# Nancy part 1
Nancy's Productions
A Tale of Synthetic Empires and Broken Innocence
---
In a realm far from reality, there rose a nation from the ashes of war. Its name—Lunaria—once bathed in blood, now glistened in gold. After decades of destruction, Lunaria rebuilt itself not with compassion but commerce. It became the cradle of cold capitalism, turning from steel-forged weapons to silicon-driven dreams. The war machines rusted, and the weapon lords turned to a new battlefield—childhood.
Toys, candies, holographic cartoons, and emotional marketing danced across sky-screens. A culture of coupling was encouraged—families were national treasures, and newborns became investments. Children, now currency, were shaped not by love, but design.
Then came Nancy's Productions—a company no one knew, but soon everyone feared. They offered a miracle powder, a substitute for breastmilk. Just a pinch in water, and your child would be "smarter, stronger, and superior." Ads blasted across Lunaria: ⬅➡⬆⬇↗↘↙↖—symbols of progress, they claimed.
The nation drank the lie.
Cartoons of chubby babies flying through galaxies, fed only Nancy's powder, enchanted the children. Mothers were told they were "modern" for avoiding traditional feeding. Doctors, once defenders of health, fell one by one to bribes and contracts. "Certified healthy!" they shouted on giant screens, while behind doors, whispers of malnutrition, stunted growth, and sterile wombs echoed.
But truth cannot rot forever.
Dr. William Sandsmith, an aging healer with nothing but honor in his pocket, rose with fury. He exposed the decay in Nancy's science. He conducted trials, hundreds of infants fed only natural milk. They grew stronger, sharper, healthier.
The nation began to hope.
But the night before the judgment… they died—all 300 children. Poisoned. Their glucose corrupted. Cameras caught a man in a black hat fleeing the lab. Nancy's lawyers acted fast: a scapegoat confessed. "Did it for fun," he smirked.
The court wept, but could not condemn.
Nancy's Productions won again. Their powders filled with neuro-enhancers and chemical simulants made children speak early, calculate faster, but at a dark cost—autism, psychosis, sterility.
Dr. William faded. His eyes never stopped watching, even as he lay dying, whispering:
"The nation has sold its soul for synthetic innocence."
---
Years passed. Lunaria's skyline glowed. But beneath the neon, horror festered.
Then came Madame Rosaline Rosemary.
Just 23. A royal lady who wore no crown but ruled every heart. She rose not from palace halls, but from the ashes of William's cause. She outlawed dowry, prostitution, gambling, and superstitions. She closed three Nancy factories, unafraid, untouched by bribes.
The people adored her.
She was not just a leader—she was a rebirth.
Then came a case: a child, six years old, died. Cancer. Cause? Nancy Powder. The evidence was airtight. Rosaline stormed the court with documents, witnesses, data trails. Lunaria gasped.
Nancy trembled.
But monsters never fall alone.
Nancy's board allied with extremist cults, believing no woman should lead. They screamed that Rosaline blasphemed God.
One morning, as Rosaline walked to court, a religious parade turned riot. The extremists ambushed her. They stripped her, beat her, and burned her alive before the very people who once knelt before her.
She never screamed.
As flames devoured her, her final look was peace. She believed in justice beyond death.
The people wept. A deity murdered in daylight. Rosaline's ashes scattered across Lunaria's synthetic winds.
Nancy's Productions rose again. New products. New lies. No enemies.
But in every home, a child now stares silently… sterile, thin, silent… and somewhere, a voice whispers:
"Is this the end… or the beginning of something worse?"
---
End of Chapter 1: The Synthetic Empire
—To be continued…
---