The Air

The humanity has fallen, drowning in it's greed and pride. The third world war, after raging on for five years, has ended with a nuclear gunfight between the most advanced countries. The atmosphere collapsed, causing almost all life on the earth to vanish. The only remnants of the living are on the great Keeps, underground mazes, powered by nuclear reactors and equipped with complicated air-filtration systems. Only the richest and strongest states were able to create those, as Keeps are not mere bomb shelters - they are technological and architectural wonders. This is not a story of a world that's ending - the humans are but bacteria on it's long dead corpse, desperately fighting each other to survive for one more day. But does survival matter in a world that embodies death itself? Food, different from artificially grown algae and fungi is now a treasure. Animals, other than rats and cocroaches, are now but a myth. Respirator filters are worth dying for, as the air itself has become a luxury, a currency, and a painful memory of distant comfort. In this new, miserable world, one's life is not measured in years - it's measured in breaths and oxygen liters. The currency of the Keeps is now baked on oxygen, the social rating is measured in oxygen usage allowed, and no life outside the Keeps is possible without a gas mask. This isn't a story about hideous mutants or eldritch phenomena - it is about people, who put their lives on a line each day just to find another pair of intact boots. This isn't a story about survival - this is a story about delaying the inevitable. But the truth is, once you take your first breath, it is already clear that one day, there will be last.