The End We Start From

In a near‑future London choked by relentless floods, the city’s familiar landmarks become ghostly silhouettes beneath endless water. The storm‑driven chaos turns ordinary streets into waterways, and the ordinary rhythms of daily life dissolve into an urgent scramble for shelter, food, and a semblance of stability. The atmosphere is simultaneously bleak and intimate, a muted palette of submerged brick and flickering lights that underscores both the fragility of civilization and the stubborn spark of human resilience.

Amid this deluge, a young mother endures her most personal storm: the labor that brings her newborn son, Zeb, into a world already awash with uncertainty. The birth unfolds in a cramped, makeshift refuge, where the first cries of the infant echo against the roar of distant thunder. She clings to the fragile hope that a new life can blossom even as the city is being reshaped by water, and her fierce protectiveness becomes a quiet compass guiding her forward.

Her partner, R, navigates the same flooded landscape with a mixture of determination and doubt. Together, they must decide what home means when familiar walls are swallowed by floodwaters, and they are forced to seek shelter elsewhere—perhaps with R’s aging parents, whose own lives have been reshaped by the same crisis. Their bond is tested by the relentless pressure of survival, yet it also offers a grounding force amid the shifting currents of loss and possibility.

As the couple, Zeb, and a handful of other survivors venture beyond the drowned city, they encounter isolated enclaves that promise refuge while imposing their own rules. The tension between safety and freedom, community and individuality, fuels a quiet yearning to rebuild—not just a home, but a sense of belonging in a world that has been irrevocably altered. The journey ahead remains uncertain, but the promise of connection and renewal flickers like a distant lighthouse on the horizon.

Last Updated: August 09, 2025 at 20:18