The Electric World War

Eleanor was checking her email when she first noticed it. A slight pause before her message sent, a microsecond longer than usual. *They're watching*, she thought, remembering the Reddit thread she'd found last night about the Electric World War.

According to u/DigitalResistance426, intelligence agencies worldwide had constructed an elaborate digital simulation to rebalance global power structures into a "multipolar technocratic state." Ordinary citizens' online behaviors were being monitored and scored as part of this shadow conflict, with real geopolitical consequences hanging in the balance.

"Did you see that new firmware update?" Ted whispered over his cubicle wall, eyes darting nervously around the office. "It asked for microphone permissions. In a *calculator app*."

Eleanor nodded gravely. They both knew what it meant.

By lunchtime, Eleanor had joined three different Signal groups dedicated to monitoring the Electric World War. In one, someone claimed to have identified an "operative" at the local grocery store—a middle-aged woman in a blue raincoat who spent "suspicious" amounts of time examining avocados.

"High-value target confirmed," wrote someone named CyberSentinel88. "Her shopping patterns indicate Nordic intelligence training. Second-level clearance at minimum."

Within hours, Eleanor found herself driving to Whole Foods, heart racing. She spotted the woman in the produce section, methodically selecting lemons while talking quietly on her phone.

"I'm just saying the recipe calls for Meyer lemons, not regular ones," the woman was saying. *Brilliant code talk*, Eleanor thought. She strategically positioned her cart nearby and began taking photos of bananas with her phone.

---

Across town, Harold was livestreaming from his car to sixty-five viewers on a Discord server called "Electric War Reconnaissance."

"You see that white van?" he whispered intensely. "Parked there all morning. Driver appears to be reading a newspaper, but we know better."

The van belonged to Gary Thompson, a plumber on his lunch break, enjoying a turkey sandwich and the sports section.

Harold's Discord lit up:

**TechnoWarrior:** *classic surveillance posture*  

**REDpillBlue2:** *watch for satellite uplinks*  

**FreeThinker452:** *i bet he's monitoring the cell tower across the street*

Gary was actually thinking about whether the Mets might finally have a decent season.

---

The Electric World War theory spread across platforms faster than platform moderators could track it. A TikTok user gained three million views by demonstrating "counter-surveillance techniques" for grocery shopping, which mainly involved walking backward in certain aisles and taking photos of random products.

A Twitter post went viral claiming that certain emojis in corporate social media posts were actually signals about imminent currency manipulations. Fortune 500 social media managers found themselves bewildered by thousands of replies analyzing their use of the sunglasses emoji in ways they never intended.

---

Melissa Lee, an accountant on her day off, had no idea why people at the mall were behaving so strangely around her. 

First, there was the teenager who kept pretending to tie his shoe whenever she looked his way. Then the older gentleman who seemed to be narrating her movements into his smartwatch. Now a woman in sunglasses was deliberately bumping into her while apologizing in what sounded like poorly-practiced Morse code.

"Sorry-sorry-sorry-sorry-long-sorry-sorry-long-sorry-long-sorry," the woman said, tapping Melissa's arm with each syllable.

Melissa just wanted to buy a birthday present for her niece.

---

On social media, self-proclaimed "Electric War analysts" created elaborate maps showing how global power was supposedly shifting based on internet outages and fluctuations in cryptocurrency values. They pointed to temporary AWS service disruptions as evidence of "digital territorial annexation" and interpreted routine server maintenance as "tactical retreats."

Eleanor was now attending twice-daily Zoom briefings on Electric War developments. She had rearranged her entire schedule to shop at Whole Foods whenever the "operative" was there, performing increasingly elaborate routines she believed would signal her allegiance to the right side of history.

"It's all about establishing digital sovereignty," explained the Zoom host, a 22-year-old former business major who now went by "Commander Override." "We're fighting for the future governance model of human civilization."

Eleanor nodded seriously as she ordered tactical-looking fingerless gloves from Amazon.

---

Three months later, Eleanor ran into Ted at a coffee shop.

"Are you still following the... you know?" she asked, voice low.

Ted looked embarrassed. "My therapist thinks it might have been mass hysteria, actually. Turns out that woman in the blue coat was just a food blogger with a lemon tree at home."

Eleanor laughed nervously. "I mean, I always had my doubts."

That night, she quietly archived her Electric War Signal groups and deleted her reconnaissance photos. She felt a strange mixture of embarrassment and relief.

---

By summer, the Electric World War had faded from social consciousness, replaced by debates about a celebrity scandal and a new viral dance challenge. No geopolitical order had been restructured. No technocratic state had emerged.

The world's intelligence agencies continued their actual work, mystified by the three-month period when thousands of citizens had suddenly started behaving bizarrely in grocery stores and taking photos of random electrical infrastructure.

And somewhere, a food blogger remained blissfully unaware that her quest for the perfect lemon had briefly made her the focal point of an imaginary global conflict.

*The End*