analyze and comment the following story
APOSTLES
By Luke De Martis
Pilot episode of the Blue Era
Dusk had become the moment of the day that best represented the Klavatrean world after the rise to power of Aedostul and the DB. The dying light that makes way for darkness and the clouds in the sky that held a part of it, while a crisp humidity whirled in the air, revealed the insecurity and trembling that all of humanity had towards the greatness of the world.

That evening the sky was covered with clouds and the wind was particularly energetic as it beat against objects. The railway line that connected the flat Atlanta and the nearby Feedotkall, both marked by intense political upheavals in recent years, seemed like a thread passing between the two urban nuclei that had not yet fully merged.

The only passing train was a relatively outdated model with light blue carriages: there were four including the locomotive. It was a government train that civilians could not access, with passengers including some members of the executive and a dozen men armed as guards. To protect them from the cold outside, there was a heating system that emitted warm breaths and a yellowish, intense light saturated with a deep lavender scent.

Benjamin Zackin managed the technologies of the northwestern side of the continent, or part of what we would call Canada. Like all present, he wore blue clothes: a shirt with many small blue and black squares and electric-style pants. He had a rather large face and well-maintained hair with noticeable green eyes, which were usually the first thing noticed about him. He simply narrowed his eyes with his hands composed and interlocked with each other. In front of him were Jancamille Daijchean and Val Konn, respectively the minister of Eros and entertainment while he was in charge of the mass media.

“It’s difficult for me to find harmony on this train. There are so many energies in motion that distract me,” Zackin whispered slowly. His voice as a young adult was slow and calm, cold and without any particular emotion.

“Still obsessed with your search for harmony, Zack?” Daijchean spoke up. Her hair was dyed reflective blue, so perfectly in order that it seemed synthetic. She was far from being fat – on the contrary, her arms and legs were rather bony – but the facial features were rounded, with a pale, whitish complexion.

“The whole nature…no, the whole universe is based on harmony and peace,” Zackin said. “The only creature discordant from this order is man.”

“We know where you’re going with this,” Daijchean interrupted him and stretched her limbs to stretch. “You sing the same tune every single day.”

In the background, sitting on the floor with his legs wide open, was Mark Lyonel, who seemed to be 25 years old but behaved like a 6-8-year-old child. In front of him, between his legs, there was a wide assortment of children’s toys, such as red cars and stylized robots. His story seemed to be called that and the details were unknown to the rest of the world. He was blond and, between maneuvers, sucked his thumb.

Mattias Hakin was sitting next to the DST technical director.

“The Apostles,” Hakin thought. “It seems that Aedostul selected them from the most weird and unusual people. But even I am not so normal.”

“Are you nervous, Matt?” the director asked him. Only then did he realize that he had a stiff, forced posture with his fists clenched.

“A little bit,” Hakin replied.

The technical director, also a man of recent times, smiled.

“We all did it in this carriage. You’re the only one missing.”

The guard was in adjacent carriages so that the present could not feel tampered with in discussing sensitive topics.

“Does it hurt?” Hakin asked after a while.

The director seemed to be trying to give him an encouraging answer.

“It’s fast. I can tell you that.”