[ WP ] It 's 1925 and it has n't rained for 200 years . The only source of water is from clouds . You are one of the best water harvesters on earth with celebrity status , the world is dependent on your work . One harvest , you accidentally uncover the terrible secret behind the drought .

1725. 1725. That's the year everything went downhill. The rivers and lakes ran dry, crops started to die, and the rain stopped. For two hundred years we've lived like this. Many people chose to give up, if there was no water, how could anyone live? By 1726, our reserves dried up too. The world had no water, only the ocean was left. Undrinkable water, a spit in our face by god I think. Does n't really matter, because this Great Drought gave my family an opportunity. The opportunity to show how great the name of Williams truly is. 
 
 My name is unimportant, my past is unimportant, and my future is unimportant. All that matters right now is the present, and in the present. I'm a water harvester. One of the best really. The best. My job is to go up in my gas tank and gather as much water from the clouds as possible. The phenomenon of the water being trapped in the sky is disturbing and problematic at best. For the rest of the world at least. I'm the best there is at what I do, and I love it. Every single minute up here is everything I live for. 
 
 Today is no different from any other day. I fly up, gather my water skins and tie them to edge of the basket. The balloon rises up higher and higher, until I feel it. The wet. The glorious and stubborn wetness in these clouds. It gets cold, it always gets cold. I always bring a rain jacket, a commodity nowadays. I gather my water skins and put the tubes insides of them. Climb up to the top of the balloon and squeeze the sucker, letting in as much water as I can. While this is happening, I look out, I'll be back up here in twenty minutes, but this is the first ride. The first ride is always the best. 
 
 I just sit there, at the top of the balloon, looking down. Not like I can really see anything, not inside the cloud. I'm gon na have to get down soon, make sure the heater is staying hot, making the balloon rise, the wet could get rid of it and I go tumbling down, just like others. But, it's nice up here, slippery, but nice. I look straight up, incredible how I got here. But again, it is n't important. I just want to rest up here 
 
 The balloon feels like it's giving way underneath me, I pay no mind, I'm the best there is up here. Not much can happen to me really. So I stay up, defiant of this feeling underneath me. The basket seems to be rocking back and forth, and I feel it tip. Maybe I should n't have been so cocky, maybe I should've just been staying in the basket, keeping track of protocol. I do n't care, protocol does n't matter when you're the best. 
 
 The balloon drops, and I become enveloped in its fabric. Frantically, I reach out to grab onto something, to anything, and I feel something. Cold and wet, but solid. I grab it, hold onto it, it's my lifeline, the only thing keeping me from plummeting and breaking into a million pieces. Cold and wet, but solid. I try to move up, use the object to pull my body weight and I do. But what I see is n't right. An off-white hand is what I'm holding onto, and an arm attached to it, disappearing into the clouds. And then I look to my left, and I see it, for the first time in two hundred years, there is rain falling down. Rain. And then, I fall into darkness.
