Who could have foreseen the transformation of the solar system Earth once called home?
It began roughly 80,000 years ago, an imperceptible shift that even the most vigilant astronomers of the age failed to detect.
Bound by gravitational laws but separated by vast distances, the planets began a slow, almost undetectable convergence.
At first, the change was so gradual that it escaped notice, but as decades turned into centuries, the movement quickened, triggering catastrophic consequences for Earth.
The growing proximity of the celestial bodies warped gravity and destabilized orbits. Tidal forces ravaged the planet, unleashing devastating earthquakes that fractured continents and tsunamis that swallowed entire civilizations.
As the planets drew closer, fragments of shattered worlds rained from the heavens, adding to the chaos. When the convergence reached its peak, the unimaginable occurred: the planets collided and merged into a single, colossal celestial body.
Earth, battered and broken, became a fragment of this massive new world. Landmasses expanded, swallowing seas and rearranging continents, while the thickened atmosphere churned with untamed energy.
Gravity itself shifted, reshaping the environment into something both terrifying and full of opportunity. Towering forests sprouted where deserts once lay, while storms of unparalleled ferocity swept across the vast, alien landscape.
Blizzards froze some regions as infernos scorched others. This was no longer Earth. This event, etched into history, came to be known as the Great Convergence.
Humanity, fractured and clinging to survival, faced unprecedented challenges. Only those who had prepared for apocalyptic scenarios—not out of religious zeal but through paranoia and a lifetime of vigilance—were mentally and physically equipped to endure the initial chaos.
However, even their preparations were no match for the planet's new reality. The radioactive rays emitted from the sun and the molecular changes brought by the planetary merger mutated all biological life forms.
Those capable of adapting survived; those who couldn't, perished.
For humans, the weaning years after the Great Convergence were brutal. Radiation killed daily, thinning the population and fostering despair.
Cults emerged, claiming to hasten humanity's inevitable extinction through executions in the name of a "purge." Yet, as history often demonstrates, humanity's tenacity prevailed. Much like cockroaches clinging to life, humans adapted, albeit painfully.
Some technology proved useless, while other advancements thrived—until they didn't. Order eventually rose from disorder, but it was an order defined by a grim pragmatism, where morality often took a backseat.
Civilizations reemerged, though vastly different from what came before. Power was no longer determined by the majority's will but by resources, technology, and strength.
The vote was carried by those deemed valuable, and laws were crafted to serve their interests. In many ways, it was a return to an age when nobles ruled with impunity.
Isolated civilizations, shaped by the merging of Earth's continents with those of other planets, developed independently.
These separations were reinforced by treacherous terrains, monstrous life forms born of mutation, and insurmountable distances.
Each civilization evolved uniquely, becoming specialists in their chosen paths of advancement, with their own histories, cultures, and orders.
When some of these civilizations finally overcame the barriers of the transformed Earth, wars erupted.
Driven by the desire to conquer and the necessity to defend, they fought with unrelenting fervor. Victory often favored those wielding superior tools of war, tipping the scales in their favor. The pattern was all too familiar: history repeating itself as humanity once again tread the dark path of conquest.
Lands were claimed, lives were enslaved, and the mistakes of long-forgotten ancestors played out anew.
These were merely fragments of the past following the Great Convergence.
As for the city Messimah now inhabits, its fate was sealed by one of the many wars that scarred this new world.
Known formally as Jejity, the city lies amidst a vast desert with scarce water sources. Dehydration claimed lives daily, while those with access to water risked consuming radioactive substances. Purified water, sold at exorbitant prices, was a luxury few could afford.
Companies halfheartedly purified water to cut costs, profiting further by offering medications to treat the illnesses their tainted products caused.
These so-called cures often came with deadly side effects, perpetuating a cycle of exploitation and suffering.
In this bleak landscape, Messimah introduces a beacon of hope: the Aqua Filtration Kit.
Finishing up, Messimah went through his newly created Aqua filtration kit, trying to see if he had skipped or done something out of place.
He recalculated and retraced his steps, not wanting any mistake to be his downfall or cause a delay for him.
Moreover, his pride had taken a hit these past few days when he realized that creating the Aqua Filtration Kit wouldn't be as easy as he imagined it would be.
Before he began, because of his research, Messimah was fairly confident that he would be able to create a functioning Aqua Filtration Kit in at most 2 days.
From the moment he began this task, 6 days had gone by.
I swear, if this shit blows up in my face, I'll make Gaus's men pay for it two times over. Only they could be blamed for such an unfortunate occurrence.
Thinking to himself, Messimah reached out for an aluminum flask that contained radioactive water in it. Opening the lid of the flask, Messimah inhaled the stench that waned out of the flask, before pouring the water from the flask into a glass cup that was by his table.
As the water flowed from one carrier to another, Messimah observed the clear water and couldn't help but think of how deceiving looks could be. If it wasn't for the stench that came from this water, one wouldn't be able to tell if it was contaminated until ingesting it.
Honestly, my forefathers couldn't just drink more of this and end the line of descendants that led to my existence.
Picking the cup and bringing it closer to his nose, Messimah inhaled more of the stench that came from the radioactive water.
Doing this, he could feel his head become light as tears streamed down his eyes.