In the wake of a forgotten storm, the world had changed. The streets, once familiar and vibrant, now lay submerged in silence, the remnants of life scattered like broken promises. He walked alone, his polished shoes sinking into the floodwaters that stretched as far as the eye could see. In his hand, a briefcase—a relic of a world that no longer cared for business, deals, or progress. The flowers floating in the murky waters were both a memory and a warning, their petals wilting under the weight of an invisible force.

No one had expected the end to arrive this way: not with a bang, but with a rising tide, swallowing the cities bit by bit. They called it climate change. But as he stood there, surrounded by the drowned hopes of a society that had once thrived, he knew it was more than that. It was the slow decay of everything they had built—the collapse of certainty, the fading of control.

The world was sinking, and all he could do was watch.