#post-apocalyptic world

[rebelbikerdude]

A DOORWAY TO DYSTOPIA & TWO BACCHANALIAN BIKERS!

https://rebelbikerdude.blogspot.com/2026/05/a-doorway-to-dystopia-two-bacchanalian.html

This biker picture was created by me, RebelBikerDude, using AI, and is excerpted from my own blog, RebelBikerDude’s AI Biker Art blog, containing thousands of AI-generated biker pictures & video clips, accessible at: https://rebelbikerdude.blogspot.com/

[lovesodeepandwideandwell]

Can't find the post I made about how I'll never read The Road because even the briefest description of it used as an example in a nonfiction work is enough to make me weep, but it happened again

[roxy4ever]

I was pondering about why The Amazing Digital Circus (the actual digital world in the story) exists in the first place, and I thought: What if it's somehow a really messed up (and maybe far-fetched) situation where in their real world, the world has basically ended, and there's some sort of organization or machine who acts separate from Caine, seeking remaining humans to integrate into the Digital Circus? The reason everything is so colorful and "safe" is an overcompensating attempt to psychologically shield its inhabitants from the truth as much as possible.

[sheltiechicago]

In His Series Of Abandoned Places, Romain Veillon invites You To Travel Through A Post-Apocalyptic World from the new book "Green Urbex 2".

[black-suns-rim]

Ok, you know what? I am going to start introducing my non-yautja ocs on this blog (slowly)

This is "The Black Golem" or just Golem. He is a sentient war mech who lives in a post-apocalyptic world where humans are coming close to extinction. He is talkative, sassy, and a sweetheart (even though he will not admit it). He is the last generation of the war mechs before they were discontinued due to his line being completely sentient.

He is one of the main characters in this story I've been writing (that I'm hoping to one day turn into a novel)

[dreams-madeof-strawberrylemonade]

Howler and Howler's End... *that* part just makes me... see things

[iwhumpyou]

Masterlist.  Alien.

the vote.

~#~

Kushi adjusts the radio through all the frequencies, but she can’t pick up on anything other than static, and the faint sounds of soldiers on patrol.  She stifles a curse and glances warily at the other rooms.  They’re still dark, still silent.

Her family doesn’t quite understand why she’s so angry.  The Sanctuary is a place of hope, of safety, and two hundred new people pose a threat.  As it always does, as humans always react when faced with outsiders.

Kushi sighs and adjusts it to the frequency that their broadcast is on, even though she can’t hear anything.  “Anyone there?” she asks into the radio, waiting a beat.  “Anyone?”  Silence.

She sets her jaw.  “If anyone out there can hear me, I am Dr. Rao, a member of the Sanctuary Council.  To anyone who is planning to come to the Sanctuary - if you have an alien parasite, you will not be allowed inside.  The only treatment is experimental invasive surgery.  If this parasite is found to have reached your brain, you will be killed if you don’t consent to this surgery.  Please, turn back now.  There is nothing I can do to help you once you arrive.”

She waits for a long moment.  There is still only static.

Kushi exhales forcefully, and resists the urge to throw the radio at the wall.  Their haphazard contraption of wires and dented antennas won’t help her.  She needs a better radio.

She takes another glance, just to make sure no one is watching her, before slipping out of their quarters.

It isn’t far to the main building, and she avoids any patrols.  The locks are only on the doors that protect ‘sensitive’ material - the shielding that keeps the Sanctuary safe, Alexandra’s office, the hospital supplies, the storage warehouse.  The door to the control room is unlocked.

When she steps inside, a flashlight flickers to life and she freezes.  The control room is usually empty.

“Why are you doing this, Kushi?” Alexandra asks, tired and resigned.

“Doing what?” Kushi asks airily, mentally planning her own alibi - she was out for a stroll, she had a nightmare, she just wanted to check if everything was okay -

“I heard you,” Alexandra says flatly, and there go all her excuses.

“You also voted for a proposal to murder people, so I don’t think you can claim the high ground here,” Kushi snaps back.  She leans against the wall and crosses her arms, scowling in Alexandra’s direction.

“I understand that you don’t like this, Kushi, but we’re in a difficult situation,” Alexandra sighs, “They will die anyway if it’s in their brain, and they can’t get treatment anywhere else in a hundred mile radius.”

“You don’t know that they’ll die!” Kushi hisses, furious.

She’s interrupted by a voice behind her.  “Yes, we do.”  Kushi almost flails to get out of the doorway and Laden soon emerges from the gloom.

She moves to get as far away from him as possible, and he watches her silently.  Laden is a very good doctor, but he’s always given her chills.

“You don’t know that they’re going to die,” Kushi reiterates, “We know that Leon -”

“Leon is your shining example of their bright future?” Laden laughs, “I’m not sure he even qualifies as human anymore.  Either way, Dr. Rao, a walking corpse or one of Leon’s symbiotes, they will die.  Better sooner than later.”

“You will murder them,” Kushi says, gritting her teeth, “You’re supposed to be a doctor.”

“I am doing my best to protect the Sanctuary,” Laden says, no longer smiling, “Our home.”  He glares at her a moment longer before he nods to Alexandra and turns to leave, and Kushi is hit with a wave of resentment, of pure, condensed loathing.

“You’re a monster!” she shouts finally, as Laden is about to leave.  He pauses in the doorway, and she hopes the barb hit, hopes it sinks into his skin and holds fast, driving deeper with every slice of his scalpel.

“Yes,” he says.  His tone isn’t cold.  It’s defeated.  “Yes, I’m a monster.  I’m a monster, to keep you safe.”  Kushi snarls at that, automatically beginning to protest, but he whirls around, cutting her off.  

“I’m a monster, so that no mother has to press a gun between her child’s vacant eyes,” he snarls, “I’m a monster, so that no one has to make a decision between killing someone they love and watching an alien parade around in their corpse.  Yes, Kushi, I’m a monster.”

He takes a deep breath.  “Look around you,” he says, spreading his arms wide, “We live in a world of monsters.”

He glares at her for a long moment, exhaling harshly.  “We’ve always lived in a world of monsters.  The difference,” he says, his voice dropping low and intense, “Is that this planet is ours.”