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The excitement was palpable. The elites of Rapture sat gathered together, drinking, recounting, celebrating, awaiting the countdown to the New year. Things had never looked brighter for the top of the top, and it was only going to get brighter. It had been the risk of a lifetime, leaving everything behind. But it had paid off in spades.
It had been a fine evening of fine dining and fine wine. Everyone was dressed in their celebratory best. The chatter was far from hushed. Even the catering looked positively fine.

Then, it was time. All attentions turned to the large clock at the front of the room. The countdown was starting. Throughout the room, it roared, excitedly, in unison. Some clapped. Most cheered to another successful, decadent year under the sea.

Then, right after one echoed through the room, there was a loud, thundering explosion. Then several more, and a chorus of bangs and weapon fire. Jubilation turned to confusion. Confusion turned to terror. Splicers poured into the celebrating masses, slashing and shooting as they advanced. Screams of horror and pain mixed with the bangs and explosions and gunshots and hysterical laughter and jibberings of splicers, creating a disharmonious melody, near deafening.

The splicers moved surprisingly fast, and very few people managed to dive for cover before being slain. Some at the back managed a token resistance, holding off the splicers long enough for some to escape. Scared masses ran into the halls, seeking shelter elsewhere in the city.

It wasn't long before the entire room was mostly overtaken by splicers, very little resistance still holding up. Everyone that had been able to flee, had done so by now, and with them, word spread. It wasn't long, until nearly the entire city was aware of the disaster, now a tragedy.

Shortly thereafter, nearly the entire city. Those who left, did. Those who couldn't, were stuck. The once grand city of Rapture was now a tomb, and it's time was nearly out.