I’m trying to catch up with my stories for this project before I get into another fanfiction, wish me luck (and inspiration). I took from the 30s and the Great Depression for this story.
Times were tough. Long gone were the free spirits spending their money on booze and gambles. People could barely pay their rent and buy food, let alone buy tickets for something already doomed. A thick fog had engulfed and locked away any positive feelings as people began to work in huge factories that were quick to muffle any accident of severed limbs and deaths. Chain industry transformed the humans into robots, giving them numbers instead of names. Paul Bulman became ID 5891, and when 5891 got stuck in a machine and died, nobody cared.
Conatus 