marina-project

[marina-project]

The Marina Project, Chapter Two

Despite the World flooding over and only a handful of humans managing to survive long enough to create the Undercities, the Vermin still thrive.

The few cities that remain underneath the Bleak Oceans are plagued with rats and rodents, death and disease. Everyday, dozens of corpses are brought to the manufacturing plants to be turned into a pitiful approximation of food. The ones which are too diseased to be made into something edible are cast into the dark waters through the sewage drains. Law is non-existant, a fairy-tale told by the few souls old enough to remember its comforts. Men kill each other just to get their hands on a few scraps of edible muck, children starve in the streets and those without shame covet the bodies as a few extra days worth of rations.

What’s left of the authorities treat any grievances as punishable by death, the malcontent to serve their sentence as Maintenance Slaves to feed the machines which preserve the fragile safety of the Undercities. The only religion is that of the Oceans. Every day, the people left alive return to the rotting churches to pray to the hostile waters for salvation and for safety. Many believe the Ocean to be alive, an entity which can hear the prayers of the Damned and which saved us from the Moon. If it can hear us, it isn’t listening. The dead weep, their corpses feeding the bottom dwellers of the Ocean floor while the God of this world looks unflinchingly on.

[marina-project]

The Marina Project, Chapter One

The scant rays of sun washed weakly over the blackened waves.

Miles below, creations of flesh and sinew the size of Old-World factories drifted through the aether of the New World; dark, murky water which filled the Earth such like the air had so many years ago. Small civilizations survived in the pockets of water and trenches hospitable enough to build small cities. Gone were the gleaming industrial complexes of the Old World. In their place were domes of glass and metal and concrete, watertight enough to keep their populations alive, but still with a certain salt and moisture in the air which was pumped throughout their districts. 

Those few who remained to remember the days of old where the air was abundant and the world still shone had given up hope of a return to the prosperity of the times before. The Sea had swallowed the World, and yet we still praise the Bleak Oceans for we have felt the fury of the Moon, and know that there is no turning back.