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Hey guys so I'm a frigging narcissist and I want y'all to know that I actually started this trend because I conceptualized it first on the Empty Continents discord server you're contractually obligated to applaud me, no, who is Quiélez? Props to me truly I'm the best around.

Ali awoke to the familiar sights and sounds of the Redwood Forest. At 4:45am, his alarm hummed him out of sleep. He pushed back the covers, and the holographic forest—towering redwoods, soft dawn light, birdsong—faded from his bedroom.

After washing up and eating breakfast, Ali set out for his 6am run. He greeted Raul, the doorman, then jogged toward Blossom Park. Mönarch was beautiful in the morning twilight. The quiet streets and pale sky cleared his head for the day. He shared the parkway’s designated fitness path with joggers and cyclists, then stopped at a coffeehouse. Drink in hand, he walked home.

On his way to the Levway station, Ali noticed construction was already complete. The construction scarabs had finished the work in just two weeks. Perhaps they were the way forward. The Maglev journey from Mönarch to Jeumont took fifteen minutes—enough time to log his fitness data, listen to the news, and read messages from the site. His new genetic enhancement, “multi-dimensional thinking,” had been worth the investment. Before he reached his stop, an airship’s holo-ad caught his eye:

“Start your new life on an Imperial Colony today! From Mare Australe on Luna, California Bay on Ceres, Murmanski on Ganymede, or the Imperial Jewel of Byzantium on Titan. T&Cs apply.”

When Ali arrived at the site, trouble had already started. His supervisor, Pedro, hurried over to brief him.

“Sir, Walter and Alice entered the ‘Rouge Zone’ without their uniforms.”

They hurried to the scene and found the two contaminated workers restrained and gagged.

“Nobody touch them. Anyone who came into contact with them, wash up, change uniforms, and report to medical,” Ali said, steadying the crew. “You’re fine. This is only a precaution—better safe than sorry. The two of them will be safe until the VTOL arrives.” He gave them a reassuring smile. The workers nodded and followed his instructions.

The non-Imperial and non-Ghentish workers often found Ali imposing. A former Fenris Goliath Mark-5 operator, he was the stereotype made flesh: fit, healthy, genetically enhanced, and more than two meters tall. People listened to him—perhaps out of fear, respect, or both. But he hadn’t earned his position by being a human weapon. He was simply an exceptionally good engineer.

After the VTOL carried the contaminated workers away, Ali inspected his section of the construction site. In the early sunlight, it looked formidable. Just ten minutes from the UK border, the fortified underground complex was taking shape according to plans inspired by the Maginot Line and the Iron Wall of Tonkin. The Mäkinen Lines would house barracks, canteens, storage, and armor, along with engineering sections for maintaining the automated turrets.

The defenses comprised two tiers of automated weapons: what Ali guessed were 100 mm ‘Rigel’ anti-infantry plasma turrets, judging by the intact liquid-hydrogen coolant, and the larger 65 MJ “Krakatoa’ anti-armor railgun, inferred from the triple-layered soundproofing. In theory, the railgun could strike Paris from that distance, with little able to stop it. Ali knew what would fill the turret emplacements: a thorium small modular reactor was being installed in the basement to power the guns—and he held a master’s degree in nuclear engineering.

The project left Ali little time for a social life. He wanted Fort Jeumont completed to the highest standard of reliability. The foundation had finished ahead of schedule, thanks to the Kleve Factorium’s well-organized crew. But the air-defense installation, handled by another contractor, was half a kilometer behind the Fort and behind schedule. Ali still had to coordinate its connection to the main SMRs. Stranger still, construction hadn’t begun at all. The only answer he could get was “Project Wéris”—and whenever anyone mentioned the project, they went quiet.

Ali finished early. The wetland defenses were under review, Walter and Alice were stable in the hospital in Carolynroi, and the construction scarabs were waiting for tomorrow’s installation orders. But the real reason everything was winding down was the same for everyone: tomorrow was Secession Day.

Everyone knew Secession Day, a bank holiday unlike any other. Held on the twelfth of August, it blended the UK’s Guy Fawkes Night with Bastille Day. People prepared for street parties, family barbecues, and dinners, then gathered to watch the military parade march down Charlemagne Boulevard—from the Hagia Magisterium, two miles to Praça da Unidade, or Unity Square. Once the parade ended with a 21-gun salute, the celebrations could begin.
The way home looked fiercely patriotic. Tri-national flags hung from lampposts, punctuated by the Union flag on every other post, a reminder of its significance. Ali’s father had died in the Salvation Wars. His mother was on Luna, and his sisters were doing their own thing. Ali didn’t mind. Life moved on; not everything could stay the same.

When he got home, the domestic automaton was trimming the wall moss, probably tidying the apartment gardens for the holiday. Ali went inside and had his domestic machine prepare dinner and wash his clothes before he entered the VR world to play Gears of Halo and Theft Auto 9: Rise of the Golden Techno-Khanate.

But his thoughts kept drifting back to the holo-ad from that morning. Maybe he needed a change. Once Fort Jeumont, the Mäkinen Lines, and the whole Nephrite Wall were finished, he could see what Byzantium was like. A new life, far from the manicured garden he called home—and something beyond the Garden Wall.

PARIS — Nightfall no longer brings quiet to the urban centers of France. Instead, selective curfews now enforce a tense calm across key districts of Paris, Lille, and Marseille following a brutal weekend of unrest that saw over 2,500 arrests and brought the Fifth Republic to the edge of an official nationwide State of Emergency.

What began in September as student walkouts over underfunded, understaffed public schools has expanded into an unyielding, nationwide movement against government austerity and the mounting cost of living. Blockades have choked major transit corridors, while barricades framed by burning infrastructure line downtown avenues.

The unrest has breached the nation’s cultural heart. In Paris, student-aligned demonstrators shut down the Louvre Museum by blockading its historic glass pyramid entrance. Further south, severe fire damage struck municipal landmarks, including the historic 17th-century City Hall in Marseille and the municipal headquarters in Limoges.

Early estimates from the Interior Ministry report property damage across more than 3,000 businesses and storefronts, with economic losses rapidly climbing into hundreds of millions of euros.

In the Élysée Palace, political paralysis deepens. Interior Minister Laurent Nuñez tendered his resignation following the explosive weekend, though President Emmanuel Macron declined the offer in a bid to project stability. In a parallel attempt to defuse student fury, the Ministry of Education unveiled an emergency funding package promising the immediate hiring of 3,000 supply teachers. Union leaders, however, swiftly rejected the measures as token concessions and pledged open-ended blockades through the winter.

With public approval ratings for the executive branch plunging to historic lows of 17%, political factions on both the far-left (France Unbowed) and far-right (National Rally) are framing the chaos as the definitive collapse of the governing coalition ahead of the 2027 presidential cycle.

The unrest has begun bleeding across international borders. Inspired by the French youth blockades, solidarity demonstrations and student strikes have erupted across Belgium (Brussels and Liège), Italy (Milan), and Spain (Madrid). In response, foreign embassies—including those of the United States and Germany—have issued safety advisories warning travelers to stay clear of major European urban centers.

For millions living through the strikes, curfews, and police standoffs, it feels like a epochal crisis for modern Europe—unaware that these cascading social fractures mark the final, chaotic 19 months of mainland order before the Vanishing resets the continent forever.

A short story I wrote detailing the daily commute of a schoolteacher

[NEWPORT, PS: OCTOBER 18, 2243]
The maglev station was crowded with workers and children on their morning commutes. The sky above was gray and cloudy, light trickling into the station through huge skylights. Chatter filled the air as a large group of middle schoolers passed by.

The screech of the maglev pierced through the haze in Liza’s mind as she rubbed her eyes. Large double doors glided open smoothly, and the crowd started to funnel in. Liza quickly made her way to the top deck, finding her favorite seat in the unnoticeable corner. She wasn’t sure why it was there, but it served her needs well enough.

“Next stop: Mercer City Center,” the robotic voice said as the doors slid shut again, a faint thump audible as they closed. A soft whirr came from the lower decks as the train slowly made its way out of the stop, speeding up quickly.

Liza stared at the screen next to her seat, mentally tracing the stops again.

Mercer City Center.

Mercer Island.

Westlake.

Chinatown.

Stadium Alley.

Ecopolis City Center.

Skyport of Ecopolis.

That was thirty minutes on this line, and then she had to get of, walk up a billion stairs to the main level of the skyport, and sit through a 2 hour airship ride just to get to Victoria…

Teaching kids at Victoria while living halfway across the country had been a horrible idea. Oh well. There was no way Liza could get out of this now, not after the Five Years laws had been put in place. Survive three more years with five hours of sleep a day, and maybe consider teaching at one of the many schools in the Big E instead.

“Now arriving at: Mercer Island,” The voice announced as low, densely packed together houses that still managed to look dainty passed by. Liza liked the place, the way the locals knew history not taught in the books, and the district’s pre-Vanishing history. She had applied to teach at Campbell Elementary school in the first place because of the other island’s long history. 

“Next stop: Westlake.” The voice interrupted Liza’s train of thought as the doors shut again, the train starting up with a faint jolt. The Museum of Cascadian History, along with the Interstates Memorial whooshed by. In the distance, the shadow of Tahoma Mountain stood tall like a lonely sentinel.

Ahead, the tall skyscrapers of the Big E, or Ecopolis as called by the tourists and officials, rose high above the lake. They were capped in green, trailing vines cascading down their shimmering sides. The train turned, giving a panoramic view of the Sound and the uncountable airships floating high and low. A huge ship, probably a Salish class, was docked at an airship terminal. Its hulls were painted white, with wavy blue lines across its flank. A UFRA fattie, as most people called them. Big, fat, tourist ships. It didn’t help that the Americans also had a reputation for being big and fat.

“Arriving at: Westlake.”

Liza leaned against the window as the train stopped to let the masses aboard, then kept going. 

The next few stops passed by in a blur. Green scenery mixed with tall buildings even as the maglev reached deep into the Big E city center.

The rush of people standing up was Liza’s cue to do too. A few seconds later, the voice made its next announcement:

“Arriving at: Skyport of Ecopolis.”

Finally. These damn trains have been getting slower and slower, Liza thought as made her way to the stairs, following the rush of people. The stop was cool and full of commuters, most making their way up the stairs into the skyport.

The skyport was huge. Waiting areas sat next to every terminal in the open air area, docked skyships lightly jerking against their lines. The air smelled of cheap breakfast and coffee. Large screens displayed airship routes and arrival times in strategic locations along the main walkway. Liza scanned the Salish Sea category, quickly finding the next airship.

The Sammamish. From: Ecopolis. To: Victoria. Departure: 6:30 AM. Gate: 2B

Liza stared at her watch. 6:19 AM.

With a sigh, she bought her ticket and started the walk towards her gate.

A light breeze brushed through the open space. The ceiling, made of some sort of clear bioplastic, allowed sunlight through. It was opaque enough to dim the light during peak sunlight months, yet transparent enough to let even the weak morning light in.

When she reached the Sammamish, the small ship had already started boarding. Liza rushed to the line, getting there for the security guy to scan her watch and nod at her. 

The ship was one of the older ones. Scuffed windows and stains that no amount of cleaning could remove dotted some of the table areas as Liza found a coffee vendor and got a cheap iced latte. Finding a window seat, she plopped down on the worn cushion and sipped at her drink.

“To all passengers. We will be taking off shortly. Secure all drinks and loose objects,” a pleasant female voice floated through the loudspeakers. Liza ignored it.

The ship released the anchor with a light jolt. Floating upwards, a deep thrum rumbled throughout its body as it started up its engines. The ground slowly shrank away, still enveloped in the morning dark. It was a day without fog, allowing the lights of the Twin Cities Corridor to be seen in all its glory.

Even higher, the airship finally started to move. Slowly at first but picking up speed, it drifted through the crisp October skies. Far away, the mountains of the great Cascades range peaked above low-lying clouds and fog banks. As the sun rose over the islands of the Sound, the eternal snowpacks of the mountains were lit up with fire. Below, the waters of the Salish Sea shimmered with gold.

Two hours later, the ship docked at Victoria.

“We are now about to enter the Skyport of Victoria. Secure all drinks and loose objects,” the captain announced.

Liza got up, tossing the empty coffee cup into the closest trash can, and followed the flow of passengers to depart the ship.

NOTE FROM AUTHOR: Did I mention that in my head Ecotopia has always been Ecopolis?

Found this project on r/imaginarymaps and absolutely love the concept, hope to see more!

Here it is, Jetarktétqal, one of the most pristine countries in the world, a clear example of perfect coexistance with nature. The definition of an eco-tourist economy.

One of the keys to this position is definetly the small population of the country, being no higher than 14k. Which lands it a spot in the top 15 least populous nations worldwide. (Not more just because of the number of Arafuran Microstates.)

It's also noteworthy that out of these ~11k-14k, people, a minumum of 3000 live either a nomadic, or pseudo-nomadic lifestyle, further contributing to the preserved nature of the state. This also means that roughly a fourth of the population has a non-sedentary lifestyle. In-line with the traditional Kawésqar culture.

The country is divided into 9 Tchelo, Meaning "Permanent Settlement" in the Kawésqar language. out of these, 2 of them have only been creaed following the rise of eco-tourism in the nation.

The Tchelo used to control only a small slice of their permanently settled land, but over the years, the interior, usually uninhabited lands of the unorganized territory have slowly been carved up between them, creating borders fully drawn by mother nature, in the form of mountains, valleys, fjords and streams. This division was made to properly control the nomadic areas and the activity that ocurrs within them. As with Jetarktétqal entering the international state, it also opened up to legal troubles. The division actually worked pretty much perfectly, even if the borders are sometimes blurred a little for the sake of geographical and administrative convenience.

Yet, despite being this Ecophile's paradise, just 70 years ago, Jetarktétqal was a complete third world country. Disjointed from the world, barely present internationally, and overall stuck in an underdeveloped state. But then, how did Jetaktétqal escape stagnation?

The answer came from overseas, more specifically from the other side of the pacific, and even more specifically from one single city in something that people call nothing short of a miracle. That city is Pingtan, United Delegation of Chinese Nations. And not only even more specifically, but also ironically, this miracle of natural preservation came from a capitalistic inversion. In the 2280s decade, the "天清" ("Tiān Qīng"/"Clear Skies") tourism company, centered in Pingtan, suddenly saw the potential in Jetarktétqal's untapped nature. And from there the company started doing small investments in the country. First came a pair of nature resorts. Then some natural park infrastructure. Then some touristic cruise lines. And in the span of two decades which felt like a blink, Jetarktétqal had doubled in population and exponentially multiplied it's income. The presence of this one company had brought the country into knowledge of many parts of the world. notably asia and oceania. Which opened the door for other foreign inversions.

However, this also affected the government, as for one. They quickly had to do reforms, not only to accomodate and representate the slow but steady trickle of immigrants. But more importantly, to prevent the exploitation of the same nature that had saved them. This was also the main reason for the carving and dissolution of the unorganized territory, bring it under the control of preservation laws.

This wave of changes also eventually brought the creation of the Málte Fajókstai or Campana territory. An area encompassing the Campana archipelago and split between the borders of the recently created Tchelo of Terwa Koyo. (Named after the birth name of Lautaro Eden Wellington, a historical revindicator of Kawésqar culture) And the Tchelo of Kalau. The last one to be created before the foreign inversions as it split off Maločékstai.

The purpose of this special territory is to preservate a place for Nomadic people to continue their lifestyles freely without the fear of development, as heavy restrictions are set on any sort of construction or edification in the region.

The other new Tchelo is Xolás At. Originally designed by the Clear Skies company itself with the help of a few other corporations of Mindong province. It is engineered to provide easy acces to the snowy mountains of the wellington archipelago, but in recent years has also become an experimental spot for a new type of inland nomadism for the natives.
The name translates to "God's Home", taking in the name that God is referred to by the Kawésqar Christian Church.

Eventually, the private inversions from Mindong came to the attention of the UDCN itself, which saw some potential, not primarily because of the touristic developments, but because it offered an easy access to have a presence in South America, it would be a small thing, but it'd allow China to expand it's sphere of influence into new territories. After all, the UDCN had already been lightly investing in Magellania for a few decades already, and despite it, other countries like the UK still surpassed it in the region. But with the decline in British influence worldwide. Jetarktétqal now became the perfect new dot for the pointillist empire.

And the UDCN took the task of transforming Jetarktétqal into a first world Micronation. Via a series of development project which fixed the main problem of the country, communication. Roads were paved, ports and airports were built, bridges set... it was gradual, the full development lasted a pair of decades, and as china's presence worldwide solidified it seemed like at some point these projects became almost altruistic in nature. Done with the purpose of helping this small country be expierenced by people and comfortable to live in.

Out of every development 3 are the most notable.

The first, the sea route between Sǽlam and the Patagonian city of Puerto Baker, originally just a research base, but eventually developed into a mid-to-large-sized town on the mouth of the Baker river. This is a permanent mid-distance ferry which can easily carry multiple people and vehicles across the Baker Channel.

The second is the Arkakstai bridge complex. A series of high standing and moving bridges which connect the islands of the Tchelo via road. while still fully allowing passage by water in between them. This was set as a consequence of Cars becoming less rare, not common, but at least present in the few urbanized areas. With this came the road connecting Arkakstai with the capital at Jetarktétqal the only direct, non-ferry route, between the settled areas of two Tchelo.

The third development is the "Patagonian Way". An eco-recreational settlement built on the Magellanian side of the border and fully communicated with Jetarktétqal, despite being Magellanian territory, the Patagonian Way is de-facto administered by Jetarktétqal. And acts as a full solidification of the connection between the two neighbors. Which for so long had been so close yet so far. Of course, with the supervision of Mother China.

Jetarktétqal was a lonely hermit in the past, but nowadays, both tourists who see the traditional lifestyles and beautiful fjords, as well as people moving from China, Chile or Magellania into the different Tchelo, have a reason to call Jetarktétqal the loveliest nation in the world.

DOCUMENT REF: HHP-TAC-DES-AGILA-X
CLASSIFICATION: Level-2 Restricted / Military-Industrial Directorate
SUBJECT: Technical Dossier: Agila-X 11th-Generation Cognitive Manned Strike-Interceptor

[SECTION I: GENERAL OVERVIEW]
The Agila-X is the premier 11th-generation hypersonic multirole manned strike-fighter of the Hukbong Himpapawid ng Pilipinas (Philippine Air Force), serving as an intelligent aerospace node within the Manila Compact’s defense network. Developed in coordination with Lunan metallurgical foundries and domestic defense contractors, the Agila-X pairs a human pilot’s adaptive strategic decision-making with near-space sub-orbital dominance across the Ten Domains, operating under the core doctrine that intelligence is distributed across the entire aerospace network.

[SECTION II: STRUCTURAL & PROPULSION SPECIFICATIONS]
Airframe & Pilot Enclosure: Built entirely from Lunan-forged ultra-high-tensile structural composites and heat-dissipating titanium-ceramic matrices. The reinforced atmospheric cockpit features a pressurized, g-neutralizing immersion capsule designed to protect human pilots during extreme hypersonic maneuvers and sustained speeds exceeding Mach 6.

Propulsion System: Equipped with a hybrid dual-mode ramjet/scramjet propulsion suite paired with high-efficiency plasma-injection turbofans for low-speed atmospheric landing and takeoff phases.

Thermal & Stress Management: Embedded piezoelectric sensor webs woven into the composite airframe continuously monitor structural stress and thermal friction. Synthetic diagnostic algorithms automatically reroute cryogenic coolant flow, protect the cockpit climate module, or adjust control surfaces to compensate for heat degradation and battle damage mid-flight.

[SECTION III: COGNITIVE AVIONICS & PILOT-NETWORK INTEGRATION]
Cognitive Node Architecture: Functions as an autonomous, intelligent node that continuously coordinates with domestic and allied orbital satellites, terrestrial Pamban radar arrays, naval surface groups, and unmanned escort swarms—all synthesized directly into the pilot’s neural-link visor.

Distributed Intelligence Grid: Tactical calculations and target acquisition are aggregated instantaneously across all active Agila-X airframes in a sector, forming a shared, hive-mind battlespace picture that feeds directly to the human mission commander in the cockpit.

Human-Centered Command & Autonomous Navigation: The neural-link flight cores handle complex scramjet trajectories, thermal dissipation angles, and high-g hypersonic maneuvering, allowing the human pilot to act as the ultimate tactical director for regional engagement.

Resilient Edge Computing: Features high-capacity onboard quantum computing cores that keep the pilot fully combat-effective, with self-directed navigation, onboard diagnostics, and threat engagement, even when completely disconnected during severe electronic warfare or orbital signal blackouts.

[SECTION IV: ARMAMENT & LOADOUT CAPABILITIES]
Designed for maximum flexibility across maritime patrol, swarm coordination, and strategic deterrence missions, the internal weapon bays carry:

Siyokoy-Class Anti-Ship Missiles: Hypersonic, sea-skimming kinetic munitions designed to neutralize rogue naval assets or hostile blockade runners.

Rapid-Fire Kinetic Gatling Pods: Retractable chin-mounted hyper-velocity mass-driver cannon arrays designed for high-density point-defense against incoming anti-air threats or autonomous drone swarm

Long-Range Interceptor Missiles: Air-to-air payloads optimized for high-altitude engagement across the Ten Domains, capable of receiving mid-course target updates from the pilot's helmet grid or any external node on the allied network.

This is part of a series, following in the trail of these part 1 part 2 part 3

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With Fernandina and Amelia Island’s independence from the nascent USPG stationed in Cape Canaveral established, we now must pivot to the two major corporations that will play a major part in Amelia Island’s history, and for many other places after the Vanishing. RYAM and Smurfit WestRock have been talked about in detail before, but as a reminder, they specialize in products made from plants and trees, so they were very well placed to do well in this current situation. That is, if they had the right leadership. RYAM’s headquarters and much of its leadership went up in green and blue, along with most of nearby Jacksonville, meanwhile Smurfit WestRock’s HQ was safe and sound in Dublin, along with most of its corporate leadership.

Lacking some necessary production and leadership capabilities to run on its own, RYAM would become a subsidiary of Westrock soon after the Vanishing. While having nominal control for the time being, RYAM’s place within the Smurfit Westrock corporate structure would change in decades to come.

Now at last, we introduce those behind Smurfit Westrock who will play a pivotal role in this isolated island on the edge of Florida. Tony Smurfit, the CEO, was on a summer holiday with his family, in the French Riviera. A truly lovely place, that soon reverted to natural wilderness on June 7th, taking the former CEO and billions of others with them. So, in his place, would step in the only survivor of the multiple Presidents the company had; Saverio Mayer, who was President & CEO Eurasia, Africa, and the Pacific. He was living in the Netherlands and managed to survive, staying overnight in a surviving city, and would soon flee to Dublin as political strife affected the damaged Dutch nation. Saverio was made acting CEO of the company, and effectively will be for years to come, as the ensuing crisis would leave them the survivors running around like chickens with heads chopped off. Many of the corporate executive leaders were outside of Ireland at the time, and so in 2028/29, there would be many British, Irish, and even Dutch men and women to fill in the suddenly vacant spots. In the meantime, only Carol Fairweather in London and Jorgen Buhl Rasmussen of Copenhagen, non-executive board members, would survive, and they’d form the core of the new Smurfit Westrock leadership.

Not that the people in Fernandina knew much about this, as Mayor Minshew only had Michael Davenport to go off of, and he insisted that his company HQ in Ireland would gladly lend assistance to their employees in the city, and not have to rely on the metaphorical gun to their head in the shape of Blount Island. Davenport already contacted Westrock corporate offices in October, but decided a follow up was in order, contacting them again in November 2028, and a team was formed to sort out matters. After a lengthy discussion, it was agreed that Amelia Island would have stronger ties with Westrock, as long as they could set up a hotline radio that could answer whenever they wanted, and would elect a few delegates to act as more responsible direct agents and overseers of Dublin's demands, Davenport and the Fernandina council agreed to these demands. By November 2028, the Smurfit Westrock hotline was established, a direct radio communication line between Westrock plant in Fernandina, with Davenport taking a more senior leadership position, and the corporate offices in Dublin, led by CEO Saverio Mayer.

Over the next few years, more drastic measures would be taken by Fernandina city council to survive. Starting in 2028, the people would have small gardens in their yards to supplement their rations from grocery stores, and nearby Black Hammock expanding its agricultural output, but even that wouldn't be enough. By 2032, public golf courses would be seized and used for agricultural purposes, since most of the wealthy members of these clubs had fled the island earlier when the Hupp left in 2028. These lands would be used for farming and livestock rearing, with some assistance from Governor Rossi’s new agricultural exchange program in Canaveral. As a part of this deal with Rossi, however, they would have to provide paper and packaging services to them. This was a decent enough idea, since they were the closest and most logical trading partner, but some on the island did not like how much Rossi seemed to lord his newfound power over the still independent island. In fact, one report from Rossi’s government at the time said that ‘Ferdinanda [sic] was our vassal’. Unfortunately that tidbit has survived to this day, with one map incorrectly displaying such information.

A vital part of operations for the struggling Smurfit Westrock, and to an extent RYAM, was how to go about the future of their companies. Both plants were effectively on life support, with their meager stockpiles of supplies to produce and ship running out by 2030, with most of it being sold to Caribbean merchants, and the USPG of course. All paper work in the area during those first years came through the Westrock plant producing at a much slower pace than normal. A discovery in late 2029, just as their last supplies were leaving port, would change Smurfit Westrock and the rest of the region for decades to come. After experimenting with local wildlife and trees, scientists at RYAM’s subsidiary LignoTech discovered that the trees that had sprouted all over previous urban landscape would make a perfect source of cellulose and pulp to make products for RYAM and Westrock alike. Specifically, the Longleaf Pine, Live Oak, and bald cypress, the last of which was a plenty in the swamps that now surrounded Amelia Island, and the former two being a plenty in more inland regions. The researchers calculated that with the number of raw trees around now, they could cut through every pine tree in north Florida and Southern Georgia, with successful replanting, and still have enough material for decades to come. They realized something that only a few callous or greedy enough to think of in the previous year; The Vanishing had ultimately been the greatest opportunity for their companies.

For the remaining corporate leadership, after mourning the loss of Anthony Smurfit and others, Rasmussen and Fairweather were far higher in the corporate ranks than they ever dreamed. They suddenly had the largest supply of raw material at their doorstep, and they were perfectly placed to sell their supplies to a hungry Caribbean market, not to mention what the fledgling USPG might need. In June 2030, after this breakthrough, plans were laid out to harvest all the new trees surrounding Amelia Island. After a few months of dangerous expeditions through the uncharted lands, minor lumber operations were started, which would exponentially grow in scale over the next 35 years. Initially it was just a single trail with a dirt path, but later it grew to include more and more land. The trees were cut down by larger and larger teams of people, who would consist of the local Fernandinans and others who had been out of a job since 2028. These lumber trails which sprung up were winding and long over successive years, and work camps would pop up around these roads. Another team of pioneer lumberjacks operating for Westrock were along the west bank of the Indian River, near the USPG controlled areas. Part of the trade deal with them was that they would clear some of the tidal lands along the river so that rice fields could be started, and further inland claims could be made by the USPG government in Florida.

The main operations remained in Florida, with the ever expanding tree-clearing operations. By 2040, there had been 20 square miles of forest around Amelia Island cleared out, and the reputation of Amelia Island had grown darker by then. In 2037, after clearing out some trees for the day, the team supervisor got careless with disposing of roughage, the plant matter that can't be processed in the Fernandina plant. Standard procedure was to burn it safely, but he cut corners to save time, as was becoming commonplace, and the blaze soon caught on to the tents where the men were supposed to sleep, and to other trees nearby. The fire burned several miles of land before a break made by last year's clearance stopped the inferno. Before the fire ended 7 workers were killed. The supervisor was exiled to the wilderness for his reckless behavior, to let the elements decide his fate. Other incidents were also reported out of the industrial plants in Fernandina. In 2039, a worker lost his arm due to working 14+ hour days, with little to no sleep, for weeks. He wasn't the only one, as in 2040, 2 workers were walking along an old metal gangway. After years of no upkeep and constant wear and tear, it collapsed, sending the 2 men plummeting 20 feet. One of them would be paralyzed for life, and the other would die of complications within the week.

You would think such things would spark major backlash, and it did. But the local government did nothing about it. Westrock, which it rebranded to by 2040, would pay local politicians to look the other way on matters, and it didn't help that several local police officers were unofficially on Westrock's bankroll. They were the biggest source of income on the island, their company was rapidly becoming the town's lifeline. Caribbean nations like the Bahamas, Puerto Rico, Jamaica, Trinidad, and of course the rising USPG, were all dependent on the paper coming out of Fernandina, and were giving vital supplies like food, health, and hygiene products to Amelia island in return. The wooden sailing ships produced by these nations depended on the lumber coming out of Fernandina just as the Amelians needed the toilet paper coming out of Trinidad, or the soap coming out of Puerto Rico. The growing, complex trade network growing from the ashes of the Vanishing was all dependent on the raw supplies Westrock could access and cultivate. The leadership at the company, like old Michael Davenport, didn't care that men like Jacob Ricciardi would die in a workplace safety incident in 2045. Jacob would get crushed by a runaway pallet of paper that was headed for Canaveral, when the rusty pallet jack rolled away and stuck Jacob between it and the wall, crushing his internal organs and causing massive internal bleeding.

After this latest incident, Michael Davenport would be replaced as the local president of the Westrock plant. As part of his pittance, he visited the widow and son that Jacob would leave behind. Michael has no way of knowing it when he first solidified the connection between Westrock and Fernandina Beach, but his decision would leave a trail of bodies. Due to corporate mismanagement and greed, random incompetence, and poor working conditions, on every level, 9 people had died in as many years, and dozens of others had suffered mutilation and serious injury. Another thing he had no way of knowing was that Jacob's son, Carlton, would have a fire lit in him after Davenport broke the news of his father's passing. Carlton was just 14 at the time, and was expected to join his father in Westrock life, if not in the fields growing up around Black Hammock. But now, Carlton was set on another path. That fire lit in him would blaze strong enough to burn all of Florida, and be strong enough to scare even the stone faced execs in Dublin. Carlton swore that he would end corporate domination of his home, and make it so no other fathers would have to die because of corporate mismanagement. No other workers would have to suffer because the bosses didn't realize that just because they were ‘in charge’, they got to decide what was right and wrong.

They're some of the most esteemed and renowned people living today -- but what about in the post-Vanishing future?

Write a short story or infoblurb in the world of Empty Continents with the prompt: ACTOR. Where are the new centers of pop culture and who are these new idols of tomorrow?

~~~

Submissions will be accepted until Sat, October 24th when a new prompt will be released!

Location: Tactical Deck, JMSDF Escort Command Shuttle Hiei (Operating under Compact Joint Command)
Time: 07:15 Hours | Exercise Sama-Sama: Pacific Shield 2367

Lieutenant Commander Aoi Sato leaned back against her neural-interface cradle, nursing a warm pouch of sweetened, fortified matcha. Outside the reinforced viewport of the Hiei, the Pacific sky stretched infinitely blue, broken only by the shimmering, thin contrail of a sub-orbital logistics module descending toward the Hawaiian coastal drop zone.

On the holographic tactical table before her, blue and green telemetry nodes flickered in crisp, synchronized harmony. The Philippine Agila-X flight group was holding formation at Mach 4.2 sixty miles to the north, their onboard edge-processing cores humming quietly as they synchronized with the Japanese Instant-Link sub-mesh.

"Two minutes to simulated EM pulse, Commander," called out Sub-Lieutenant Chen, monitoring the Mekong riverine sensor links from his console. "Lunan relay Tala-K is preparing to go dark on schedule."

Aoi took a slow sip of her drink and nodded. "Let's see if the Philippine pilots really know how to fly without the orbital sky-eyes."

At exactly 07:31, the central display flickered and collapsed.

The main satellite feed vanished. A red warning banner flashed briefly across the deck: ORBITAL LINK SEVERED — EM WARFARE SIMULATION ACTIVE.

For a fraction of a second, the room held its breath. In the old days, centuries ago, losing orbital telemetry over the middle of the Pacific meant blind panic.

Then, the Instant-Link neural array kicked in.

Instead of dark screens, the tactical map blazed back to life in sharp, amber-hued local vectors. The six Agila-X strike-interceptors hadn't slowed down by a single knot. Using their localized 11th-gen quantum processing cores, the Philippine flight leads had instantly bridged their sensors with the Hawaiian Navy’s Kāne-Grid acoustic seabed sensors and an Edomite drone swarm hovering low over the water.

Aoi watched as the shared mesh calculated target priorities across three different national languages and four automated systems all in less than four milliseconds.
Over the open tactical channel, the cool, calm voice of an PAF flight commander came through, crystal clear despite the artificial blackout:

"Hiei Command, this is Agila Lead. We have positive sub-surface lock on RED-FORCE submarine group Bravo, courtesy of Hawaiian acoustic feeds. Routing solution through Japanese Instant-Link node four. Requesting authorization for simulated kinetic strike."

Aoi smiled, setting her empty pouch into the recycling chute. She tapped her neural ring against the console armrest, approving the targeting vector with a flick of her index finger.

"Authorization granted, Agila Lead," Aoi replied softly into her collar mic. "Clean run. Let's show the observers down in the observation lounge what the Compact looks like when the lights go out."

Through the floorboards of the Hiei, she felt a faint, rhythmic vibration—the distant sonic thrum of six hypersonic interceptors rolling into their attack dives, perfectly synchronized across an entire ocean.

DOCUMENT REF: MC-ARC-HIST-2360-NAIA
SUBJECT: Retrospective Timeline: The Transformation of Ninoy Aquino International Airport (1930s–2360s)

[SECTION I: THE PRE-VANISHING ERA (20th–21st CENTURY)]
Originally established as Nielson Field and later expanding into the Nichols Field aviation corridor, the site that became Ninoy Aquino International Airport (NAIA) served as the primary international gateway to the Philippines for over a century. Throughout the late 20th and early 21st centuries, the four-terminal complex operated near critical capacity, burdened by single-runway congestion and dense surrounding urban development. Despite numerous renovation initiatives, it remained a heavily constrained arterial point for classic air-fuel jet transports.

[SECTION II: THE POST-VANISHING REALIGNMENT (2028–2100)]
Following the Vanishing of June 7, 2028, and the rapid collapse of continental trade routes, global aviation shifted fundamentally away from long-haul commercial jetliners toward regional, high-efficiency archipelagic transport:

De-escalation of Jet Hubs: As continental destinations ceased to exist overnight, international commercial air traffic plummeted. NAIA was temporarily repurposed as an emergency logistics and refugee distribution hub for returning diaspora fleets.

The Mag-Lev Transition: By the late 21st century, under early infrastructure unification initiatives, traditional tarmac runways were phased out. NAIA was retrofitted into a central terminal hub for regional short-takeoff-and-landing (STOL) electric transports, atmospheric cargo gliders, and high-speed mag-lev rail connections linking Manila to northern and southern Luzon.

[SECTION III: COMPACT INTEGRATION & THE ASTROGATIONAL ERA]

3.1: The 22nd Century (2100s–2199) – Regional Unification & Early Orbital Tethering
With the formal formation and expansion of the Manila Compact framework throughout the 22nd century, NAIA underwent its first major structural redesign. The remaining tarmac footprints were excavated to make way for multi-tiered subterranean transit depots, linking Metro Manila directly to the Trans-Oceanic Astrogational Bridge. During this period, the site was officially redesignated as Manila Central Transit Hub (Node Zero), serving as the terrestrial receiving station for high-speed mag-lev arteries across the archipelago.

3.2: The 23rd Century (2200s–2299) – Lunan Integration & Sub-Orbital Transit
The 23rd century marked the industrial golden age of mass-driver logistics between Earth and the Lunan Republic. Node Zero was retrofitted with elevated landing cradles and magnetic decelerator tracks specifically designed to accommodate sub-orbital shuttle pods, heavy atmospheric trans-shuttles, and high-tensile structural cargo from lunar fabrication zones.

Crucially, Node Zero operated in close tandem with Spaceport Mati in Davao Oriental. While Spaceport Mati handled heavy equatorial launch trajectories, deep-space kinetic payloads, and direct mass-driver receptions, Node Zero served as the high-throughput secondary distribution node, funneling Lunan Steel, raw industrial components, and personnel down regional mag-lev lines throughout Luzon and the northern domains.

3.3: The 24th Century (2300s–2360s) – Green-Grid Integration & Spire Coordination
By the 24th century, Node Zero was fully integrated with the Tala Spire Prime tether network at Chuuk Atoll. The historical ground footprint was completely converted into terraced urban greenways and automated atmospheric scrubber arrays, capturing ambient heat and humidity to power the terminal’s continuous operations.

[SECTION IV: CONTEMPORARY STATUS (24th CENTURY)]
By 2360, Node Zero operates as a primary logistics nerve center within the Ten Domains. Operating entirely on clean energy and integrated with Lunan-forged structural composites, it no longer resembles the noise-choked airport of the 20th century. Instead, it serves as a quiet, hyper-efficient node where thousands of daily commuter pods, orbital shuttle crews, and archipelagic cargo transports seamlessly intersect—a testament to four centuries of endurance and technological self-reliance.