It was the year 2031. The apocalypse wasn’t getting better—only worse. Humanity itself seemed to be fading; sympathy and compassion had all but disappeared from the world.
It was one of those ordinary New York afternoons where everything felt slightly too loud and slightly too fast at the same time. School had just let out, and the sidewalks filled with students spilling out in clusters — laughing, shouting, arguing, already halfway into whatever they called freedom. Car horns cut through the noise, subway rumbling faintly underneath it all, and the city moved like it never really paused for anything.
Recently, y/n had been forced to move to Swellview after her parents expanded one of their largest corporate partnerships into the United States. The deal involved years of negotiations, investments, and long-term business development, meaning the family would be expected to remain there for at least five years. To her parents, it was simply another profitable opportunity. To y/n, it was another life ripped apart and rebuilt somewhere unfamiliar.