Hey :D this is my FPS Scenario story for 2025, it just got into Nationals so wish me luck (I gotta write another story on Nanotechnology help-)
Among the Rising Tide
The oceans had swallowed the old world.
Once, there were cities where children played under the sun, where cars flowed like rivers and buildings kissed the sky. Now, skyscrapers jutted like broken bones from the sea, rusting and hollow.
Adria stepped out of the gloom of the cell, into the light.
“You can go now.” A gruff voice called out to the people of the protest, hundreds of innocent citizens who were arrested because they just wanted to live better lives.
Silent, she watched as hundreds of people streamed past her, into what was more isolated than the prison cells.
The old world was now a fairytale. History rewritten as myth, a dream no one alive would ever know.
What remained were soggy marshlands and crowded hilltops. This one was among the last patches of land above water, what once was the highest peak in the world. When the floods came, survivors from all over the world fled here in waves, searching for safety.
The government constructed narrow towers, charging unaffordable taxes and fees for the smallest things. Five years had passed, and the towers only grew tighter, taller, more desperate.
Adria witnessed the happiness of the old world. She witnessed the slow melting of those glaciers on the news. She witnessed the mass production of the so-called advanced technology, to the point that even the planet found it unbearable.
She witnessed the protests as desperate people spoke up for their environment. She was a supporter, and a comrade.
Yet, the protest had taken her parents. All she had left was herself.
As she was escorted to her room, a tiny space barely liveable, Adria glanced at the interactive display screen. A warning flashed:
SCALE 3 STORM IN 3 HOURS. MOVEMENT RESTRICTED IN 2 HOURS.
“You must always obey the warnings. We’re trying to protect you.” The officer growled, then left the room with a slam of the door.
Adria stared out of the unwashed tinted windows. Twenty-three levels down, a snaking line already formed outside the ration centre. People clung to crumbling ladders and crossed bridges made from salvaged planks and pipes.
Adria’s stomach ached from yesterday’s little dinner.
She slipped out of her unit. The sun was bleak and dull outside, cowering behind ominous grey clouds. The storm was coming, and with it, more destruction.
She reached the ration station, where a long line of weary people awaited. Each person had dirty hands and wore old, crumbling clothes. Nowadays, even water was scarce. Although they were surrounded by it, cleaning the saltwater was slow, and the government was running out of money to fix the machines.
“One food pack and two litres of water per person,” the distributor droned.
Adria collected her meal. A fight broke out behind her, someone yelling about going hungry, and her children starving. No one cared. Everyone was hungry. Everyone was scared.
Panting, she arrived back home. Through her tiny window, she watched waves batter the tower’s base.
Will it ever go down?
Scientists once explained the urgency. But people ignored them, too busy chasing their technology dreams. Factories worked away as smoke plumed effortlessly into the sky. And governments? They didn’t care. They did whatever it took to get the money, including destroying the world, our home.
Now, storms raged weekly. The oceans kept rising. Earth was out of patience to wait for them.
Each week brought new rules. You weren’t to move at certain times. No conspiracy, no trading, no going to other towers. Food supplies were tight – farms were destroyed by the raging waters, roads destroyed, and transport cut off. What little was grown in the government laboratories wasn’t enough.
To make it worse, rumours drifted through the towers. A hidden sector. Real trees. Sunlight. Food. A place for the “chosen.”
Most called it a myth. But just last week, a man washed up on the shore. Claimed he was kicked out from “Sector Black”. A hidden dome of everything you’ll ever want.
Adria couldn’t get it out of her mind.
That night, a message blinked on Adria’s wall screen, glowing neon yellow.
“If you want to find the truth, come to Dock 14. Midnight. No devices.”
She stared at it for a long time, her heart pounding indecisively.
When the door closed behind her, rain was already hammering the rooftops. She crept toward the dock, weaving past drones and security lights. Others were already gathered. Teenagers, young adults, all huddled beneath dripping hoods. They were all tired. All hopeless.
A figure stepped forward.
“I’m Lys,” she said. “I sent the message.”
Adria recognised her straight-away. Lys was one of the other protesters who were arrested. Her parents were major supporters, and Adria remembered seeing Lys at the protest meetings, quiet, shy, not at all like she would try to rebel.
Adria looked around. The faces of these individuals were all familiar.
Lys lowered her voice. “I found a tunnel. It leads to Sector Black.”
A few scoffed, untrusting.
“Please. Just trust me this time.”
People were already leaving. They didn’t want to risk it for something so unclear.
Adria clenched her fists, unease fluttering through her body. Only a few believers were still here.
An anguishing gust of wind blasted past the group. Lightning crackled, leaving bright white scars in the sky. Rain poured harder.
The storm was coming.
“We’re leaving,” Lys said, frowning. “Now.”
The group moved quickly, slipping into the old city’s tunnels—dark, flooded paths beneath the ruins. Fish swam through the water and the rotting wooden posts. The smell of mould and metal clung to everything.
It was dangerous. The tunnels had collapsed in places, forcing them to climb, crawl, and wade through waist-deep sludge. Another few turned back, muttering in disgust. The rest pressed on, silent and afraid.
Adria thought of her future. Her parents. She forced herself forward.
Hours later, they saw it: a dome, glowing softly on the sea’s surface. Smooth. Untouched. A long stand connected it from the seabed to the base of the island, most likely with those unfamiliar machines, obviously created by scientists. Large tanks were extracting oxygen from the seawater.
They had made it.
A door hissed open. A woman in white stepped out. Her hair was tied up in a neat bun, untangled and brushed. Her skin was clean and smooth, unlike anyone back on the island. She wore her lab coat like she was born in it, the sleeves slightly crinkled and stained, but the lab coat was always immaculately, flawlessly, clean, pressed sharp at the seams
“We’ve been expecting you,” she said.
“How?” Lys asked.
The woman smirked slyly, pointing towards the ginormous monitoring screens in the back of the dome. Rotting, leaning towers were displayed on them.
“We wanted to see who would make it,” the woman replied. “Who had the will to survive.”
Adria stared at her, wide-eyed. “You watched us starve.”
The woman’s tone stayed calm. “We couldn’t save everyone. Resources are limited. We saved the ones who could save themselves.”
Behind her, people survived plentifully. Food was stacked on tables. Water ran clear.
“How is this possible?” someone else gasped.
The woman grinned knowingly.
“Scientists knew we couldn’t reverse the effects done, so they were working on this the entire time.”
Several pairs of eyes turned towards the gleaming utopia.
“This?” she gestured towards the dome. “One of a kind reinforced laminated glass. Specially designed to withstand ocean pressure. It’s connected to a machine that monitors the UV and temperature inside.”
Some people were impressed, some were disgusted.
“The base is built on an energy reactor.” The woman went on smugly, “There are also artificial sunlamps to mimic crop growing seasons. Those machines over there are for quick, effective condensation, for safe clean water.”
“You can stay,” she continued. “If you forget where you came from.”
Some stepped forward instantly, eyes locked on comfort.
Adria didn’t move.
“What about the others?” she asked. “The ones still starving on the towers?”
The woman frowned. “Opening the dome to everyone would collapse the system.”
“Then it’s not survival,” Adria said. “Because you’re choosing who gets to live.”
Lys hesitated. “Adria… we made it. We’re safe now.”
Adria looked at the dome, everything she’d ever wanted. And then she looked back, toward the sea, the storm, the others left behind.
“I’m not staying,” she said. “Not unless we bring the others.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” the woman replied, the warmth in her eyes waning.
Heart hammering, she turned and walked away from paradise.
“Then I’ll make it possible.”