Safe Haven could have been one of the many wonders of the world in a different time, but now it stands alone. This enormous building housed the most important leaders, politicians, scientists, physicists, spiritual leaders, astronomers, and surviving citizens on multiple levels, both above and below ground. It was constructed in the middle of the great desert, the former North America, which was one of the hardest-hit areas by the solar storm known as "Judgment."
Years before, NASA had already issued warnings that the ozone layer was slowly deteriorating due to the harmful gases we were emitting. The hole in the ozone layer grew larger and larger, gradually weakening the Earth's magnetic shield that had protected us for centuries against the most powerful force in our universe—the sun. Yet, we ignored the warnings and continued to pollute our planet until Judgment appeared on the horizon.
The haunting echoes of sirens lingered in our collective memory, a constant reminder of our vulnerability. As ordinary citizens, we found ourselves defenceless in our meagre shelters, while the privileged few sought refuge in opulent bunkers. These subterranean sanctuaries, originally constructed under NASA's insistence to prepare for a potential apocalyptic event, now served as repositories of history, safeguarding relics and artifacts that encapsulated the knowledge and essence of human civilization, even at the cost of sacrificing innocent lives.
In the aftermath of the solar storm, the tattered remnants of our once-abundant food supply left us teetering on the brink of desperation. Once fertile fields withered under the unrelenting assault, freshwater sources dwindled to mere trickles, and the vibrant tapestry of flora and fauna faded into a somber silence. The toll exacted upon humanity was staggering. What was initially dismissed as an anomalous solar storm soon revealed itself to be a harbinger of deeper, more sinister truths—a cataclysmic revelation beyond the confines of natural phenomena.
In an unprecedented turn of events, nations cast aside their long-standing differences, coming together with a shared vision of peace and unity. From this collective determination, the Federation For All Humanity (FFAH) arose—a formidable alliance symbolized by a flag depicting Earth embraced by a constellation of stars, each representing a different nation. This historic accord heralded a transformative era, transcending the barriers of geography and ideology.
Taking centre stage in this global endeavour, the United States became the epicentre for the unified rescue mission. With utmost precision, a highly specialized military unit was assembled, honed to perfection in their ability to deliver humanitarian aid and safeguard the lives of survivors in the ravaged corners of the world.
Across the American continent, a beacon of hope emerged in the form of Safe Haven—a sanctuary offering solace and protection to those displaced by catastrophe. In Europe, the resilient souls found refuge within the walls of New Hope, while Asia embraced those in need through the haven known as Last Resort. In the vast expanses of Africa and Oceania, Keepers stood as steadfast guardians, providing sanctuary for the vulnerable.
Within the confines of these immense structures, meticulously designed with both above-ground and underground levels, an impenetrable dome and fortified heat shields ensured protection against any calamity.
And how did I come to possess this knowledge? For I am not merely an observer but a resident of Safe Haven itself. My modest chamber rests on the 16th floor, perched on the outer edges of the building. From here, I survey the barren expanse of desert, the haunting remnants of a time when joy and contentment were commonplace. I bear the mantle of a soldier, entrusted with the crucial task of participating in the rescue missions across North America. My name is Jason Baker
"BAKER!" a voice thundered from the other side of the door. "Open up!"
Startled by the unmistakable voice, I swiftly rose from behind the small folding table beneath the window, The sketch pen with which I had been mentally depicting the landscape slipped from my trembling hand and clattered to the floor. With a sense of trepidation, I hurried towards the door and unlocked it. But before I could react, the door swung open with a forceful jerk. Standing in the doorway, a formidable figure loomed—Sergeant Major Matthew Connors. "Stand at attention, soldier!" he commanded, his tone seething with anger. I snapped into position, awaiting further instructions, all the while assessing just how deep I had gotten myself into trouble.
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The Last Hunt
Science Fiction"How many lives can you save in 180 days? As Earth is rocked by the most violent solar storm in history, a startling revelation emerges - the Sun is much older than previously thought, and nearing its death throes. But that's not the only threat on...
