"Commonwealth Common Goals"
In the final days before the collapse, a catastrophic solar flare (later known as The Great Divide ) split the United States in two. The flare scorched the central heartland, turning once-thriving cities and plains into irradiated wastelands. Satellites fried, power grids collapsed, and all communication between the coasts were lost. The nation plunged into chaos overnight.
Washington D.C., blinded by the loss of control, declared martial law across the East Coast. Panic spread like wildfire. Curfews, rationing and sweeping military crackdowns did little to restore order. Cities burned under the pressure of civil unrest.
Citizens rioted. Militias formed. Fear ruled.
In the midst of this collapse, NATO forces stationed in the region ( originally deployed for joint security operations ) staged a swift and calculated coup. Citing the failure of federal leadership and the unconstitutional lockdowns, they seized command of critical infrastructure, communications, and military assets along the Eastern Seaboard.
Within weeks, the United Commonwealth was declared. Formed from surviving NATO commanders, U.S. military defectors, and remnants of the federal government willing to adapt, the Commonwealth pledged to restore order and build a new society from the ashes of the old. Its rule was strict but stable. Martial discipline gave way to civil reconstruction. Trade hubs were reestablished. Townships protected. Law redefined.
To the west, beyond the irradiated scar of the Divide, there is only silence and rumor. Some say scattered city-states thrive. Others whisper of warlords and radiation-twisted horrors.
But in the East, under the Commonwealth's banner, humanity fights to reclaim a future; hard earned, disciplined, and forged in the fire of collapse.
“Unity Through Survival”
In the aftermath of the Great Divide, the western United States was left in ruin. A solar flare of unprecedented magnitude had ripped through Earth’s magnetic field, frying electronics, disrupting global communications, and irradiating a massive swath of land that split the United States in half. The central region became a death zone—silent, burned, and uninhabitable. With Washington isolated and the federal government paralyzed, the western states were cut off and left to fend for themselves. Famine, mass panic, and civil collapse followed quickly.
California was the first to feel the strain. Millions of refugees flooded its cities, and supply lines from the east—already strained—vanished overnight. Texas, armed and fiercely independent, shut its borders and fortified what it could. Meanwhile, northern Mexico was engulfed by the humanitarian disaster, with its own population suffering from crop failures and the collapse of northern trade. But amid the chaos, a new vision began to form.
In 2043, representatives from the fractured remnants of California’s technocrats, Texas’s military governors, and Mexico’s agrarian coalitions met in San Diego. There, under the constant threat of warlords and famine, the Pacific Triarchy was born—a desperate but powerful alliance between three former factions united by survival. Each brought something critical: California’s infrastructure and innovation, Texas’s military strength and industry, and Mexico’s agricultural backbone and manpower. Their union was uneasy, but effective.
The Triarchy quickly moved to reclaim territory and restore order. Armed convoys secured major cities and trade routes. Radiation-shielded zones were constructed, and the first megacities of the new order began to rise along the coastlines. Though regional autonomy remained, the Triarchy was bound by a shared Council—three High Governors, one from each founding faction—who ruled by consensus and necessity.
Today, the Pacific Triarchy is one of the most stable forces in a broken world. Its cities gleam behind fortified walls, its roads are patrolled by armored caravans, and its citizens live under the constant watch of unity banners that read: "Unity Through Survival." But beneath the surface, old rivalries fester. Each region pulls in a different direction, and whispers of civil fracture are growing. Even as they eye expansion into the irradiated heartland, the leaders of the Triarchy know: what was forged in desperation could fall in ambition.
A massive solar flare strikes Earth, crippling satellites, frying electronics, and irradiating a wide band of land stretching from the Gulf of Mexico to the Canadian border.
The central United States becomes a dead zone. Communications and supply chains collapse.
Martial law is declared, but chaos spreads faster than the government can respond. The United States begins to fracture.
California, Texas, and northern Mexico reel from the aftershocks. Crops fail due to atmospheric disruptions and soil contamination.
Refugees flood coastal cities. Riots and famine break out. Militia groups, rogue states, and warlords emerge.
Borders between the U.S. and Mexico effectively dissolve in the chaos.
Representatives from the California Emergency Council, remnants of the Texas Guard, and the Nuevo Norte Coalition of northern Mexico meet in secret.
The San Diego Accord is signed, unifying their efforts under a single banner: The Pacific Triarchy.
The motto “Unity Through Survival” is adopted.
Triarchy forces purge major trade routes of raiders and rogue factions.
"Green Zones" are established around key cities: Los Angeles, Houston, and Tijuana.
Military convoys escort food and medicine between regions.
The first joint Triarchy Council is formed: a three-leader model representing each founding region.
The Triarchy constructs massive shielded transport corridors through lightly irradiated areas to enable trade and communication.
Engineering divisions work to restore wind and solar power across the West Coast.
Triarchy scouts push into the Great Divide’s wastelands. Entire squads go missing or return mutated.
They make first indirect contact with factions in the East — including the rising United Commonwealth on the East Coast.
A covert operation by both the Commonwealth and Triarchy converges near the Missouri River in North Dakota, deep within the Dead Zone.
No one knows who initiated the conflict—but a gunfight erupts between forward recon squads.
Both sides suffer devastating losses.
Only four survivors emerge:
One Triarchy soldier, call sign Vela-7
Two Commonwealth soldiers, Ranger-Sergeant Eric Dunne and Field Engineer Lia Roston
Commonwealth Brigadier General Marcus Titus, wounded and presumed dead for 48 hours
Their joint debrief shakes both command structures.
They report being attacked by humanoid entities—distorted versions of people, capable of regenerating, cleaving through armor, and devouring flesh.
The survivors describe them as “echoes”—twisted human forms that remember enough to hunt.
Texas-based engineering units reclaim and refit abandoned military installations across Arizona and New Mexico.
The Triarchy begins producing its own weapons and vehicles, asserting industrial independence.
The Triarchy announces Project Greenwake, a bold plan to build a supply corridor through the Desolate Plains and "heal the heart of the continent."
Rumors spread of an impending conflict with the United Commonwealth as both powers vie to reclaim the irradiated Midwest.
Internal tensions grow between the three governors, threatening the fragile unity that has kept the region alive.
A massive solar flare erupts, unleashing cataclysmic solar radiation across Earth.
The American Midwest is annihilated—soil poisoned, skies green with chemical haze, and ground fissures boiling with subterranean gases.
The East and West Coasts lose all contact. GPS, power, and satellite networks collapse.
The crippled U.S. government declares martial law on the Eastern Seaboard.
Chaos unfolds as millions panic. Infrastructure collapses.
Riots, looting, and mass migrations overwhelm cities.
NATO forces in the U.S. activate contingency plans.
With domestic authority eroded, NATO units seize command centers and restore limited order.
Civilians initially resist but gradually submit to the structure and stability offered.
A new regime, the United Commonwealth, is declared from Washington D.C.
Governance is a hybrid of NATO leadership, former U.S. military, and civil planners.
Motto: "Secure the East. Stabilize the Future."
The Commonwealth clears key transportation lines, locks down remaining food production centers, and begins regional militarization.
The "Dead Zone" is defined as all irradiated territory west of the Mississippi.
No entry permitted—on pain of death.
In the West, the collapse gives way to a merger of survivors from California, Texas, and Northern Mexico.
They form the Pacific Triarchy, a pragmatic alliance of military remnants, tech enclaves, and cartel warlords.
Self-sustaining and isolationist, the Triarchy officially claims only Western territory—for now.
Both the Commonwealth and Triarchy consolidate power, rebuild infrastructure, and expand behind their borders.
The Desolate Plains remain untouched by policy, but rumors spread of mutated creatures, psychic anomalies, and towns swallowed whole by the Earth.
Both factions regard the region as cursed.
The Commonwealth initiates Divide Protocols—black operations into the Dead Zone to recover pre-Divide data, test environment suits, and map terrain.
Triarchy activity is noted but remains distant. No contact.
A covert operation by both the Commonwealth and Triarchy converges near the Missouri River in North Dakota, deep within the Dead Zone.
No one knows who initiated the conflict—but a gunfight erupts between forward recon squads.
Both sides suffer devastating losses.
Only four survivors emerge:
One Triarchy soldier, call sign Vela-7
Two Commonwealth soldiers, Ranger-Sergeant Eric Dunne and Field Engineer Lia Roston
Commonwealth Brigadier General Marcus Titus, wounded and presumed dead for 48 hours
Their joint debrief shakes both command structures.
They report being attacked by humanoid entities—distorted versions of people, capable of regenerating, cleaving through armor, and devouring flesh.
The survivors describe them as “echoes”—twisted human forms that remember enough to hunt.
General Titus insists the mission was not a loss but a revelation:
“Something’s waking up in that dead land. And it doesn’t care who wins this continent.”
The incident is classified Omega Black by the Commonwealth High Council.
The Triarchy publicly denies it happened—but their border watch doubles overnight.
The Dead Zone becomes the quiet battlefield.
Recon teams go missing. Drones transmit images of movement underground.
Some in the Commonwealth whisper that the Divide itself is alive.
The Commonwealth establishes Fort Last Gate on the Missouri River—a hardened forward base tasked with holding the frontier.
Commonwealth doctrine shifts from containment to preemption.
Triarchy patrols seen near the Dakotas are now treated as hostile without warning.
The Triarchy announces Project Greenwake, a bold plan to build a supply corridor through the Desolate Plains and "heal the heart of the continent."
The United Commonwealth condemns it as territorial aggression and violates the last standing communications treaty.
Skirmishes erupt near old Kansas City, but all eyes shift back to North Dakota, where Fort Last Gate receives a garbled transmission:
"Echoes breach perimeter... We are not alone... They're learning to speak—"
Communication cuts.
Both sides mobilize.
The war over the Desolate Plains may not be just for resources—but for survival against something neither side understands.
Scout the wild. Defend the people. Forge the frontier.
The Wasteland Rangers are the elite long-distance reconnaissance unit of the Pacific Triarchy—tasked with patrolling the badlands, charting hostile territory, and bringing justice where no one else dares go.
🪖 Uniform: Blue jeans, desert camo tops, and signature green shemaghs
🔫 Standard Issue: M4 Carbines—ready for any engagement
🌐 Mission: Recon. Rescue. Report. Repeat.
You’ll operate far from command, deep in the dust, where the line between survival and legend blurs.
Join the Rangers today and make the difference!
Enlist at your local Triarchy post or scan for a signal on the Ranger Frequency.
🔥 JOIN THE BLOOD EAGLES 🔥
Elite Shock Troops of the United Commonwealth
Forged in fire and baptized in blood, the Blood Eagles are the United Commonwealth’s most feared frontline warriors. Ruthless, unyielding, and born for war, they strike hard and fast—crushing resistance with overwhelming force.
Clad in black and crimson, marked by the eagle of war, these elite soldiers are deployed where others fall back. If you seek glory through discipline, strength, and domination—there’s a place for you among the Blood Eagles.
United Commonwealth Command needs warriors.
The Blood Eagles make legends.
Enlist today.
The Desolate Plains
After the Great Divide of 2041, the heart of the continent died screaming.
They called it the Desolate Plains now—what was once the Great Plains, a vast stretch of wheat and cattle, family farms and small towns. It had taken the brunt of the solar radiation when the skies erupted in fury, when Earth’s magnetic field twisted and buckled under the solar storm. The land had cracked. The air had shimmered green. And then it all began to die.
The radiation didn’t just burn skin or melt machines—it poisoned the soul of the land. The soil turned to dust laced with toxins. Crops wouldn’t grow. Livestock collapsed in convulsions. Groundwater boiled and escaped through deep fractures in the earth, hissing into the atmosphere in luminous green clouds. The air shimmered with a sickly hue. Anyone who lingered too long without protection went blind or mad.
People tried to stay, at first. Families clung to homes, praying for the rain to cleanse the land. But the storms that followed were worse—acidic and hot, filled with ash from cities burning at the fringes. By 2042, the last official evacuation convoy pulled out of Wichita, abandoning everything east to the Rockies and west to the Mississippi.
Now, only a few dared to cross the Desolate Plains. Scavengers in lead-lined suits hunted for old tech or caches of pre-Divide medicine. Some claimed strange lights danced along the horizon at night, and that the land itself whispered in a language only the dying could understand.
There were rumors too—rumors of survivors who adapted. Pale-skinned and light-starved, they moved through the haze like ghosts, eyes glowing faintly green, breathing air no one else could survive. They were either miracles or monsters, depending on who you asked.
But most stayed away.
From orbit, the Desolate Plains glowed faintly—an ugly green scar across the middle of the nation. A reminder of what the sun could do when it turned its fury on a world that had forgotten how fragile it truly was.
And beneath the haze, deep underground, the land waited. Silent. Toxic. Watching.