Nobody knows where the world went. It can't have just vanished. And yet, the evidence is there, incontrovertible. Walk to the edge of the city, and the road disappears. The fog just outside of town never lifts, and cars vanish from view just a few meters in. You can't even hear their engines any more, and nobody's driven into town in months.

We know some things still work out there. The self-driving trucks still show up, carrying groceries from the farms and products from the factories we know are still running. Nobody's starving, any more than they were before, and all the stores still have stuff on the shelves. The planes are all grounded, though; they vanish in the fog same as cars. Everything's slowed down a lot since the Fog rolled in.

A few years back, a couple of brave souls put sleeper cars on an electric train and tried to drive it by wire from the tower. That worked... mostly. Those who slept through the trip got where they were going, and most of them say the dreams eventually faded. We don't know where the others went. We just know not everybody showed up, and nobody who's gone into the fog comes back. The world just isn't there, or might as well not be.

We've got ships still, great carriers that are used to carrying freight and people through the fog. Open ocean routes don't seem to have suffered, but the closer to land you have to get, the bigger the risk that the fog will find you. The waters talk, moreso now than before. And they don't seem to take kindly to cheaters.

Of course, you give a group of bored and restless folks a relentless fog that disappears people, and you'll have folks testing the boundaries, finding what works, what doesn't. And all anyone knows for sure is that it depends. Sometimes folks can walk around in it for days untouched. Some have just vanished, soon as all eyes are off them. It's like somebody's in control, testing the testers, but to what end nobody can say.