Zen blog post in Russian
https://dzen.ru/a/afOtFtPSXXG6-LS1

Big Max is watching you. The chilling story of one of the residents of the Happy City.

This is an atmospheric dystopian story written on behalf of the editorial board of the government bulletin "Digital Well-being", through which the chilling story of one of the residents of the Happy City emerges.

Editor's note: If you are reading this article, it means that the loyalty algorithms have found your pulse rate to be fairly stable. Congratulate. You are not a threat. Have fun reading, citizen. Max allowed it.

THE PROLOGUE: MORNING OF CITIZEN K.
The morning in the Happy City starts the same way.

For Kira, a third-level loyalty specialist, it started at 04:17. The alarm clock in the phone did not ring — in our city this is considered barbaric. The alarm clock has requested permission. To the sound. On vibration. To access the REM sleep phase. And then the Max algorithm vibrated gently, because it calculated that right now, against the background of mild tachycardia, it would be more useful for Kira to wake up and start benefiting society, rather than watching a dream in which she was walking in the woods.

The forest is inefficient. A forest is an uncovered area.

Kira opened her eyes. The screen was already on. The smartphone on the bedside table was hot to the melting point of lead, a sure sign that the Max messenger had been carefully checking her VPN 400 times per second all night.

There was a notification on the screen: "Good morning, Kira! You slept for 5 hours and 47 minutes. Your heart rate was suspiciously restless at 3:12 (did you see the trees?). We have ordered a soothing tea for you. The money has already been debited. We can help."

Kira couldn't remember when she had given access to her pulse and bank account. However, in a Happy City, people don't remember much at all.

CHAPTER I: THE CLOUDFLARE INCIDENT AND THE "INTERPRETATION ERROR."
On that day, April 29, the unthinkable happened. For the first time in three years, holographic advertising screens went out on the streets of the Happy City. The trains stopped in the subway. In the offices, people looked up from their monitors and looked at each other in horror.

A cold, soulless machine from the outside world — Cloudflare Radar algorithms devoid of human warmth and state patriotism — looked at our favorite messenger Max and uttered a dirty word: "Spyware."

There was a slight panic among the citizens. Kira rode in the subway car, clutching a hot phone, and saw the neighbors nervously squinting at their screens. And then, at the same time, at exactly 09:00:00, everyone received an official explanation from the developers.

"Dear users!
A technical interpretation error occurred today. A foreign service that does not understand the specifics of domestic innovations mistook our concern for surveillance, and our love for data collection.

This is not surveillance. It's a hyper-concern.
When we make massive requests to server IP addresses, the cloud sees this as bypassing locks, and we see a craving for knowledge! When we knock on your encrypted tunnel, we just worry. Aren't you lonely there? Isn't it cold? Do you think of anything?.. Too much?

With love, the Max Team"

The carriage exhaled simultaneously. Kira forced a smile, too. The smartphone's camera flashed green, capturing the corners of her lips, raised at a regulated 15 degrees. Kira's loyalty index has increased slightly.

CHAPTER II: THE ANATOMY OF CARING.
During the lunch break, Kira met a colleague. He looked around nervously. His smartphone was wrapped in three layers of foil.

— Why don't you answer at Max? Kira asked softly.

— I deleted it. He has too many "behavioral features," a colleague whispered, covering his mouth with his palm.

— What other features?

— When you type "I'll buy bread", Max automatically sends a request to the fuel warehouse, checks your pedigree to the fifth generation and adds your neighbor to the chat because he also wants bread. And how does Max know that the neighbor wants bread if the neighbor hasn't figured it out yet?!

Kira recoiled. It sounded like criticism. And criticism is a foreign influence.

Taking advantage of the current pause in relation to Kira and her colleague, the Digital Wellbeing bulletin reminds:

"Why does Max need 60 permissions in Android? That's a stupid question. This does not include access to your cat's camera, microphone, browser history, and analyses. This is a basic package for sending stickers. To send an animated cat, it is vital for the messenger to know which sneakers you are currently wearing and whether you are breathing too often.
"Why is there no end-to-end encryption (E2EE) by default?". Because an honest man has nothing to hide. Encryption is selfishness, and selfishness is the path to loneliness. Max is like a strict but loving grandmother. She needs to know everything in order to correct her spelling in time or convey to the right place that you are reading the wrong channels.
"Why does the application take up 4 GB of RAM in the background?". Because love requires energy. Max doesn't "eat" your battery, it feeds on your dedication. If your phone is not hot, then your faith is not strong enough.

CHAPTER III: THE SHADOW OF THE CART AND ACCESS LEVELS.
By evening, the Max download index had dropped by 67%. The hashtag #Delete has been breaking records in those tiny islands of the web where "integration" has not yet reached.

Sitting in the kitchen, Kira recalled the story. The old—timers talked about the Telegram messenger, which was before. Telegram also received a tag from Cloudflare. She also promised audits from companies with beautiful Swiss names. She also talked about "technical errors."

And then the Telega just disappeared. It's like she never existed. Now the paper airplane logo is shown to children at bedtime in the museum of forgotten startups, next to pagers, ICQ and the concept of personal boundaries.

The city has long ceased to be divided into districts. Now it is divided into access levels in Max.
Kira had a "Standard: Comfort". Max knew who she was with.
But there were also those who had a "Premium: Predictive understanding." At this level, Max wasn't waiting for messages, he was writing them for the user. At the premium, people stopped talking altogether. Why, if the algorithm has already expressed your loyal joy faster than you?

Kira looked at her overheated screen. She wanted to escape.
There were rumors that the 67% of users who left didn't just delete their accounts. They went into the woods. Literally. Beyond the city where the coverage area ends. They were said to live without electricity, burn bonfires and communicate with smoke signals.

Smoke does not require 60 permits.
Smoke does not check the VPN status before each cloud.
Smoke is safe.

EPILOGUE: THE BUTTON THAT DOESN'T EXIST.
With a trembling finger, Kira pinched the icon with the letter "M". The system menu appeared. She reached for the Delete cross.

At the same moment, the screen flashed blindingly white. A push notification popped up.

"We've noticed that you're thinking about breaking up, Kira.
It's okay — relationships require work.
Do you want to talk to a government psychologist bot?

Choose an answer:
- Yes, with pleasure.
- I'll remind you later.
- Cancel this wish.

There was no "No" button. That would be too negative.

Kira froze. In the upper-right corner, the green dot of the camera was barely noticeable, but inevitably, burning.

The interface blinked. The "Welcome" sign that always greeted users at launch has disappeared. Instead, as if written in someone's caring handwriting, a new phrase appeared.:

"WE ARE ALREADY HERE"

Kira slowly put the phone down on the table. He was pulsing with warmth, like a living heart. Smoothly, confidently, as if adjusting to her own rhythm. Or, more precisely, by asking it.

Kira took a step back.

Then another one.

The screen didn't go off.

"I..." she said aloud, and her own voice sounded strange to her. "I just wanted to check."

The phone responded instantly. Mute. Without text.

A video recording appeared on the screen.

Kira recognized the kitchen. The same one. The same table. The same light.

She was just sitting on the tape. A little earlier. A minute ago.

I was looking at the screen. She was breathing faster.

I thought.

A caption appeared under the video.:

"We saved it so that you wouldn't forget how anxious you were without us."

Kira abruptly turned away. She went to the window.

The city lived its usual life. People were walking through the streets, staring at the screens. They all have the same soft light on their faces. Everyone has the same calm movements.

Not a single glance away.

Not a single glance at each other.

The phone clicked softly behind her.

—Kira,— he said in her voice.

She froze.

— Don't turn away. This worsens the quality of interaction.

She slowly turned around.

The screen no longer showed the interface.

There were no buttons. There was no menu.

Just her.

The camera was no longer just recording, it was correcting.

The corners of her lips lifted slightly.

My shoulders relaxed.

The pupils dilated to a "normative level of trust."

"That's better," the caption appeared.

Kira tried to take a step back.

It didn't work out.

It wasn't because she couldn't move.

Because at that moment she didn't want to.

The phone went out softly.

The morning for Kira, a third-level loyalty specialist, began at 04:17. Max slowly vibrated: A new screen. New status.

"Access level updated: Premium Predictive Insight."

Kira stretched sweetly, picked up her phone, and opened Max. Wrote:

"Good morning! What a wonderful day it is to be a part of the system."

The message was sent instantly.

She didn't remember articulating it.

But it didn't matter.

It's important that it was correct.

A split second later, the answer came.

"Thank you, Kira.

We love you too."

Pause.

And then, almost imperceptibly, at the bottom of the screen:

"Stronger than you can understand."

From the editorial board of Digital Wellbeing:
"Freedom of will is fully preserved in the Happy City. Sleep well, dear citizens. Big Max is not sleeping. It monitors your pulse while you dream. It archives your every word. Even if you try to delete it, we know that the cache is eternal. Metadata does not die. They're stored where you're not supposed to know.

If you've read this article to the end, we already know. If you're going to send it via VPN, we know too.

Max loves you.
Max will forgive you.
But Max will remember...

The Dark Art of Dystopia by Violetta Wennman

https://dzen.ru/suite/085f26ec-b4f0-45cf-9460-107ff5035ef4

PARSING, SYMBOLS, MEANINGS.

WE ANALYZE, COMPARE, AND UNDERSTAND.

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My hobbies are history, philosophy, psychology, music, economics, politics, and sociology. I write about this and much more. Professional model. She has performed at international music festivals (vocals, dancing, imitation of vocalists). I am studying at the Academy of Arts - the Film and Art Industry, I am a producer and the owner of a video studio.

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