Dystopian fanfic inspired by the bonkers outfits of the Met Gala

Silver was the standout color at the annual Met Gala last night, as celebrities did their best to embody “fashion in an age of technology,” the theme celebrating the Costume Institute exhibit Manus x Machina. Taylor Swift wore a silver Louis Vuitton mini-dress. Rita Ora wore a metallic, feathered Vera Wang ballgown. Kim and Kanye wore a matching Balmain embroidered dress and jean jacket, respectively, while Kanye took it a step further with blue contacts. Some stars got creative: Emma Watson’s dress was made of recycled plastic bottles, while Claire Danes arrived in a light-up Zac Posen Cinderella gown.

Rather than ranking the best or worst looks, we’re more interested in exploring the very specific—and sometimes disturbing—versions of the future they suggest. Here are nine sci-fi tales of a dark, celebrity-ruled world yet to come, beamed directly into our brains via Kanye’s gray irises.

The sun has dimmed to the point that life on Earth is barely sustainable. The only other source of natural light—and of hope—on this frozen planet is the bioluminescent sea queen, Amphibia, who leaves her underwater kingdom but once a year. Humans cluster on the shore to pay her homage, only to die of exposure within minutes.

No one can remember exactly when natural selection tied the fates of birds and humans into one inextricable evolutionary knot. But we—and our parents, and their parents, and their parents before them—have never known a life without this feathered flock of airborne warriors, descending from the skies to exact vigilante justice and snatch any and all shiny objects that catch their eyes.

It was almost 1,000 years ago that former pop star Beyoncé released Lemonade, a visual album with an encrypted manifesto specifying her precise blueprint for world domination. Women were empowered, men were all but eradicated, and Beyoncé ascended to her immortal form. She now reigns forever in Givenchy latex specially designed to render her invisible to the few remaining male brains, which have been uploaded into robot bodies. These are kept in museums to teach children about the terrible past.

The High Priestess was the first of humankind to realize that each one of these tiny ancient artifacts—Tamagotchis, as the runes call them—contained the lost soul of someone who had once let the creature onscreen poop itself without intervention. Her ceremonial garb is adorned with not only a Tamagotchi, but dozens of keys, symbolizing the lost-to-the-ages passwords of her ancestors.

Lord Zayn earned his bionic exoskeleton on the front lines of the Third Droid War. General Gigi also saw her fair share of combat, but was largely unharmed. She did require a steel knuckle replacement after punching an entire robot battalion in their smirking silver faces.

According to the precise specifications of K1 and K2, every bulb in their RepubliK emitted a blazing white light ideal for selfies—but that light severely compromised the vision of its citizens, turning their eyes the same uncanny shade of blue-grey. The light didn’t have any affect on K1, immune from a lifetime of exposure. K2, on the other hand, believes his jacket and his jeans are the same color.

There are miniature beads all over the city-state of Balmain, having fallen from the pressurized space dresses that regulate the residents’ oxygen intake. When K3 came to power, she replaced the beads with serum-filled capsules of her own design. These would transform anyone who touched them into her clones. “If you can wear a 10-pound dress, you can do anything,” her daughter K4—who only recently learned to pronounce “Balmain”—explained.

The year is 2036. Little has changed, except that—under Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen’s joint presidency—the only government-recognized clothing colors are nude and black, and pouts are now the official currency of the United States.

Molly Fitzpatrick is senior editor of Fusion’s Pop & Culture section. Her interests include movies about movies, TV shows about TV shows, and movies about TV shows, but not so much TV shows about movies.

Tahirah Hairston is a style writer from Detroit who likes Susan Miller, Rihanna’s friend’s Instagram accounts, ramen and ugly-but cute shoes.