On the horizon, a wall of black water rose. It was taller than the Maze Bank Tower, a liquid mountain capped with white foam. The wasn't just a rumor anymore; it was a reality that was about to delete the city.
The beach grew wider and wider as the water pulled back, revealing shipwrecks and flopping fish that had no business being seen. Then, a low rumble started—a sound deeper than any jet engine at LSIA.
As Michael pulled the pitch lever and climbed into the sky, he looked down. Los Santos was becoming an aquarium. The Del Perro Freeway was a river of floating cars and screaming alarms. Skyscrapers became islands. He saw a shark swim past a penthouse window on the 40th floor.
If you're looking to recreate this chaos, here is how you can get started:
"Seeing it? Dog, the whole city is screaming!" Franklin’s voice cracked over the line. "They’re calling it the 'Mega Tide.' People are saying someone messed with the city's weather code."
"Franklin, tell me you're seeing this," Michael muttered into his phone.