Deathly, ethereal silence fills the streets of a towering industrial park-smoke and dancing embers winding between factories down the southwestern coast of Japan. Uniformed corpses litter the sidewalks, bleeding into the concrete, spilling out into the roads. Their lifeless eyes gaze into the void of the night sky as two men fight at the brink of a shattered port, consumed by war.
Rearing his hand back, fingers gripped around the finely-engraved handle of a combat knife, one of the two men charges forward-scattered, precious rays of moonlight emblazoning the flag of the USA on the bicep of his bloodied fatigues. He swipes at his opponent, causing the second man to stumble into a parallel stroke of moonlight, highlighting the flag of the People's Republic of China stamped against his breast. The Chinese soldier weaves to one side, bringing his own serrated combat knife down around an attempted parry from the American, sinking the blade into his neck and sending them both toppling onto the floorboards.
As the American soldier gasps repeatedly, coughing up spurts of blood that drool over the corners of his mouth, the victor removes the weapon and stares down at him. Soaked hands trembling. Tears funneling along the curvature of his jaw. His head lowers as he attempts to recover his stamina, but an explosion of light along the East China Sea causes him to turn his attention to the distance in a fit. Four consecutive missiles scream over the horizon, arcing into Japan, and a raucous cataclysm echoes tales of power throughout the country behind them.
The Chinese soldier begins hyperventilating, prompting his American opponent to grab him by the hand and crack a comforting smile as the last lights of his spirit fade from his eyes. His killer smiles in return. Atomic fire barrels through the park. The towering factories explode under the raw, concussive force of the blast, the shattered port collapses into the inky-black waters below, and irradiated debris rains down from the amber-lit abyss of the night sky.
October 23rd, 2077. The day the Great War came to an end.
It had been years of fighting that led to the combined American and Chinese invasion of Japan, both sides battling for the fate of their nation. Both fated to perish in the apocalypse of their own creation. My grandfather was one of the survivors, sealed away underground in one of many shelters built by the Japanese government. He faced strange and dangerous conditions that plagued the outside world, working hard to pry stability from the ruins for his family's sake-and for the most part, he had been successful. Peace, no matter how different it was from what the world had enjoyed before the war, was on its way back in Japan, and things were getting better...but it wasn't meant to last.
Last year, snow began to fall. Strange snow that glowed, and the sky became locked in a dark stasis. People began dying from exposure to the irradiated snowfall and the temperatures dropped. Crops failed, famine struck our communities, and raider attacks became more frequent. More desperate. In the end, only one settlement was left standing: Shin Sekai. A maze of a city built out of an Osaka metro station, completely sealed off from the outside world.
We all have a job to do here. We all contribute to the wellbeing of the city any way we can, and the Tempest Guard keeps us safe from the dangers that lurk in the radioactive blizzards raging outside our walls. But it isn't enough. Famine continues to starve us out, whittling us down little-by-little, and unless we can reclaim the territory we've lost from the jaws of the "Great Winter," the last-lit flame of Japan will be snuffed out in the cold.