In the infancy of the 21st century, pollution was at a peak. Humanity was reaping more from the planet than could be remade, and in turn filling it with the waste. Rivers became contaminated and the landscape ruined by the various pollutants, chemicals and choking clouds of gas that spewed from the buildings of humanity. Governments across the world realized the threat that was encroaching on them, and moved to act against it, but the point of no return had long since gone. The ecosystems of Earth strained more and more to keep the world alive, but finally stalled dramatically. Sweeping dunes of toxic ash engulfed entire cities, preserving the bodies in their hideous pain-wracked state before they perished. Thick clouds of smog spewed from atmosphere, blotting out the sun and engulfing nations in its choking grasp. Declaring a state of emergency, each nation built self-sustaining mega-cities to be filled by their best and brightest. The Spires.

As the most celebrated citizens of each country were immigrated to these mighty towers, billions followed, begging for refuge from the self-engineered hell that had taken their friends and family. The Governors of the Spires showed mercy upon the masses of people, ordering the construction of habitats for them against recommendation, sacrificing themselves to control the city and make certain that the systems that kept the populace safe from the outside ran perfectly, at the cost of their lives. The Governor’s chamber contains nothing but dusty old corpses in rich finery; one or two may still be alive, but every second is wracked in agony. They are left in solitude. The final act before all communication was severed between the Spires was simple; to bring about the Peacekeepers, who would keep order in place of the Governors. They still hold close today, protecting the secret of the hierarchy and the Spires to ensure survival.

The lower tiers of the Spire are filled to bursting with people from all backgrounds; the only thing in common between them is the level of bitter hatred towards the upper classes; indeed, the divide is great between them and the higher echelons. Whereas the higher Spire contains the highest levels of care for each person within its walls, the lower has next to no level of it; people die alone from hideous diseases, their slum homes burned to the ground by their closest family and friends to save them. Corrupt lords take control of the sectors with lethal force; bands of thugs beat and maim people, robbing their houses and stealing people from the streets. But now the lowest fight back. Several weapon plants that produced items for the Peacekeepers have been overthrown and taken over. Now that they have access to weapons, the lowest are called to arms by teams of warriors all working towards the same cause.

The Rebellion fight for equality and freedom among all classes through any means possible, aiming to either turn the governors to their side or kill them trying.

The Peacekeepers are the mailed fist of the Upper Spire, there to keep law and order among the citizens. They strive to protect the Spires at all costs, knowing that the collapse of the Upper Spire would doom the entire populace to death.

You must choose whether you want to protect the Spires or remake them. Make it a wise choice; the smallest action can have fatal consequences.

The Thirsty Demon Bar was by no means a luxurious place. Situated at the bottom rungs of Spire #241, placed in the remains of Thung Yai District in southern Thailand, the Thirsty Demon served those who weren’t considered to be worthy of salvation in the eyes of those who worked to protect them; mothers, fathers, sons and daughters all deemed to be liabilities. The only thing that rescued them was the protests of those who were to be saved. But nobody knew it would turn out as it did.
The top layers of the Spires were made with absolute luxury in mind. The homes could take up acres of space, carved into marble, embellished in gold and silver, filled with technologies that made hardship a distant memory. These were home to those who bought their way to salvation; bureaucrats, world leaders, criminals, and the incredibly privileged. These homes were often reserved for a single person or family, when they could house a hundred.

This was how it was supposed to be originally; the rich in palaces, the important in homes, and the rest left to be consumed by the hell earth had become. ODIN, the AI that had been designed to regulate and control life in the Spires, was only designed to support a maximum of ten thousand people, but due to the protests of so many, the authorities responsible for allocation of people in the Spires took pity. ODIN was modified, and the massive areas designed for expansion were opened at the bottom levels of the Spires. The population for each Spire was increased tenfold to a hundred thousand people. The people were settled into the pre-built homes in the area.

But ODIN couldn’t cope. The AI snapped under the strain of ninety thousand more mouths to feed, to keep warm and entertained. The system malfunctioned horrifically, haemorrhaging resources. Districts of the Spires were choked under clouds of gas that had been used for respiration systems. Areas were drowned entirely in water. Massive power overloads exploded transformers and melted components, setting massive areas of the Spires alight with flames that burned for days. Most Spires deactivated ODIN, but some stood by the AI, only to lose everything. ODIN was replaced with councils of Governors, picked out of past leaders and politicians, to organise the workings of the Spires. The reward was simply saving the populations from the toxic ashes of the past world. They had to spend years inside dark chambers at the peak of the Spire, kept alive by various tubes poked into their body, monitoring screens and directing every action of the Spire.

The lower levels, due to the close proximity to the operations at the base of the Spire, were worst hit, and although massive pools of resources and generosity were poured down, the lower levels were impossible to return to the condition they once were in. There were few buildings left, and those that were crumbled soon after. Debris and waste filled the streets. The aid was withdrawn, and the upper classes returned to their regular lives of debauchery and idleness as those who were less fortunate were left making huts out of scrap metal, lighting their way with torches, a deep anger brewing within. They felt abandoned, much as they were when the Spires were first announced.

Over time, the anger grew. As a new society grew out of the wreckage of the old, more and more began to protest against the injustice they went through in their everyday lives, much to the disdain of the higher classes. After some time, the protests grew more and more violent, until a massive riot in Spire #443, situated where Al Hudaydah in Yemen once stood, resulted in the murder of several higher class civilians and the resident Governors, leading to a sharp decline in resources and the death of the remainder of the city due to the lack of management. This shook the Governors in the rest of the Spires that had communication with them, forcing them into action. The Peacekeepers were brought into existence; a large military police force to prevent another similar incident. Many lower class civilians saw this as a way out of the hellish lower Spire; the job came with residence, food, water, credits and a way to protect their loved ones; many higher Spire citizens saw this as an opportunity to seize power, becoming officers.

Those that chose not to join the Peacekeeper force were met with an even greater struggle; the officers of the Peacekeepers, so out of touch with the lower Spires, often led patrols through the lower Spires, telling the Peacekeepers to attack anything suspicious. The soldiers merely followed orders, attacking innocent people who they believed were the enemy. At this point, many of the lower Spire citizens took action.

Operating with weapons bought from the black markets than ran through the Spires, gangs of rebels began to fight back, attacking anything they perceived as a threat to their mission to reform the Governor’s council to bring justice to all. They would burn down houses, assassinate those in power, sabotage major systems and even attack other gangs and anybody affiliated with them, but the Peacekeepers protected against many of these attacks, often saving people’s lives.

Now, however, the conflict has reached a stalemate. A growing Rebel force is pitched against a more efficient and pervasive Peacekeeper force and now all that can be considered certain is that life within the Spires will change drastically.

Within the Thirsty Daemon, one Rebel group met regularly, grouping in the club in the back to plot. At the head of the table sat a lean man, wearing a tattered military shirt and jeans, covered in old military badges with various tattoos lining his body. In one hand, he held a cigarette, while next to the other he had a revolver. A dirty glass filled with various noxious fluids stood next to the firearm. Around the dark, filthy room, other members were sat down. One man was covered with slabs of sinew and muscle, chewing a cigar. He wore a tattered vest with the words ‘DEFF OR EKWALITIE’ crudely scrawled on in red paint and loose fitting shorts, with various scars across his body and a shaved head. A woman on the opposite side wore a sports top and old, dirty jeans, all dyed black and covered in flames. Her hair was tied up into pigtails, with various orange and red highlights placed into it. She drank down odd coloured bottles of spirits. Various other members were strewn around the club. The man at the head of the table spoke.
“Shall we begin?”

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