Others had tried before him and failed. Their so-called utopias now lay in forgotten ruin.
A middle aged man sat in a velvet armchair as he stared intensely into the roaring fire before him. His glare only intensified as he reached into one of the open crates that sat next to the chair.
He shifted the packaging hay and pulled the desired content; a hypodermic needle with the name "EVE" stamped on the front in big, bold, black letters. The needle itself showed visible signs of age. It was stained green and red from rust and exposure to the salty waters it once called home. The glass vial attached to it was empty, but the bluish tint that stained the glass gave clues to it's previous contents.
Setting it aside, the man fished another vial out the the crate. This one, large and filled with a glowing red liquid. Like it's smaller counterpart it had a name stamped on it in the same font and format. "ADAM" with the words"Electro-Bolt" etched underneath.
"Adam and Eve," the man mused with a harsh and bitter chuckle "a mere children's tale. Believed by adult sized children with power enough to pass it off as 'religion'." he spat the last part.
With a frustrated shake of his head he looked back to the vial. He now noticed that it had a similar syringe to the EVE hypo stuck to the back of it as well as a folded sheet of paper. Printed on it was a black and white cartoon depicting a man with lightning bolts coming out of his hands.
With another glance towards the crate he saw the "Fontaine Smuggling" logo, a symbol that years ago struck fear and respect into anyone who saw it throughout the criminal underground.
The man's lips curled into a cruel sneer.
The underwater utopia built by Andrew Ryan on the Icelandic Plate off the coast of Reykjavik, Iceland's capitol. Built on the belief that a man was entitled to the sweat of his brow. Welcoming the cultural and scientific elite to the city where they could work without worry of censor or moral restraint.
It was a good dream, but it was doomed and so, it fell apart. Smuggling, lower class anger, Civil War, and the so called 'Splicers' tore the city apart. His city. His Rapture.
The old man became paranoid and in the hopes of saving his beloved ocean pearl he became a dictator. A god. A king.
Even so this could not save the sunken ship. The man he believed to be dead, Frank Fontaine, had an ace up his sleeve in the form of Ryan's illegitimate son, Jack Wynand or Ryan, who he'd bought as an infant from his showgirl mother and brainwashed into the perfect assassin. One who would obey without question when he heard or read the phrase "Would you kindly....".
Using the guise of a Irish man named Atlas he guided Jack through Rapture and straight to Ryan. But Ryan would not let Fontaine have the last laugh. He told his son about his patronage, Atlas, and "Would you kindly" after he finished his explanation he ordered the boy to kill him using "WYK" and making a further point through his last words "A man chooses, a slave obeys."
Fontaine, now in control of Rapture, had no further use for Jack so he attempted to kill him. Jack was able to escape and the one responsible for "WYK" Dr. Brigid Tennenbaum, removed the mental conditioning from his head as a thanks for rescuing the little sisters. Jack was able to kill Fontaine with the help of the little girls. He then choose to adopt them and return to the surface.
Another named Sophia Lamb tried to assume control of Rapture, but was killed while her daughter, Eleanor Lamb, and her 'father', Subject Delta or Johnny Topside, escaped the now condemned city.
"Ryan failed an his city is dead." the man scoffed "Right wing extremist"putting down the hypos and turning to the box on the other side of the chair. It was noticeably older and had the logo of an angel with her arms outstretched on it. He opened it and pulled out a shattered porcelain face resembling George Washington. The other failed utopia.
The floating city in the sky that represented everything 'American' lead by the so-called 'Prophet' Zachary Hale Comstock. He knew less about this city as it has yet to be found by his workers. What he did know disgusted the man. "It's simple, they were undone by their racism and damned religious fanaticism."
He put the face away and stood up walking toward his desk. "They both failed and took their cities with them. Comstock and Ryan." He began to flip through a file on the rosewood desk."It was the right-wing and religious ideals." he stopped when he found what he was looking for, buried underneath building contracts and maps "Not mine. No. Ryan had the right idea not to limit science and culture, but he did not take it far enough." he held up a blueprint to the light "Not my Zion, she will surpass them both in greatness. Underwater. In the sky. No! My treasure shall be completely hidden from the unwanted. Underground.....that is where......"