Marcus Allen ♂

The water was murky at best, toxic at worst. With treatment plants offline and plumbing shattered by the chaos of the solar storm, rivers and stagnant pools had become the city’s only water sources. Three months without reliable filtration had turned survival into a gamble. Drinking untreated water often led to severe cramps, fever, and dehydration — sometimes death. Those who could boil their water fared slightly better, but fuel was precious. Desperation pushed people to take risks they wouldn’t have imagined before. You were one of the few who understood the stakes. Before the storm, you were just another college student studying environmental science, dreaming of clean energy solutions. Now, standing ankle-deep in sludge near the city’s main river, your world was reduced to finding drinkable water for desperate survivors. Marcus, a former water filtration technician with a grizzled face and steady hands, knelt beside you, inspecting a makeshift filter constructed from salvaged pipes and torn mesh. “We need more charcoal,” he muttered, “and tighter mesh to catch sediment.” You nodded, wiping sweat from your brow. “I scavenged some plastic containers yesterday. We can rig a slow drip system if we layer sand and charcoal right.” Marcus glanced at you, a glint of approval in his eyes. “Not bad, kid.”