In building the world of Dystopia, Jackwraith and I want it to feel real as if the story is unfolding across multiple channels through scraps of communication, archived footage, and found records documenting the collapse. The “Red Cross Release” is one of those fragments — a moment of awareness in a world where many have already looked away.
We want this to read like a discarded, desperate call for help. This is the unimaginable: a major U.S. city collapsing into itself, forming a sinkhole so vast it has created concentric levels where survivors now struggle to exist. The tone is bureaucratic, almost numb, as though the scale of tragedy has exceeded what language can express. Between the lines, there’s something haunting - a glimpse of how the world beyond the city views the catastrophe. To the outside world, Haven is still a humanitarian crisis, a disaster zone where relief agencies battle impossible odds. To those inside, it’s something worse.
Like much of the Dystopia story, this artifact isn’t meant to explain everything. It is a reminder that even in a world where everything is turned upside down, bureaucracy continues to churn, paper continues to circulate, and someone, somewhere, is still pretends they can fix what’s been broken (potentially) beyond repair.
The free weekly webcomic updates on Monday. Dystopia offers unique takes on storytelling through genre-spanning arcs set in a richly imagined, multi-layered world. Across its towering levels and shadowed undercity, you’ll encounter cyberpunk conspiracies, gangland rivalries, corporate cults, digital ghosts, and the quiet struggles of those trying to survive between the cracks. With each story, Dystopia invites you deeper—into a world that feels both impossible and eerily familiar. The world expands as you read, revealing patterns, echoes, and secrets hiding just beneath the surface. It’s an evolving experience that rewards curiosity.
