ETI: Earth

The Earth that humanity abandoned was subject to a "moist greenhouse effect," largely due to instabilities in the sun. Scorched for nearly a century, the planet’s environment was ravaged by unbelievably intense storms and extreme heat. Much of the Earth's oceans boiled into the atmosphere and then escaped into space, leaving the surface extremely hot and humid. The Earth is now a largely lifeless world, covered in steaming mud, industrial toxins, and the ruins of human civilization. While most of the planet’s biosphere has been wiped out, replaced by heat-tolerant fungi and microorganisms, rogue genetic engineering from before the collapse has given rise to a strange and unsettling new ecosystem.

The former temperate zones of Earth, once teeming with life, are now extreme wastelands where surface temperatures range between 120°F (49°C) and 150°F (65°C), with oppressive humidity due to water vapor trapped in the atmosphere. Toxic air, thick with industrial pollutants and fungal spores, makes these regions dangerous for any unprotected humans. Steaming mudflats and shallow, silty seas dominate the landscape, while violent superstorms regularly ravage the land, creating a chaotic environment of wind-driven erosion. These regions are now home to rogue bioengineered invertebrate macrofauna which have adapted to thrive in the heat. The ruins of old cities lie decayed and submerged in mud, scavenged only by those desperate or brave enough to risk the dangers of this hostile environment. 

Surface temperatures around the equator have reached as high as 170°F (77°C), making much of the planet uninhabitable. The equatorial regions and continental interiors are barren, lifeless deserts, while shallow seas remain only in the deepest trenches of the former oceans. These seas are silty and largely devoid of complex life, choked with extremophile bacteria and a few hardy invertebrates. The air is filled with water vapor, adding to the oppressive heat and creating conditions where unprotected humans quickly succumb to fatal infections from fungal and bacterial organisms.

As geneticists sought ways to preserve Earth’s lifeforms in the face of environmental collapse, some projects went awry; some might be deliberate, thanks to quasi-religious movements centered on genetic engineering. These experiments have spiraled out of control in the formerly temperate latitudes, leading to the development of giant invertebrate macrofauna that dominate the landscape. These organisms, intended initially as bioengineered solutions to climate change, now thrive in the harsh conditions left behind by humanity’s abandonment, albeit in small numbers. The most famous such creatures are:

Vermis Colossus (Slang: "Tunnelers")  

These massive, segmented earthworm-like creatures reach lengths of up to 25 feet. Engineered to aerate soil and break down toxic materials, they now tunnel through the steaming mudflats and decaying urban ruins. They are slow-moving but create vast underground networks, destabilizing the ground beneath them. Their waste material is highly acidic, further degrading the landscape they inhabit. Survivors often avoid areas known to be inhabited by "Tunnelers," as their movements can cause unexpected cave-ins and mudslides.

Aranea Magnus (Slang: "Netweavers")  

Originally designed as pest controllers, these large spider-like creatures grow to about the size of a small car, spinning thick, sticky webs across ruined structures. They prey on smaller fauna and can even ensnare unwary humans who wander into their territory. Their webs are made of a strong, heat-resistant silk, which some scavengers attempt to harvest despite the dangers. Survivors call them "Netweavers" due to their tendency to block access to old buildings and roads with their webs.

Scolopendra Ferox (Slang: "Rippers")  

These enormous centipedes, reaching lengths of up to 8 feet, were initially bioengineered to control pests in contaminated soil. Their venomous bite can paralyze prey, and their many legs allow them to move quickly across the uneven, toxic terrain. "Rippers" are highly aggressive and feared by survivors, often found lurking near crumbling infrastructure. They can tear through protective clothing and structures with ease, earning them their brutal nickname.

Lucifuga Obscura (Slang: "Shade Crawlers")  

Adapted to life in the dark, damp remains of underground metro systems and basements, these giant blind isopods can grow up to 10 feet long. They feed on decaying organic matter and toxic sludge, thriving in environments where few others can survive. Though generally non-aggressive, "Shade Crawlers" are unsettling to encounter, as their armored bodies make a distinctive scraping sound when they move through tunnels. Survivors often hear them before they see them, which has led to an aura of dread surrounding these creatures.

Carcinus Magnus (Slang: "Crags")  

Massive, crab-like creatures that roam coastal areas and shallow seas, reaching up to 12 feet across. These bioengineered scavengers were intended to clean up coastal waste but have since grown in size and aggression. "Crags" are territorial and known for attacking anything that ventures into their waters, using their powerful claws to crush through debris and, occasionally, equipment or vehicles. Survivors are wary of venturing too close to the coast, as "Crags" are particularly dangerous when hunting for food in the toxic, silty waters.

Achaeta Titanica (Slang: "Shovelbacks")  

These enormous bioengineered oligochaetes (worm-like creatures) have thick, shovel-like plates on their backs that allow them to burrow through both soil and urban rubble. Originally designed to help rehabilitate polluted ground, they now plow through what remains of the cities, destabilizing foundations and devouring anything organic in their path. "Shovelbacks" are feared because their tunneling often causes the sudden collapse of buildings or roads, making entire areas treacherous to explore.

The Arctic Zone

Small pockets of humanity continue to survive in the higher latitudes near the poles—especially north of 60° latitude. The long nights and days in the Arctic have become even more extreme, with months of continuous daylight followed by months of unrelenting darkness. During the long, hot days, the sun beats down relentlessly, baking the exposed seabeds, while the extended nights bring only slight relief from the heat. The auroras, intensified by the unstable solar winds, paint the sky with eerie, vibrant colors during the dark months, casting an unnatural glow over the wasteland. These lights flicker across the horizon, a constant reminder of the planet’s shattered climate and the unstable forces ravaging the Earth from above.

The once-frozen Arctic Ocean has receded to expose its continental shelves, transforming it into a vast, sun-baked wasteland. What were once deep ocean floors are now flat mudflats and cracked salt plains, with temperatures reaching between 85°F to 100°F most days. The shallow, briny remnants of the Arctic Ocean exist only in the deepest trenches, choked with extremophile bacteria and other microorganisms. Violent superstorms regularly ravage the terrain, sweeping across the dried seabeds, creating massive dust storms and eroding the exposed landscape. These storms, combined with toxic air thick with industrial pollutants and fungal spores, have made the Arctic an incredibly hostile environment for unprotected humans.

The terrain is littered with the decaying ruins of former military bases, oil rigs, and scientific outposts, half-buried in the silty earth. These relics of human civilization are occasionally scavenged for resources, but the harsh environment and rogue bioengineered invertebrates—giant heat-tolerant arthropods—make survival difficult. The exposed seabeds have also revealed deep canyons and valleys carved by past runoff, creating rugged, dangerous terrain. Geothermal vents, once hidden beneath the ocean, now release plumes of toxic steam and boiling water, adding to the region's volatile and dangerous nature. This new Arctic, a mix of barren desert and toxic swamp, is a desolate frontier where survival hinges on adaptability and scavenging skills.

Although still hot by 21st-century standards, these zones can sustain human life with proper technological support. Here, remnants of the old world—particularly in former Arctic regions—have become the sites of city-states built upon the ruins of old civilizations. These cities are often isolated, navigating the dangers of a strange new ecosystem while maintaining little contact with one another or the rest of the solar system. In contrast to the struggling city-states, the Free Luna Soviet maintains Novy Vostok, a research station in Antarctica, now a dry, lifeless plateau. With about 500 scientists and staff, Novy Vostok monitors Earth’s radically altered biosphere using drones and local instruments. The Soviet’s interest in Earth remains mostly scientific, though some idealists continue to propose re-terraforming the planet, a project that would require cooperation from the entire solar system. For now, such a grand effort remains speculative at best.

By 2500 AD, the remnants of humanity still living on Earth had adapted to a harsh and unforgiving world shaped by post-apocalyptic trauma, isolation, and scarcity. Humans are tough and adaptable, however. Most of Earth's human population, known as Ferals, live in small family or tribal groups at a primitive level of development. These groups are usually semi-nomadic, searching for resources and food and often surviving by raiding permanent settlements. Such people know nothing of the solar system or much else beyond survival.

Many other people live in fractured city-states near the northern poles, where the hot temperatures remain survivable. These communities have developed their own cultures, often insular and suspicious of outsiders, particularly offworlders. While some have turned to authoritarian rule or religious belief systems, the people of Earth are resilient and resourceful, making do with what little remains of their once-great planet. These surviving city-states near the Arctic Circle are built on the ruins of old-world cities and are fiercely independent. Though their specific history and environment shape each other, they share a common distrust of offworlders, who they believe abandoned Earth to its fate. Their governments range from rigid dictatorships to more moderate religious regimes, and they all struggle with the scarcity of resources like clean water, food, and technology.

Dvinagorod (Arkhangelsk, Russia):  

Dvinagorod, home to around 20,000 people, is built on the ruins of Arkhangelsk in northern Russia. Governed by a council of elders with religious influences, the city's residents view the extreme environmental conditions as a divine test of human endurance. Though religious fervor exists, the city’s pragmatic governance keeps it in check. Dvinagorod has recovered enough technology to exploit the remnants of petroleum and natural gas reserves in the nearby Barents Sea, scavenging old offshore facilities for residual fuel and industrial chemicals. These resources are vital to maintaining basic local industries, such as powering machinery and producing goods for trade with other city-states. In addition to petroleum, the city scavenges old industrial complexes for metals and equipment, which helps them maintain their infrastructure. Fishing in the shallow Arctic seas and harnessing solar and wind power supplement their industrial activities, creating a self-sustaining economy.

Nordholm (Tromsø, Norway):  

Nordholm, located in the ruins of Tromsø, houses about 12,000 people and is led by a militaristic but pragmatic Warden. Under a strict but functional hierarchy, Nordholm thrives on resource management and survivalist principles rather than ideology. The city's geothermal energy plants, some of the most advanced in the northern city-states, provide a reliable power source for their underground hydroponic farms and industrial machinery. Nordholm has also recovered technology allowing them to exploit abandoned offshore oil platforms along the Norwegian Continental Shelf. While they can’t fully revive large-scale drilling, scavenging operations yield useful amounts of petroleum, which they refine for fuel and other uses in local industries. Combining geothermal energy, hydroponic farming, and petroleum resources gives Nordholm a stable base to support its authoritarian governance and ensure its people’s survival in the harsh environment.

Nova Reykjavik (Reykjavik, Iceland):  

Nova Reykjavik, with a population of about 8,000, is one of the most scientifically advanced city-states in the northern regions. Governed by a technocratic council, the city maximizes its geothermal energy and sustains itself through hydroponic farming. Iceland’s natural geothermal resources have allowed the city to maintain a functioning energy grid, powering its infrastructure and modest local industry. Though the city lacks petroleum, it compensates by salvaging advanced technology from pre-collapse facilities, which they use to optimize energy efficiency and manufacturing processes. While they cannot access traditional fuel reserves, Nova Reykjavik’s ability to refine and develop technology allows them to trade technological expertise and equipment with other city-states. The city is also one of the few northern communities actively exploring the possibility of reconnecting with offworlders, though mistrust remains high.

Séverny Svet (Norilsk, Russia):
Séverny Svet—meaning “Northern Light” in Russian—is built on the ruins of Norilsk, a once-thriving industrial city home to around 15,000 people. The city is governed by a People's Council, a hierarchical body composed of the most prominent leaders from the city’s key sectors: mining, resource management, and local defense. The Vozhd (Leader), elected by the council, wields considerable executive power, but their authority is balanced by the Council’s collective decision-making. This system ensures that the governance is both pragmatic and distinctly Russian in its top-down structure, with a strong emphasis on collective responsibility and survival. Séverny Svet’s economy is centered around old Norilsk's partially restored mining infrastructure, allowing the city to extract valuable nickel, palladium, and other industrial metals from the surrounding area. These metals are the city’s lifeblood, fueling trade with other northern city-states and maintaining their essential technology. While the industrial damage from centuries of mining has scarred the landscape, the citizens of Séverny Svet have learned to adapt, using advanced scavenging and processing technology to turn the remnants of the past into their future.

Polar City (Barrow, Alaska):  

Polar City, the smallest of the northern city-states, has a population of about 5,000 and is governed by a council of elders rooted in survivalist traditions. Built on the ruins of Barrow, now called Utqiaġvik, Polar City has recovered enough technology to exploit the remnants of the North Slope’s petroleum reserves. Abandoned oil fields and infrastructure provide the city with small but valuable amounts of crude oil, which they process to fuel their fishing vessels and equipment. Although the city remains deeply suspicious of offworlders and other city-states, their limited access to petroleum has allowed them to maintain local industries, power basic machinery, and fishing operations in the nearby Arctic seas. While they focus primarily on survival through fishing and subsistence farming, the ability to extract and refine petroleum has become essential to their continued existence. Despite the harsh conditions, Polar City's isolationist stance and strong connection to the land have made them fiercely independent.

Borealis (Iqaluit, Nunavut):

Borealis, built on the ruins of Iqaluit, is home to around 15,000 people and governed by the Council of Keepers, a coalition of former tribal leaders, scavenger bosses, and resource traders. Borealis survives by adapting to the harsh new environment, using a mix of scavenged technology and old industrial infrastructure. The city’s power comes from wind turbines and retrofitted hydroelectric systems, but maintaining them is a constant struggle as the heat warps machinery and scavenged parts degrade quickly. The people of Borealis rely heavily on scavenging the old transport and military facilities around Iqaluit, salvaging whatever remains of metal, fuel, and electronics to keep their ramshackle industry alive. Fishing and hunting in the shallow, overheated seas are crucial for food, while old purification plants are reworked to supply clean water. The Council of Keepers rules with an iron grip, enforcing strict resource management and rationing. In this sweltering, resource-starved wasteland, survival is cutthroat. Life is defined by barter and brutality, where every tool and scrap of metal could mean the difference between life and death. Borealis is a city where heat and desperation shape every decision, and survival is all that matters.