It didn’t happen all at once.
There was no singular moment when the world ended—no great explosion, no alien invasion, no dramatic fall of government. The collapse was slow. Surgical. Sanitized.
First came the promises.
In 2026, the Global Continuity Initiative launched a worldwide campaign under the banner of “Unified Immunity.” A sweeping, mandatory vaccine known as V-4 was introduced—optimized by AI, tailored to combat every known variant of disease, and designed to “enhance reproductive stability.” The media called it a miracle. The governments called it non-negotiable.
Compliance was near-total.
Then came the side effects.
It started quietly—fatigue, neurological decline, sudden cognitive breakdowns. But within a year, it was undeniable: birth rates were falling. Miscarriages skyrocketed. Entire city blocks became silent.
By 2029, over 50% of the global population had perished—not from war, famine, or even plague, but from a false cure.
What remained of society splintered.
The New Divide
Urban centers—stripped of soul but rich in tech—were overtaken by the New Continuity Authority (NCA), a centralized coalition of governments, AI, and private interest groups. Cities became hyper-managed surveillance zones where movement, thought, and reproduction were monitored 24/7.
For those who obeyed, life continued. Jobs still existed. Trains still ran. Children—those who could be conceived—were raised in Collective Care Units. Everything was streamlined. Sanitized. Peaceful, on the surface.
But far beyond the city grids, another class of survivors had emerged.
They were the unvaccinated. The rebels. The quiet ones who had said no.
They were the Sovereigns.
The Rural Resistance
Rural areas—once dismissed as “unproductive zones”—became sanctuaries for those seeking to preserve the old ways: faith, family, land, and life beyond a barcode. These were the homesteaders, the spirituals, the skeptics. They traded in seed, scripture, and solar panels. They built schools without screens. They gave birth in tubs and under trees. They refused the grid.
The NCA didn’t move against them publicly.
It didn’t have to.
Instead, it scanned from a distance. Drones swept fields by moonlight. AI bots registered the heartbeat of every child born off the record. And when fertile women were found—especially those who had already given birth—they were marked.
Not for death.
But for reproduction.
The Breeder Mandate
In 2033, the Reproductive Continuity Act was passed—silently and without debate. Under its protocols, fertile women could be detained “for the preservation of national stability.” They were relocated to specialized, luxurious containment environments known as Bubbles.
There, they were paired with elite suitors—wealthy, powerful men who paid handsomely for the chance to pass on their genetic legacy.
The women were pampered. Protected. Prized.
And pregnant, if the system succeeded.
The children? Raised in the Collective.
The mothers? Returned, sometimes. But not always.
Where the Story Begins
Now, in 2036, the world pretends it’s functioning.
You can still shop for groceries in a Platinum Sector. You can still send your child to school—if they have a biometric ID. You can still believe everything is fine, if you want to.
But for families like the Wrens, who live just beyond the reach of the city towers, freedom is a fragile thing.
Their lives are lived in rhythm with the Earth. In quiet prayer. In vigilance.
They are prepared. But they are being watched.
And what they don’t know is that the first drones have already marked their land.
The harvest is about to begin.