Everything changed on August 12th, 2025.
An intelligent satellite, ECLIPSE, designed to save humanity, destroys it instead. ECLIPSE, standing for Earth Climate Limiter, International Project, Satellite Enabled, was built by government officials to...
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ROXY LET GO OF THE TABLE AND SWAM.
She heard a splash behind her and smiled to herself. So he did have ears.
"Towards the bridge," she yelled to him.
"Got it," he called back.
The bridge was a good distance away, but the water level was rising, giving Roxy a sliver of hope. As they swam closer, however, the bridge seemed to rise in height until it towered above them, menacing, radiating power. Moving beneath it, East River looked mystical and foreboding.
Swimming harder, Roxy pushed towards the bridge until she was afloat besides the foot of a pillar. The majestic column of stone stretched upward, far out of sight. The boy swam up to meet her. They stopped for a moment at the pillar, catching their breath. Roxy looked back at the city. It seemed totally abandoned. For once, NYC was empty, silent. She could only guess that the majority of the population had already evacuated.
"Okay," Roxy breathed, her voice sounding so loud in the quiet night, "let's do this."
She studied the pillar, looking for footholds, and, swiftly finding one, she pulled herself up, out of the water.
"Wait," the boy called.
Roxy scowled and looked at him. Her teeth clattered as the wind drifted through the air. "What is it?"
"What?" she repeated when he didn't answer. Mutely, he signaled for her to get down. She did so with a huff. "Seriously, what is it?"
The boy pointed towards an access ladder Roxy hadn't noticed. It was made of metal and ran along the height of the pillar, all the way up.
"Oh." Roxy wanted to slap herself. "I guess that might be helpful."
His reply was smug. "Yeah, just a little."
She ignored him and put a cold hand on the ladder.
Well? she thought to herself, What are you waiting for?
Taking a deep breath, she tightened her grip on the bar and started on her way up.
Climbing a ladder had never been harder.
The climb was slow and painful. Roxy shivered. The bars were ice cold and slippery under her fingers, which were gradually turning blue. The wind whipped her clothes this way and that. Looking up at the distance she still had to go, Roxy felt tiny—insignificant.
And foolish.
Toughen up, she told herself.
About halfway through, she heard a gasp and looked down.
The boy's foot had slipped off the bar. He now hung on with his arms and one perilously dangling foot, his face pale. As if sensing her gaze, he muttered shakily, "I'll be okay, don't—"
That's when his left hand and remaining foot slid at the same time.
Roxy froze.
His last hand let go, and the boy fell.
Watching him, her reflexes regained its senses and lunged, grabbing the boy by his wrist. They shared a look of mutual horror—the boy's gray eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open—before the two plunged back into the water.
Roxy spit water out of her mouth. Beside her, unharmed, the boy was laughing.
"I regret saving you."
It took them a while, but Roxy finally reached the deck of the bridge: it was crowded with abandoned cars. Roxy turned and offered the boy a hand up. He accepted it—his hands were cold—and the pair stood on the deck, breathless, their gazes cast over the harbor.
"So, what's your name?"
He glanced at her. "Rowan," he offered. "Rowan Brenning."
"I'm Roxy—Loch," she added. "Roxy Loch. Have I told you you're a bit of an idiot, Rowan?"
Rowan pretended to consider and laughed. "Maybe a few times. Nice to meet you too, Roxy."
Suddenly, Roxy spotted something odd. The coastline was pulling back. As she watched, it kept going.
"The coastline," she said. "Is it... is it the tide?"
Frowning, his slate-colored eyes flitted to the coastline. "It's not time for the tide."
"Then why is it doing that?"
Roxy's eyes widened. Rowan gave her a side-glance.
