The Master Chief, John-117, is dead.
The Earth is in turmoil.
All authorities are gone, now only people and chaos remain. No more structure. No more routine.
Spartan Jameson Locke of the Office of Naval Intelligence has been found guilty of badness against man and sentenced to an orbital keelhauling by those that found him in the wastes.
Humanity occupies Earth and Earth alone. Its surface is glassed in most areas. Those that are not are barren. Wastelands of dust and echoes that roll into one form. No other civilation wishes to claim the planet, now that it holds no value. So humanity crawls among its own ruin, fighting nothing but insanity and each other. Deserts remain, forests have grown thick, and cast darkness deep, oceans dry.
We have no escape. Those ships that could leave have left, those that could have saved us have died. Only orbit can be reached with the remaining craft, and only some control them.
We are doomed.
This story will begin in one of the glasslands of the Earth. The location will be undisclosed until a later point. The terrain is scarred with blackness. Your goal is to reach the forest beyond the glass, several days away.
Take this world that I’ve set out for you, and make your mark in it. What happened to us? What do we do, those few who remain? What do we find out there amidst the dust and echoes?
I’ll keep an eye on things and make sure nothing unacceptable gets posted, but I may not actively add to the story too often, but things can change.