The low hum of the power surge started again, reverberating through the cabin like a heartbeat—slow, steady, ominous. Jas braced against the trembling walls, the vibration rattling through their bones. A blinding burst of light seared the room, and when Jas opened their eyes, the wall opposite them had come alive.
A flickering map of the world sprawled across the cabin, glitching in and out like a corrupted transmission. Cities flashed red, then disappeared. Entire countries flickered like they were being erased in real time. Somewhere behind the static, a voice broke through—distorted, distant, and filled with anguish.
“…last Earth Day… too late to stop…”
The images shifted with jarring speed, showing scenes of devastation as though the planet itself were tearing apart.
Paris drowned in a monstrous wave, its iconic Eiffel Tower swallowed by the flood. The Amazon burned in an endless inferno, the skies above it turning black. Towering glaciers collapsed into oceans, sending tsunamis crashing into crumbling cities.
Jas’s breath hitched as a new scene emerged: London’s Tower Bridge crumpled under a sudden surge of water, its stone supports dissolving like sand. Behind it, the Thames rose like a wall, submerging the city.
“This is—this is everything,” Roman stammered, frozen beside Jas.
Faces began to appear now, flickering in rapid succession. Naomi Klein leaned forward, her voice trembling but fierce. “This isn’t just a disaster. This is the result of greed. Of negligence. Of thinking we could take without consequence.”
Michelle Obama spoke next, her tone commanding yet filled with sorrow. “The Earth warned us. Over and over, it warned us. We chose to ignore it. And now… now it’s come to collect.”
Then Al Gore: “The tipping points we once feared are here. And they’re unstoppable.”
The screen filled with leaders from every corner of the globe. Some wept. Others shouted. A few stood silent, their despair evident. Jas recognized them all—icons of a crumbling era.
“This is the last Earth Day.”
“We failed.”
“There is no escape.”
But then, a sudden shift.
The screen steadied, the chaos giving way to a single face. Jas leaned closer, their pulse quickening. It wasn’t a politician or an activist this time—it was a figure cloaked in shadows, their features obscured.
A voice, calm and deliberate, filled the cabin.
“It’s not over.”
Roman gasped, gripping Jas’s arm. “Did you hear that?”
The figure on the screen continued, their tone cutting through the darkness like a blade. “They want you to believe it’s too late. But it isn’t. Not yet. There’s a way forward. But you won’t find it up there, in their ivory towers. The answers are here—below, with us.”
The screen glitched violently, the image fracturing into shards of static before snapping back to the world map. This time, something new appeared.
Small green dots lit up across the globe—hidden enclaves, places untouched by the destruction. Resistance networks.
Jas’s heart raced as the figure’s voice returned, faint but resolute.
“Find us. Before it’s too late.”
The screen cut to black, and the hum vanished.
In the pitch-black silence, Jas and Roman stared at each other, the weight of the message sinking in. Somewhere out there, a resistance was waiting. But the question loomed: How much time was left to join them?