

The Volthstroms were always good with systems. But they needed Nikolai to give them clarity of purpose. They’d rule by algorithm. He ruled by vision.

“Build the infrastructure,” he said. “We will role this out to a select few, giving them a taste of what was to come. Set up a meeting with Myshelov to determine who exactly they will be."

“Any concern about dissent?” Timothée asked, cautious but carefully curious.

Nikolai answered, pensive. “A man who earns too few Tiles cannot afford to rebel.”