"On that day all the springs of the great deep burst forth, and the floodgates of the heavens were opened. And rain fell on the earth forty days and forty nights.
The waters rose and increased greatly on the earth, and the ark floated on the surface of the water. They rose greatly on the earth, and all the high mountains under the entire heavens were covered.
Every living thing that moved on land perished—birds, livestock, wild animals, all the creatures that swarm over the earth. Everything on dry land that had the breath of life in its nostrils died. Every living thing on the face of the earth was wiped out."
Genesis 7:17-23
The waters are not the first thing people remember about that day.
Some people say the Waters were punishment for humanity's strain upon the earth. Wine-dark waters swallowed cities, submerging billions of people. Mothers, fathers and children were were left like waste. Heretics claimed that God himself was culling the sinners from the righteous while some worshiped the waters in fear, praying for mercy; praying it would stop raining...
...for it didn't stop at forty days and forty nights, but forty years.
Fear is immortal. It captivated those who stood on the shores when the first waves rolled towards the cities as tall as mountains; it captivates the eyes of those who peer down from the Arcs into the murky depths of oceans churning ravenously.
Fear alone can decide culture; fear alone can sculpt children in warriors.
Hopelessness, too, can shape a nation. The last remnants of hope sunk when survivors watched the last remaining patch of land sink under water while realizing that last patch was the once the peak of the tallest mountain in the world.
Fear and hope shaped Noah, a visionary architect who'd spent his entire life working in preparation for such an event to transpire. When the first islands began to disappear, the remaining nations gave into the madman's technology and they realized his true brilliance.
The survivors felt the earth tremble as seven black swords exploded from the ground into the sky, as vast and thick as the cities that fell underwater. When these towers pierced the zenith of the sky, they finally stopped, garbed in the raiment of clouds.
Welcome to Dana Efra, the Third Arc, and one of the last remaining cities in the world.
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Project Angel
Science Fiction*Warning: this story includes violence and language which may be disturbing to some readers. Reader discretion is advised.* (i've always wanted to say that lol) Meet Reaver, the best ravager in Arclight. The year is 2200, and the world is wilting as...
