The great cities of our time have closed their gates to a world that is now a wasteland.
They have become self-sufficient isolated city-states, shielded from the harsh environment of a dying world, extending as deep into the bowels of the earth as they do far into the clouds above the surface.
What was once known throughout history as the island of Montreal, has become a behemoth tower divided into five sealed levels. Within the deepest recesses of the superstructure, live the scum of the hive: outcasts and survivors who feed off the wastes of the levels above.
Directly above them, the machines and the blue-collar workers who maintain them, crucial to the survival of the tower state.
These are followed by the bureaucrat levels where the white collars divide their regimented lives between staring into screens and partying under neon lights.
High above the clouds, a handful of gods rule over all the levels, aloof and oblivious to the suffering their whims inflict on the masses below.
One has risen from the depths, reborn into an iconoclast intent on revolution.
