The Wasteland (v.2)

I've done water, what about desert? This is my first collaborative standard story, so make use of it wisely!

Stealing from climate change and taking it to the extreme.

The world is a wasteland. A desert. After the 2050 oil crash, the world's greenhouse gas emissions became to much for the world to handle. The targets were not met. People struggled for survival. The world became hotter, the weather more wild. Flash floods became the norm, hurricanes appearing over land. Nobody was safe. However, some survived, and from it, they built a civilization. Human instincts are overpowering though. More strong than the will to survive as a species was the will to fight one another for territory. Eventually, the world became a very dangerous place indeed.

Soon, people adapted. Set up safe areas, places of peace where no one could get at them. All they wanted to do was live. Trade routes were set up, cities connected by crude roads carved by the sandboats. Technology of the previous age became lost to memory, then legend. The world was reset.

"This just in! Explorers discover wreckage! Believed to be an aeroplane!" The town crier exclaimed, bellowing so the whole town could hear.

"It can't be, that's just a silly myth. Humans can't fly. End of story."  The woman replied. She often dropped into town, but no one there knew her name. All the townspeople knew was she took care of the bandits that harassed them, as long as they stayed out the way. 

"I'd beg to differ, miss. Y'see, aeroplane wreckage says it all really. I could tell you the co-ordinates and let you go see for yourself if you'd like."

"That I would."

I have been asked to omit the co-ordinates of the wreckage. Due to the events which occur there, it would be very dangerous to let the public know. Although how the town crier found out is anyone's guess.

The End

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