This is Sfär. Here, the Germanic nations are a superpower.


Tonight, a storm blows. A heavy rain falls. And to top it all off, lightning flashes.

Below, the ocean's waves rise and fall. They collect precious freshwater that might have better business hydrating humanity. O well; sunny days will take from this sea what it can't keep for itself.

This is the Baroque Age of Sfär. Hence, the Catholic Church is as good as one of the Great Powers. Many can't imagine why. It's just a church, after all...

Through the storm, a longship makes way. It flies a sail. The storm is the only reason why it's out. Too bad the mast isn't extendable. But then, even it if was, a boat doesn't necessarily have to be tall to attract lightning in a storm like this.

Aboard, John Jones, is the sole crewmember. He works all night, keeping the boat from capsizing. It's always acting like it really wants to do that. And these waves just can't stop rising and falling...

Damn the rain. It's so heavy. John would complain about not being able to see where he was going...if it wasn't already nighttime.

In moments like these, he misses land...if not home. Ah, what he'd give for a handful of dust right now...just to remember how it feels...

He dreams of women with big hooters. God, how he'd love to bury himself in them, right about now...

From the sky, it comes down. A huge bolt of lightning hits the boat...and causes John to abandon ship.

The lightning is yellow. While flying through the air, upside-down, John looks right into the lightning. His eyes shine with yellow light. He can't stop staring at the light. All around him, time slows.

The raindrops are frozen in midair. The waves are frozen as high and low as they are. The bolt itself doesn't go out. And all around it, the flotsam and jetsam are frozen into place, as they were coming undone right before this moment...

The lightning dims, and time speeds back up. John flies overboard, and splashes down among the waves.

He finds a piece of floating flotsam, and grabs on. He's pretty sure it's a long way from here to land. It often is. This is a big ocean.

Far from itself, the remains of the boat float adrift. Much of the wood is charred. The sail has been ripped to shreds, as well as charred. There's also an English flag among it all...which John never flew.

Throughout the night, the waves rise and fall...as does the piece of flotsam John clings to. With luck, he'll find land. Without it... Without it...

He's very tired. He abandons the flotsam, and lies on his back, atop the surface. There, he floats adrift.

In the night, he'll undergo an extreme transformation. When he wakes, his world will be SO much bigger...as will women's hooters...