It smelled stale, like old noodles and a bad life choice. Just another day in MidgarCity, specifically Sector 5.
I worked for the Geo-Engineering Corp, and my job wasn't exciting at all. I mostly reprogrammed the algae farms that kept the air breathable in the poorer parts of the city.
But hey, it paid the bills.
Today was boring as usual. I was looking at mind-numbing data when Kenji started talking about his new virtual wife. I was barely paying attention when suddenly, the alarms went off.
"Tsunami alert, Sector 5! Evacuate to designated Sky-Towers! Tsunami alert, Sector 5!" The steady background sounds of the city were interrupted by a rough, mechanical voice.
Tsunamis weren't exactly new. Geo-Engineering had supposedly built the sea walls to withstand anything. Supposedly.
"Relax, Kenji," I said, shoving my data pad into my bag. "Probably just a glitch."
Kenji, completely unaware of the danger, had already crawled halfway under his desk. "A glitch that could drown us all, Sora!"
He wasn't wrong.
Outside, the usually vibrant streets were a chaotic ballet of panic and confusion. Flying scooters zipped erratically, hovercars slammed into each other, and the air itself seemed to vibrate with a feeling of fear. I pushed my way through the crowd, heading towards Sky-Tower Alpha-9, the closest one.
Then it hit.
Not like a wave, but like a wall of liquid pressure. The ground started shaking, and there was a really loud roar that seemed to be everywhere. I nearly fell down, so I grabbed onto a rusty metal bar sticking out of a broken-down building. I looked up and saw it – a towering wall of water, easily a hundred meters high, glowing with an unnatural, sickly green light. It wasn't just water. It was… tainted.
The moment it happened, the world changed. Everything became green and turned upside down.
I was thrown against floating wreckage, which knocked the wind out of me and tore my clothing. I struggled to reach the surface, coughing up the strange, glowing green liquid. Around me floated dead bodies, their faces frozen in expressions of fear. The stench was overpowering – a mix of ozone and something rotten, with a sharp, metallic tang.
Above me, the Sky-Towers loomed, impossibly tall, their metal surfaces shimmering with the same green glow. People were scrambling up the emergency ladders, their screams lost in the roar of the raging water. Getting to them was the only option.
For the next few hours, survival was a brutal, primal act. I swam, climbed, and fought my way through the heavy rain. I saw things that would haunt my nightmares forever: children swept away by the current, desperate people clawing at each other, bodies horribly mutated by the glowing water. The green light illuminated it all, turning the city into a grotesque stage.
Finally, I reached the base of Sky-Tower Alpha-9. The climb was agonizing, my muscles screaming, my hands raw. The air tasted cleaner up here, but the view was terrifying. Midgar City was gone, replaced by a churning sea of green. Only the very tops of the tallest buildings remained visible, like tombstones marking the graves of millions.
The Sky-Towers became our refuge, a precarious island in a toxic ocean. Days turned into weeks. We rationed food and water, struggled to maintain order, and waited for rescue that never came. The elders told stories of the Pre-Cataclysm world, a world of blue skies and clean water, tales that sounded like fairy tales now.
Then the sickness started.
First, it was a rash, then fever, then… other things. Horrific mutations, grotesque growths, skin that peeled off like parchment. The glowing water wasn't just water. It was a weapon, a biological agent that was rewriting our very DNA.
One evening, I was helping to care for the sick in the Tower's makeshift infirmary when I overheard a conversation. With serious expressions, two engineers leaned in close, whispering to each other in a secluded part of the room.
"The water… it's not just from the sea," one whispered. "It's runoff from the Bio-Weaponry Project. They never contained it properly."
Bio-Weaponry Project. The rumors had always been there, whispers in the dark about forbidden experiments, about creating the ultimate weapon. The Geo-Engineering Corp was the one who maintained them.
"But… why?" the other engineer asked, his voice trembling.
"Population control," the first engineer said, his eyes hollow. "The planet is overcrowded. The rich get to live up here while they cull the masses below."
I felt a cold dread grip me, a dawning realization that was more horrifying than the tsunami itself. We weren't survivors; we were lab rats. Sacrifices.
A strange flash drew my gaze downwards. Down below, amid the toxic green, something moved. Not just debris, but movement. Shapes, swimming, evolving.
I ran to the edge of the Tower and stared into the night. The water was alive. Below, the water moved and the surface was reflecting showing the towers and the people above that they were trapped in a glass walls like a ant farms.
The City Drowned in Light, and in its toxic glow, something new was being born. And it was angry.