"Us Jerboans have a proud history of telling you corpos to fuck off. We ain't never needed your megacities and your fancy solar powered doo-dads, and we ain't needing 'em now." - Calli Caliber, Jerboan
By the middle of the 21st century, it had become clear that the effects of climate change were exponential, devastating, and current. Old World governments made token efforts to keep temperature levels low, yet their attempts amounted to nothing. Unable to prevent environmental collapse, global famine surged as the world's breadbasket nations suffered rampant desertification and decarbonisation in their soil. Weather patterns spun out of control, the ice caps melted into biblical floods, and mass extinction led to complete anarchy and the dissolution of entire world governments. The few remaining governing bodies, in a desperate bid, funded schemes for humanity's survival, hoping to acclimate to this new state of being.
First, rapid advances in genetic engineering technology were brought about by an
across-the-board dismissal of all ethics and barriers, leading to the Forced Biodiversification Project.
This created entire food chains of hardy species purpose-built to handle the extreme weather, new crops of
fruit and vegetables, and ultimately the first meta-human race; the Jerboans.
Secondly, extensive funding for solar technology led to power and battery
life innovations. Therefore, allowing for advanced robots, cargo ships, and even cruise liners to be powered
entirely by solar. Governments dotted their nations with charging stations dedicated to quick recharging for
new and improved electric vehicles while swapping out batteries when necessary.
Thirdly, the governments of northern nations banded together to finance and
build a vast underground bunker network dedicated to housing hundreds of millions of people. Powered by
nuclear reactors, bunkers honeycombed the northern hemisphere, using hydroponic farms and the newly created
stem-spa vats to treat injuries, disease, and radiation sickness.
Finally, massive construction efforts to drain molten glacier water into
convenient reservoirs, coupled with desalination plants, created a vast irrigation system to keep the north
green and plentiful. It wasn't enough. And those that remained fled north.
By the year 2080, the population of the Old World had decreased to 1.5
billion. Desert had claimed everything south of Canada's Vancouver city; the world's remaining
people were displaced migrants with no ties to their host nations. People were desperate for food and
shelter, and the members of what paltry governing bodies remained had none to offer. Intense resentment bred
toward those in positions of power, as they spent dwindling supplies to protect their authority rather than
helping their people. Such as the Nayalings, created by the remnants of an Old World European government,
maintaining the old guard's power by conquering what little resource-rich lands were left.
Then, the corporations stepped in.
With massive tracts of land purchased in the Artic circle decades prior, the
wealthiest individuals and businesses of the Old World offered the starving masses an ultimatum; work for us
or starve. This bold proclamation was enticing, backed with proprietary advances in hydroponics and patented
genetically modified crops.
Hunger and desperation immediately drowned out any fleeting sense of
nationalism, trading governments for Holdings Companies; able to fill the bellies and pockets of their
billion-strong consumer bases. Megacities erected in important strategic or resource locations, housing
millions of people each while designed to be built higher and wider as the need arose without evacuating
dwellers. Gigantic agricultural projects in former Russia and Canada used previously frosted, carbon-rich
soil. All the people had to do was sign away the rights of their and future generations' lives for a hot
meal and a cool pillow.
Meanwhile, a forgotten trillionaire of the Old World financed and built what
is known as The Bezosphere, a modular ring of inter-connected space stations orbiting the planet. This
stellar structure contained the wealthiest, brilliant, and most influential people off-world until the Earth
healed. Once the invitees were onboard, the Bezosphere's leader offered its amenities to anyone who
could afford the exorbitant cost. These costs entailed a rocket flight to the ring and the expensive annual
subscription fees to pay for maintenance and one's own luxuries.
Those fortunate enough to receive future invitations knew that the only way
off the planet was to gain as much market share as possible through any means necessary.
Years passed. Corporations became ever more powerful, their wealth ballooned
astronomically, but invitations to the Bezosphere became fewer and fewer. Shareholders and the ultra-wealthy
cordoned off the launch pad leading to the Bezosphere, creating what's known today as The Walled Street.
The area acted as a large fortified gated community, allowing its wealthy residents to wait for their turn
on the rocketship while keeping the riffraff out.
Four hundred years later, in the present day, the desert has ceased
expanding at what was formerly Anchorage, Alaska. The few remnants of the Old World are now quaint hidden
relics of the past; flash drives filled with ancient memes, fragmented social media profiles, toys and
entertainment, and the occasional charred book. Corporations placate the masses with bread and circuses,
keeping the history of the Great Relocation controlled and out of the hands of the populace, lest the world
ever finds out what it was like before.
"I don't wanna brag, but when an A.I creates your race with the sole purpose of being better than humans, it's hard not to feel a bit big-headed." - Chops Melonslice, Wukong Ronin