Dystopian future cityscape with dark atmospheric lighting representing The SuperUnknowN universe
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Presents

The

SuperUnkowN

A dystopian science-fiction saga exploring consciousness, identity, and the soul in a world where technology has learned to copy everything—except what makes us human.

Volume 1 Coming Fall 2026
Socrates Johnson - Author, Oxford Philosophy Graduate, and U.S. Army Veteran
University of Oxford - Where the author studied philosophy
Fenway Park - Home of the Boston Red Sox with the Green Monster

50+

Years in Development

Socrates Johnson signature

About The Author

Socrates Johnson is the pen name of an American writer whose work sits at the intersection of philosophy, literature, and speculative fiction. The pseudonym, inspired by a formative encounter with philosophy through a favorite film from the 1980s, gestures toward the Socratic tradition of inquiry: one grounded not in doctrine or written treatise, but in questioning, dialogue, and examination.

While Socrates himself left nothing written, preferring conversation as the true arena of philosophy, Johnson's work reflects a later recognition (shaped through formal academic study) that writing and literature can serve as gateways to philosophical reflection. Stories and texts may introduce ideas, provoke thought, and frame questions, but philosophy in its fullest sense remains something that ultimately unfolds between persons. The fiction written under this name is meant to invite that dialogue rather than replace it.

The author followed a circuitous path through early collegiate study, visual storytelling, military service, and later formal philosophical education. College began on a journalism scholarship (less a mark of brilliance than a reliable indication of basic literacy) which nonetheless proved useful as a way to take philosophy classes alongside reporting and writing. That early academic detour was cut short by a decision to volunteer for deployment to Afghanistan in 2009. What followed was a twenty-year career in the U.S. Army, before a deliberate return to the philosophical questions that had first drawn this work toward inquiry, art, and literature.

Formal study resumed at the University of Oxford, culminating in an undergraduate Certificate of Higher Education in Philosophy, with particular focus on classical ethics, free will, and the conditions of human agency in technologically mediated societies. This intellectual grounding now runs directly through the fiction: the novels are not written as escapism, but as extended thought experiments embedded in narrative form.

Literarily, Johnson draws from Fyodor Dostoevsky, Leo Tolstoy, George Orwell, and Alexandre Dumas. These figures are treated not as models to imitate but as intellectual ancestors whose seriousness about human nature, power, and moral responsibility continues to shape the work. The author's deep love for Russian novels has been a profound inspiration, not only for the philosophical depth and moral complexity they bring to storytelling, but also for the sweeping, epic scope they achieve. For the past three and a half years, the author has been studying the Russian language for the sole purpose of reading original Russian literature without the assistance of translated copies: a commitment to engaging with these masterworks in their purest form.

In the realm of science fiction, the author's influences include Frank Herbert, Isaac Asimov, and Philip K. Dick. These are visionaries who understood that the best speculative fiction asks profound questions about consciousness, reality, and what it means to be human.

The SuperUnknowN was first conceived in 1995, long before artificial intelligence or transhumanism entered mainstream discourse. For more than three decades it was refined, discarded, and rebuilt through art, war, study, and loss: a philosophical science-fiction epic about the enduring power of the human soul.

The author makes no claim to greatness. The literary giants mentioned here (Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, Orwell, Dumas, Herbert, Asimov, Dick) set a standard that may well remain beyond reach. But the goal has never been to match their genius. It is simply to write to the best of one's abilities, to pursue the work with honesty and care, and to leave behind a body of work worth standing by: something that reflects the questions that matter most, told as well as this writer knows how.

Today, Johnson lives quietly near the mountains with his wife and their dogs. There are three things in this world he loves absolutely: his wife, his dogs, and philosophy (in that order). The only other thing that comes close is the Boston Red Sox.

Oxford Philosophy Graduate
U.S. Army Veteran
Philosophical Novelist
Dog Lover

The SuperUnkowN

A philosophically driven dystopian science-fiction saga set centuries after humanity's self-destruction, where engineered castes, orbital aristocracies, and algorithmic governance have replaced political freedom with technological order.

Published byRomulus Press - Publisher of The SuperUnknowN

© 2026 Socrates Johnson. All rights reserved.

The SuperUnknowN Volume 1: The Fray And The Cinder - Book Cover
COMING FALL 2026

Volume 1

The Fray And The Cinder

Fall 2026

The SuperUnknowN Volume 2: The Motherland Calls - Book Cover
IN PROGRESS - 58%

Volume 2

The Motherland Calls

In Progress

Coming Soon

Volume 3

Echoes From The Abyss

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Volume 4

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100%Complete

Volume 1

The Fray And The Cinder

Complete
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Volume 2

The Motherland Calls

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Volume 3

Echoes From The Abyss

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About The Series

The SuperUnknowN is a philosophically driven dystopian science-fiction saga set centuries after humanity's self-destruction, where engineered castes, orbital aristocracies, and algorithmic governance have replaced political freedom with technological order.

At its center stands Nicomachus "Nico" Shaw, a resurrected cybernetic veteran whose abandoned research into artificial consciousness and soul-transfer has become the foundation of a regime that now rules humanity. As Shaw is drawn back into a hidden war between the Sovereign, the Phalanx Corporation, and the underground Fray, he confronts the metaphysical consequences of trying to resurrect the dead, preserve identity, and manufacture meaning in a world that has erased both.

The story blends cyberpunk, post-apocalyptic, and metaphysical science fiction into a meditation on whether consciousness, love, and moral agency can survive in a universe that has learned how to copy everything except the soul.

The Evolution of a Vision

The SuperUnknowN began not as a novel, but as a comic book. The first copyright was registered in 1995, when the story was conceived as a graphic novel exploring themes of identity, consciousness, and what it means to be human in a world where technology has replaced the soul.

Nicomachus Nico Shaw - Current Character Design 2025
Nicomachus "Nico" Shaw

Current Version (2025)

The evolved protagonist of the novel series

Christopher Shaw - Original 1995 Hand-Drawn Comic Book Character Design with MTP-3 weapon
Christopher Shaw

Original Version (1995)

The first incarnation from the comic book concept—featuring the iconic MTP-3 weapon and that classic '90s six-shooter with a scope

The comic book was never printed, but the story never left. For nearly three decades, The SuperUnknowN evolved through multiple iterations—characters were reimagined, plot lines were refined, and the philosophical depth expanded far beyond what a graphic novel could contain.

The project was set aside for years, but approximately five years ago, the author returned to it with renewed vision and purpose. Many characters and core themes from the 1995 original premise remain intact, but the story has grown into something far more ambitious—a four-volume philosophical science-fiction epic that explores consciousness, identity, and the human soul in ways the original comic could only hint at.

What began as a graphic novel has evolved into a much more significant and greater story—one that has been refined through art, war, study, and loss, and is now ready to be shared with the world.

4

Volume Series

2026

Published

Science Fiction

Genre

Epic

Saga

1995

Original Copyright

Comic Book

Original Format

Main Characters

Meet the key figures navigating a world where consciousness, identity, and moral agency struggle to survive in a universe that has learned to copy everything except the soul.

Nicomachus 'Nico' Shaw

Nicomachus 'Nico' Shaw

The Resurrected Soldier

A brilliant but broken engineer-soldier, resurrected after centuries of cryogenic death and now burdened by the knowledge that his own research into consciousness and cybernetics became the backbone of a global tyranny.

Eligio

Eligio

The Mysterious Child

A mysterious child whose existence may represent the next evolutionary threshold of consciousness itself. Protected by Daimon in the dangerous underworld, Eligio's true nature holds secrets that could reshape humanity's future.

Romulus

Romulus

The Guardian

A genetically enhanced war dog who embodies memory, loyalty, and continuity in a civilization built on artificial lives. Romulus represents unwavering devotion in a world where trust is a rare commodity.

Aletheia

Aletheia

The Seer

Aletheia is a figure of quiet gravity and concealed history. Three centuries before the present era, her father recovered Nicomachus Shaw from the brink of death after he was left mangled, broken and near death by an unknown assassin. Rather than allow him to die, he placed Shaw into cryogenic stasis, preserving him until a future world possessed the means to restore what violence had taken. When that future arrived, it was Aletheia who brought him back.

Prime Chancellor Agrafena Svetlova

Prime Chancellor Agrafena Svetlova

The Unlikely Leader

Prime Chancellor of the Rings of Utopia. Agrafena Svetlova is a figure of immaculate poise, measured authority, and unsettling stillness. Raised in the Cinder as a 'Mother Tongue' under Phalanx oversight, she climbed from obscurity through intelligence, discipline, and an unwavering sense of order. To the public, she is remembered as the savior of District 5, whose decisive intervention during the Frayed Five Rebellion preserved the Sovereign's dominion and extinguished the last organized resistance on Earth. Her suppression of the uprising—swift, public, and final—was not sadism but conviction: proof that a 'Mother Tongue' could act with the same decisive resolve as the engineered elite. Her success elevated her to Prime Chancellor following Wexley's death, validation that she had earned a place among the perfected.

Daimon

Daimon

The Amnesiac Warrior

Known simply as Daimon, she survives in the poisoned ruins of Earth, raising a young boy named Eligio within the brutal sprawl of the Fray. She is relentless, fiercely protective, and governed by instinct rather than memory. Her earliest recollection is not of a home, but of a laboratory—bright, cold, and off-world—where scientists stood over a frightened child she did not yet recognize as her own. With strength she did not know she possessed, Daimon broke free, tore through her captors, seized the child, and fled to Earth's toxic wastelands. In a world built on control and surveillance, Daimon and Eligio survive only because the world itself is too broken to follow them. She may not remember who she was, but she knows who she must be: Eligio's guardian.

Chancellor McNamara

Chancellor McNamara

The Engineered Genius

Gerald T. McNamara is the Chancellor of District 5, known throughout the world simply as the Fray. It is the lowest and most brutal tier of civilization—a vast industrial sprawl of mines, refineries, slums, and labor camps that sustains the wealth of the Rings of Utopia. Everything the upper world consumes—energy, metals, and human lives—passes through McNamara's domain. To McNamara, the Fray is not a place. It is a proving ground. His ambition is fixed on the Rings of Utopia, where true power resides among the Sovereign's elite. District 5 is merely the arena in which he demonstrates his ruthlessness, efficiency, and total willingness to extract everything possible from those beneath him. Wealth, in his mind, is meaningless without power. Power, to be real, must be unchallengeable.

Arch Baron Dominus Solaryn

Arch Baron Dominus Solaryn

The Ancient Architect

Not merely a ruler, but one of the hidden architects of human history itself—an ancient intelligence that helped design the very world now ruled by the Sovereign. He belongs to the Solaryn, a pre-human race created by the Handarians, engineered to embody strength, intellect, and longevity beyond natural limits. Across millennia, Solaryn blood quietly entered human history, producing extraordinary figures—warriors, philosophers, kings, and demigods. Dominus Solaryn is the apex of that lineage.

Discover More

Explore the full cast in the complete series

Locations

Explore the diverse territories of The SuperUnknowN universe—from the frozen wastes of District 1 to the orbital paradise of the Rings of Utopia. Each location tells a story of power, survival, and the price of perfection.

Map of The SuperUnknowN World
District 1: The Frozen Abyss

District 1: The Frozen Abyss

A frozen wasteland at the edge of civilization, where temperatures plunge to lethal extremes. Home to abandoned research stations and secrets buried beneath centuries of ice. Only the desperate or the exiled venture into this unforgiving territory.

District 2: The Nexus

District 2: The Nexus

The gleaming heart of technological advancement and administrative power. Towering spires pierce the sky, housing the elite and the engineered. The Nexus represents order, control, and the promise of perfection—at a price most cannot afford to pay.

District 3: The Polar Void

District 3: The Polar Void

A mysterious region where reality itself seems unstable. Strange phenomena occur with disturbing regularity, and those who enter often return changed—if they return at all. The Polar Void holds secrets about consciousness that the Sovereign would prefer remain hidden.

District 4: The Motherland

District 4: The Motherland

The agricultural and industrial backbone of civilization. Sprawling farms and factories stretch across the landscape, worked by those deemed 'Mother Tongues'—natural-born humans who serve the engineered elite. Life here is hard but purposeful, bound by duty and tradition.

District 5: The Fray

District 5: The Fray

District 5 is the industrial heart of Earth—a sprawling maze of rusted towers, neon-lit slums, refineries, and gene mills grinding endlessly beneath a sky choked with ash. Acid rain falls in metallic sheets while phosphorescent alloys cast a dim glow over endless crowds of workers. At its center lies Red Square, the Fray's commercial artery where deals are made, contraband is traded, and survival is negotiated one transaction at a time.

The Cinder

The Cinder

Beyond District 5 lies a scorched nuclear wasteland where civilization dissolves into radiation and ash. Home to the Mother Tongues—full-blooded humans who've adapted to survive where others cannot—the Cinder is ruled by the Black Ash Syndicate. Here, law no longer exists. Corporate patrols don't enter. Few outsiders who cross into the Cinder ever return.

The Rings of Utopia

The Rings of Utopia

Orbital habitats circling Earth, home to the Sovereign and the perfected elite. Here, in the cold vacuum of space, the engineered live in luxury and immortality, gazing down upon the wasteland that was once humanity's cradle. Earth—ravaged, depleted, left to rot—now serves merely as their mining colony, its last resources extracted to fuel the construction of new worlds while the old one withers beneath them. The Rings represent the ultimate abandonment: paradise built upon planetary ruin.

Luna Prime

Luna Prime

The system's capital and largest city of almost a million people, located on the Moon. Home to the aristocracy class—pure-blood descendants of ancient African and Western European bloodlines. The Citadel, a fortress of splendor, serves as the Sovereign seat of the Arch Baron. Within the Great Hall, Earth's last treasures are safeguarded, and the highest tier of education shapes rulers and visionaries. Crystalline mansions glitter beneath the Aegis Array, adorned with Martian silks and rare asteroid metals.

Oblivion's End

Oblivion's End

Oblivion's End wasn't just a bar. It was a symptom of a larger disease—a festering lesion where the Fray's hopelessness came to forget they were still alive. Inside, the air hung thick with curling tendrils of VapEuRa, slow-moving like smoke, clinging to skin like tree sap, lungs burning, as your memory fades in and out of reality. Phalanx Corporation developed it specifically for bio-engineered humans. Every surface, bar, booth, and stool was corroded by years of exposure to synthetic vapors.

The Handarian Ruins

The Handarian Ruins

Located on Mars in an uninhabitable region far from human settlements, these severely dilapidated structures have stood for hundreds of thousands of years. Built by the Handarians—the mysterious pre-human race that created the Solaryns—the ruins remain standing despite their ancient decay. The entire civilization of this alien race was centered around memory, and these monuments serve as testament to their obsession with preserving consciousness across time. Though new human colonies exist on Mars, none dare venture into this desolate region where the Handarians' legacy endures.

A World Divided

Five districts, countless stories, one struggle for humanity

Sample Pages

Read excerpts from The SuperUnknowN

Volume 1 Coming Fall 2026

Select Chapter

Pre-order information coming soon

Chapter 1: The Red Square

Year: 2335 281 AGC, (After the Great Cataclysm). The Red Square unfurled before him, alive with a dim, anxious glow. Scattered lights shimmered in rain-slick puddles, throwing broken reflections across the cracked red stone walls. Signs of flickering amplified light carved sharp, rust-colored shadows through the ashen haze, illuminating a maze of crooked stalls across the bustling streets. The air was dirty with barter and negotiated deals, a fragile marketplace permitted only by the indifference of the powers that governed here. Beyond it, St. Basil's loomed like a phantom. Its onion domes leaned under centuries of weight, paint faded, stone fractured, yet still regal, an echo of an empire long past. Against the utilitarian skyline, the cathedral's silhouette looked out of place, as though the Omega Wars had scorched everything but this stubborn relic of the Motherland. He slid on a pair of thin gloves, concealing the cybernetic enhancements that marked him. His hands were a constant reminder of a deal gone wrong, one that had cost him more than just his pride. He flexed his fingers once, testing the fit, then returned his gaze to the swelling tide of people as they scuttled about. Beside him, an orb, floating silently. Its sleek surface caught faint glimmers of the market lights. About the size of an apple, the engineers called it QORD: Quantum Observation and Retrieval Device, but Mitya had given it a simpler, more personal name: Nyx. "You're nosy today, Nyx," Mitya muttered. Nyx responded with a faint, cheerful chirp, her glow intensifying briefly as she interacted with the biometric scanner on the sustenance unit beside him. The sustenance dispensers were government-issued and purely utilitarian, their glowing screens displaying rotating icons of nutrient packs, each tailored for specific lower-tier roles. Worker Pack 472-A (Red): Heavy-duty fuel for laborers, packed with protein bars and hydrating gels. Engineer Pack 381-M (Blue): Omega-rich gels and antioxidant cubes for cognitive endurance. Technician Pack 211-T (Green): A balance of light proteins, caffeine gels, and cognitive-enhancing nutrients, Mitya's personal favorite. There were none designed for Red Market smugglers. A green pulse emanated from the scanner, signaling that it was ready to analyze a worker's biometrics, tier, and caloric needs before dispensing the appropriate pack. For most, the process was automatic. For Mitya, it was always a gamble. As a non-citizen Mother Tongue, the machines weren't designed for him. "Do your thing, Nyx," Mitya murmured, motioning toward the scanner. He knew to watch for the flicker of an Enforcer's optics. He saw the way two street hawkers suddenly cut their conversation short when they passed him. He smiled wider, as if to mask the tension with arrogance. In the Fray, confidence was currency, and by this measure, he was filthy rich. Moments later, a nutrient pack slid from the red glowing chute. Mitya grabbed it, grinning. His exuberance quickly faded when he saw the red label: Worker Pack 472-A. "Devil take me, Nyx," he groaned, shaking his head. "You know I wanted the Technician Pack. I needed that caffeine gel, not this…brick!" He said with frustration, "Come on, time to get to work." He tore the packaging open with his teeth, as his face reflected exaggerated dismay while pulling out the dense, protein-packed bar. "Are you trying to kill me with this sludge?" Nyx spun in place, emitting what almost sounded like a mocking trill, and Mitya chuckled despite himself. "Oh, don't play coy with me, you knew exactly what you were doing." He took a seat and bit into the dense nutrient bar, his nose wrinkling at the bland, synthetic taste. Even so, he ate it, his sharp gaze never straying far from the crowd. Mitya wasn't one to take risks lightly, but he also wasn't one to starve. His grin returned, faint but confident, as he leaned back, chewing and watching. Around him, the Fray moved with its usual chaotic rhythm, workers hustling to their next shifts, drones flitting overhead, Enforcers stalking the streets. He seemed perfectly at ease in the chaos, even as the warnings printed on the nutrient pack stared back at him: 'For Official Use Only – Misuse Punishable by Reassignment.' Mitya patted Nyx lightly, her glow dimming in what almost felt like approval. "Well," he muttered, "guess I've upgraded to the 'not starving' category. Nice work, as always." He finished his meal quickly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before slipping into a narrow alley. Nyx drifted beside him, its faint glow tracing restless shadows across the damp, crumbling walls. The winding passage led to an unmarked stairwell descending three levels beneath the street. Guards loomed at key corners, their augmented eyes sweeping alleys and exits in mechanical rhythm. Mitya scanned the dark until a figure detached itself from the wall beside the stairwell, a broad man, half-swallowed by shadow, with a massive dog at his side. "You're late," the man said. "Time's subjective," Mitya replied dryly. "You of all people should appreciate that." He pulled a square token from his pocket, gold-plated, etched with the Phalanx insignia, and held it out. The man took it without a word, slipping it into his coat before melting back into the alley's darkness. "You're welcome," Mitya muttered, shaking his head as he turned toward the stairwell. Nyx brightened slightly, its ambient glow revealing the damp concrete steps spiraling downward. Mitya's boots echoed with each careful step, the sound fading into the hollow hum of the underworld that pulsed beneath the Fray. At the bottom, an entirely different world unfolded, a clandestine labyrinth where merchants and traders wove the lifeblood of the infamous black market, aptly named *красная рынок, the Red Market*. The name owed itself not only to its proximity to the legendary Red Square but to the perpetual, hellish glow of crimson emergency lights that drenched the underground corridors in an eerie, bloodstained crimson hue. At its entrance loomed a gold-plated skull, untouched by even the most daring hands, an unspoken warning rather than an ornament. Mitya glanced up at it with a smirk, tipping a condescending two-fingered salute as he passed beneath, his expression laced with irreverence, as if mocking the silent sentry of this underworld. The gold-plated skull grinned down from its perch, a glinting totem of vengeance and power. Everyone in the Fray knew better than to touch it. Even the elites on Luna Prime had heard the tale of what happens when they come shopping in the wrong district. Mitya and Nyx quickly faded into the haunting shadows of the Red Market. CHAPTER'S END

This is an excerpt from The SuperUnknowN by Socrates Johnson. All rights reserved.

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