"I'm Andrew Ryan and I'm here to ask you a question. Is a man not entitled to the sweat of his brow?"
-Andrew Ryan, founder of Rapture
An Audio Tape, found near the body of a man:
Static crackles as the transmission begins. The static fades as the gruff voice of a man takes its place, speaking in a quiet but steady voice.
"Today marks the first day of 1960, another new year in Rapture, another bloody damn year in this hell house." The speaker pauses, as if to gather his thoughts.
"I came to this city back when it was still under construction, more than ten years ago, I reckon. I can still remember how different my life was back then. Before Rapture, I worked as an architect for an obscure building firm in Rhode Island, underappreciated and extremely overqualified. I had no family, no ambitions, and no hope of making it anywhere in life. Then one day I got a call from a Mr. Andrew Ryan. He told me that he had taken an interest in my designs and thought I was squandering my talent in an unappreciative environment. He asked if I'd like to work for him on a 'special project,' the likes of which I'd never seen. He told me that he was building a new society where people like me could live free and unrestrained by other people. I thought he was an absolute lunatic, but with the amount of money he promised, how could I say no?
"Next thing I knew, I was on a boat sailing for somewhere in the Atlantic. I expected to be taken to some remote island, so I was surprised when the boat docked at a strange lighthouse in the middle of nowhere. Inside the lighthouse was a bathysphere, the kind of vessels that scientists use for underwater research, all brightly lit with cushioned seats and a music-playing radio. Against my better judgment, I got into the thing and suddenly found myself sinking fathoms and fathoms below sea level. As it sank, a recording of Andrew Ryan played, welcoming me to his city. He talked about the right of man to boldly reap the benefit of his labor without the burden of government interference or social pressures. It sounded great, a society where a man could be free to do whatever he wanted and not have to worry about what other people thought. It made me think about my work and how nobody looked twice at my designs because they were too 'unorthodox'.
"When I finally got my first look at the city, why, I couldn't keep my mouth shut. It was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Looming buildings stretched in all directions, covered in neon signs and illuminated with gigantic flood lights. Glass tubes stretched from building to building, giving it the appearance that it was all one large mass. And in the middle of it all was a building that loomed taller than any skyscraper I'd ever seen. It looked like a grand version of New York, except New York doesn't have fish and whales swimming around it. An entire city built underwater: it took me forever to wrap my head around it. I was still trying to wrap my head around it when I stepped off that bathysphere and came face-to-face with Andrew Ryan himself. He introduced me to the architectural company Wales&Wales and asked me to help them finish his grand underwater metropolis.
"Next thing I know, I'm designing underwater buildings for all sorts of purposes. I was free to do whatever I wanted and try totally new things because nobody judged my work. The ideas that my previous coworkers would scoff at and call 'impractical' were happily accepted by my new peers at Wales&Wales. Soon there were thousands of people living in Rapture, living in buildings I helped design. I was given my own spot in the company, becoming the president of a new division dedicated to fixing and expanding upon what was already done. I met my wife at a party celebrating the completion of Rapture, and we had our first kid in a hospital I had personally designed. I couldn't have been happier, the people couldn't have been happier. Everybody's lives were…perfect.
"And then it all went wrong. I don't know if it started with the discovery of ADAM, or the death of Fontaine, or if it all started on the night of New Years Eve. I don't know and I don't care. However it started, it ended in tragedy.
"I guess it really began when the gap between the rich and the poor made itself known. Rapture was founded on a philosophy of 'every man for himself'. Ryan detested charities and refused to help those who needed it. When the poor started complaining, he told them that they had to fend for themselves or be trampled by the feet of the mighty. Well, they weren't too happy about that.
"All of a sudden, this guy named Fontaine opens up a chain of charity homes, along with an adoption center for little girls. Fontaine was pretty notorious. There was only one solid rule in Rapture at the time: no interaction with the outside world. Ryan believed we had everything we needed right there in Rapture and that relying on outside forces was giving in to their ways and went against the very nature of Rapture. Fontaine gave this rule the finger and opened up a smuggling ring right under Ryan's nose. It was a good business. We may have had everything we needed right there, but it was nice to have some things from the outside world like records, movies, and bibles. After Fontaine opened up the charity homes, he was like a hero. Everybody loved him—everybody except Ryan.
"Ryan knew about the smuggling ring and he didn't like it. But despite his best efforts he couldn't do anything to stop it. When Fontaine opened up the charity houses it was like an intentional spit in Ryan's eye. Ryan began mercilessly hunting him down and finally managed to corner him. The next day word spread like wildfire that Fontaine was dead, shot to death by Ryan's goons. Spirits were crushed. Fontaine had become such a motivational speaker for the weak and small, nobody was quite sure what to do.
"Then came Atlas. He filled the void left by Fontaine like he was born to do it. Using Fontaine's death as an example of Ryan's cruelty, he stirred the people into a frenzy and became the new leader of the rebellion. Tensions grew stronger than ever, until the whole place resembled a time bomb.
"That bomb went off December 31st, 1958; New Year's Eve. I was at home with my family when I heard the news. There had been an attack at the prestigious Kashmir Restaurant. Kashmir was just about the most high-class restaurant in town, and only Rapture's elite were allowed in. Atlas' supporters had gone on the offensive, and the restaurant was the perfect target. With that one incident, Atlas declared civil war in Rapture. Now I've seen war before. I fought the Japs in the last world war, but let me tell you it was nothing compared to the war in Rapture, and I'll tell you why in one simple word: ADAM.
"I don't know exactly how it came about, but a little while after everybody came to Rapture they discovered a substance inside the bodies of sea slugs that had the ability to rewrite human DNA. Almost immediately, they found hundreds of applications for this substance, which they dubbed ADAM. Using ADAM, they developed numerous products called plasmids, which people could take to become…better. They had plasmids to make you stronger, faster, smarter, prettier, and anything in between. These plasmids became an instant success and suddenly anybody who was anybody started using them. Even I indulged in a little 'splicing', a couple plasmids to make me think clearer, nothing big. At the time it seemed great, anybody could become better simply by using plasmids.
"Well, after civil war broke out, people began to panic. Nobody felt safe. Everybody feared getting killed by either Andrew Ryan or Atlas and his rebels. People began buying plasmids that could make them shoot fire, freeze bad guys, and turn invisible just to feel safe. And then there were the rebels who used plasmids to become stronger and stronger in order to fight against Ryan's forces. Before you knew it, ADAM was the biggest money-maker in all of Rapture.
"Nobody really realized the side-effects of ADAM until it was too late. You'd see it all the time in the days before the war: people splicing plasmids like they were going out of style. The overwhelming need to keep splicing and splicing didn't strike anybody as odd. It wasn't any different than an addiction to cigarettes. But then the war broke out, and everybody started doing it. That's when you started to hear stories: a plastic surgeon butchering his patients, an artist wrapping corpses in plaster, husbands killing their wives. ADAM began destroying people's minds. Soon everybody was insane, and in desperate need of more ADAM. You'd begin seeing it in the streets: people tearing each other to shreds over a half empty vial of ADAM. Soon nowhere in Rapture was safe. People began locking themselves in their homes. My wife and kid…" the speaker stops midsentence and takes a deep breath. When he starts speaking again it is with a detached voice, as if he is trying to keep his emotions at bay.
"My wife and kid went out one day and just didn't come back. Those DAMN Splicers murdered them. I couldn't go after them; nowhere was safe. I was forced to lock myself in my house to avoid being killed. I listened to the radio, listened to how the city was tearing itself apart, how the streets were crawling with Splicers looking for any bit of ADAM they could get. Soon, even the radio went dead; nobody was left to man it. Ever since then, I've been trapped here, all alone, with no hope of escape." The speaker pauses again, taking deep breaths. After a few seconds, he begins again, his voice more controlled than it was before.
"You know, this city was filled with people. Lots of people. They all had their own lives, their own dreams, their own stories. And now those stories are dead, hundreds of miles and dozens of fathoms from any civilization. Nobody is going to know who lived here, what they were like, how they got here, what they strove for, or why they met the fate they did.
"I guess that's why I'm recording this. I don't want to be forgotten. I want people to know the truth of what happened down here, what happened to everybody who lived down here. If anybody from up there ever finds this God-forsaken city, finds it dead and empty, I want them to know that there were people down here, people who strove for a better life, people who didn't deserve to end the way they did. And I want to make sure that nobody ever, EVER, makes the same mistakes we did." A metallic clicking fills the sudden silence as the speaker pauses again to take a breath. When he resumes, his voice is no longer steady and detached, but a mixture of fear and despair.
"Rapture is dead. We're dead. Whether we realize it or not, we're all dead." Another click pierces the silence. The speaker gives another deep breath, this one longer and more unsteady.
"God forgive me." A loud bang shatters the quiet, followed by the dull sound of something heavy hitting the floor. Silence follows until, after a brief crackle of static, the transmission ends.