I wake up with the usual burning in my throat. The air here in Milan is unbreathable, full of fine dust. The window is closed, but the smell of burnt plastic still manages to filter through. It has not rained as it used to for years, and when it does, the water is acidic.

I take the filter mask and go down to the street. There are no more electric buses or public bicycles: After the 2038 energy crisis, public transport collapsed and only those who can afford the black market for fuel still drive. Through the city between abandoned buildings and advertising screens that broadcast propaganda. Since the European Union crumbled, trade wars between the new micro-nations have continued.

I arrive at the office, a semi-empty skyscraper. Much of the work is now automated, and those who remain cling desperately to a measly salary. We all know that the future will not improve, but no one has the strength to fight anymore.