#underground bunkers

Anyone for a luxury doomsday condo named the “Survival Condo,” in a Kansas state-of-the-art facility that houses multiple condo units—from full-floor homes to penthouse apartments.

DM me your email address rn and I’ll send you the first 10 chapters of my book. All you have to do is read and tell me what you liked.

(free book bro, how can u pass that up?)

She’s romantic, she’s scientifically accurate (kinda) and she’s autism coded as fuck. Dytopian? You know it.

Worldbuilding is an art 🩷 especially when you’re designing a 500-person, underground bunker with a eugenics class system.

This is the Standard Abider Quarters (Level 3). It houses two adults and their single child, the child living there until they are married and moved to to their own apartment. Unlike the other three classifications, Abiders cook their own meals.

Chapter 1: Part 1- More Questions Than Answers

They’d never let me go, but it was worth a try. There was a thrill to it, I think, but also a panic. My heart had never raced quite like this, so I kept my head down and slipped into the crowd.

“Name, sir?” The guard said as I handed him my security badge and placed my forearm into a slot behind his computer. He scanned the badge without checking it and didn’t look my way until something popped up on his screen. Just like that, he froze solid.

“Phylum Aberro.” I whinced when the machine inserted a identification chip into my wrist, then I waited for my badge. In the end, I had to pluck it from his paralysed grip. “Thank you.”

The steel walls of top floor echoed a hundred shuffling feet, the crowd murmuring with intrigue over glasses of bitter spirits. And when a lithe, mature woman took her place between us and the freshly dusted exit hatch, all eyes found her.

Doctor Mycelia Llorona, the head researcher and the reason for all this fuss. Her black ringlet hair was braided into a tight bun at the back of her neck without a strand out of place. Professional, flawless, she had to be for a day like this.

‘Thank you all for coming,” she started, lifting her chin. “Today marks a momentous turning point in our history, the first surface expedition in over 200 years. With the help of my skilled team of highly educated biologists, I am certain this program will bring forth a truly miraculous era for our people.”

As the group gave a measured applause, the accomplished woman’s charcoal eyes caught mine and she faltered ever-so-slightly. As the commotion between us died down, she glanced off to her superiors with subtle contempt.

Crap.

“Many things stand between us and success. Mostly paperwork...” She continued, earning a unanimous chuckle. “Still, I believe that this is the beginning of something incredible, something that will change the world.”

The anticipation in the room began to swell as our bags were handed out, stocked with equipment, emergency rations and first aid supplies. Those of us who brought a book or two for the road stashed our personal effects away before our leader stepped aside and the first hatch was unsealed. Marching past the engineers and guards as they fussed over ancient technology, it all set in. I was about to leave the bunker, and with the first airlock bolted shut behind us, no one could stop me.

At this stage in my writing, the bunker is a massive facility that was part of a university extension. Not only does its underground design save space, it doubles as an air tight testing facility for biological research.

The apocalyptic event that creates the new world is the result of a super volcano (inspired by Yellowstone) going off and flooding Catalyst into the atmosphere. Super volcanos have signs of eruption for years before they erupt, so while the powers at be hid the oncoming eruption from the public, they converted places like Phylum’s home into bunkers fit their top scientists and researchers.

Over generations of isolation, the survivors have developed a hierarchy system based on genetic health and academic scores. Broken up into four classifications, the people live under the rule of the highest achievers, being given resources and freedoms that correlate with their perceived value as people.

The class in charge are known a Nobles, and Phylum’s family has held that status for generations.

Okay I’ll shut up now. Definitely DONT ask me what they do with babies with disabilities and genetic conditions. I would HATE to tell you all about that.