Thousand-year flood

The alarm wasn't supposed to go off yet, but my smartphone sounded that way. And it wasn't my standard sound for alerting me (or waking me up), but an even more important beeping from the mobile application MUNIPOLIS which was set to checking for local dangers! According to it, a large flood in Prague started on Sunday morning, 2 June, 2013.

The sky had been crying water for days. It was a dull gray that thickened into a mass of angry, roiling clouds. I already predicted what was coming, because of my inborn ability of Precognition, which was enhanced while also put under control thanks to my years of training in Ninpo, where intuition and awareness were sharpened to their finest edges. We had heard about the thousand-year flood in the year 2002 in the Czech Republic, and this time felt the same! There was a tension in the air, an electric pulse that vibrated with unnatural energy.

It wasn’t until the river Vltava began swallowing its banks that the gravity of the situation fully hit us. I, along with my dedicated Ninpo students, had been preparing in my dojo (https://www.bujinkanprague.com) that Sunday morning, practicing our usual drills. As soon as I learned the basic information about the flood from the application, I gathered my students, their faces a mixture of concern and determination. These weren’t just martial artists; they were warriors of the spirit, trained to keep calm in the face of any disaster.I knew that today, more than ever, their training would be tested in a way they had never imagined. We took ropes with grappling hooks (grapnels), first aid kits, walkie-talkies and other gear of modern ninjas, but we left our weapons in the dojo. We know that no weapon could help against the wrath of nature. Dressed in our citizen clothes, our group was looking like just some people prepared to rescue.

As we rushed to the banks of the Vltava, the city was already transforming. Water was creeping through the streets like some slow-moving beast, but the rain from above was anything but slow. It came down in sheets, pounding with the force of a thousand fists, each dropping a hammer against the pavement. Lightning cracked the sky like an executioner’s whip, jagged and unpredictable, splitting the heavens wide open. The storm above was unlike anything any of us had ever seen. 

The streets of Prague, usually filled with the lively hum of tourists and locals, were now eerie and silent, save for the rush of water and the occasional crack of thunder that rattled the buildings. As we made our way to the safety boats provided by the emergency services, it became clear that the city was being overtaken. The floodwaters were unlike anything in a thousand years of recorded history, an event that would be remembered for another millennium. Streets nearer to Vltava that were once bustling with life had transformed into murky rivers, the water now waist-deep and rising quickly. 

I ordered my students to stay sharp. They were scattered around the boats, ready to act at a moment’s notice. Each of them was soaked to the bone, the storm thrashing us with unrelenting force. But they stayed focused. That’s what they were trained to do — focus through chaos, maintain clarity in the storm, both metaphorical and literal.

As we navigated through the peopleless streets, now submerged beneath the rising flood, we saw a few citizens who had not yet been evacuated waving from the upper windows of their homes in just one-floored houses without access to roofs, desperate for help. Their fear was palpable, eyes wide with terror as they clung to anything solid in their rapidly crumbling world. The water churned around us, dark and filled with debris — shattered glass, fallen branches, remnants of lives now displaced by the relentless surge. 

We pulled the boats as close as we could to the houses. The water had already risen halfway up the first floor. One of my students, Miroslav, leapt out onto the railing of the submerged porch, moving with the precise grace of a ninja, his every step measured even in the face of this chaos. He grabbed the elderly couple who had been trapped inside and landed them carefully in “his” boat. Their faces were pale, their hands shaking, but there was a flicker of hope in their eyes as they realized they would survive.

But the storm wasn’t done with the poor city yet. 

Lightning tore through the sky, and I heard the sickening crack as a bolt struck one of the nearby buildings! Sparks flew as the electrical wires, now submerged in water, hissed and fizzled, igniting small fires that were quickly snuffed out by the torrent of rain. The once stable buildings were no longer grounded — the flood had turned them into dangerous electrical traps. I could feel the charge in the air, the hairs on my arms standing up with every flash of light. This storm was more than just bad weather; it was a beast of nature, unrelenting and unforgiving.

A deafening roar echoed through the street as part of a building crumbled into the floodwater, sending a massive wave toward us. I shouted a warning to my students just in time. With practiced agility, they braced themselves, and we were able to steer the boats through the wall of water. But it left me rattled. Every moment felt like a tightrope walk between relative safety and sure disaster. 

The sky above us boiled, thick black clouds swirling like some malevolent force. The air was thick with moisture, the pressure of the storm pressing down on us like a giant hand. I could feel the Vltava rising, the river no longer just a river but a force of nature, consuming everything in its path.

We reached another house, and there was a family with small children. Their cries were barely audible over the howling wind and crashing thunder. My student Petra, known for her caregiver attitude and calm demeanor, climbed into the house and gathered the children with a maternal grace. Then with my help, we saved the terrified parents. Even in this chaos, Petra, whose first name means rock, maintained the steady focus of our Ninpo training. She moved as if the floodwaters and storm were mere distractions, her mind locked on the task of saving these innocent lives.

But there was little time to rest. The storm was intensifying, and the water levels were rising at an alarming rate. The city’s power grid was failing; entire blocks were dark, save for the flickering of emergency lights struggling to stay on. I could feel the tension growing within my students, the same fear gnawing at the edges of my mind. 

Then, out of nowhere, a massive bolt of lightning struck a nearby transformer, sending a shockwave through the water that caused the nearest boat to turn violently! One of my students, Jan, was thrown into the water. The current immediately began to pull him under. Without hesitation, I dove in after him, my body slicing through the cold, murky water. I could barely see through the deluge, but I could sense where Jan was. Years of training had honed my instincts. I grabbed him by the collar and swam with him to “his” boat, gasping for breath as the storm continued its assault.

A couple of security workers hauled him back into the boat and I got back to “my” place, but there was no time for rest. The city was falling apart around us. We could hear distant cries for help, but the storm’s fury drowned out most of the sounds. I knew we couldn’t save everyone. That reality hit me hard. For every person we rescued, there were a few others trapped in houses, praying for salvation that might never come.

As the day wore on, the flood continued its relentless rise. “Our” boats moved through the streets like a ghost, silent but ever-watchful, seeking out those in need. My students were exhausted, their faces pale from the cold and strain, but they didn’t waver. Not once. This is what we had trained for, though none of us ever imagined it would be under such circumstances. We went home at midnight, knowing that excluding me and my Lady partner, everybody needs to work for an employer. "Therefore, we declared our rescue operation as concluded

Finally, as the week of wild weather began to end, the rain started to let up. The water was still high, but the worst of the storm seemed to be passing. We had rescued dozens of people, but the damage to the city and surroundings was catastrophic. The flood situation in Prague in 2013 peaked on June 3rd, 2013. On that day, some parts of the city, such as Hostivař and Záběhlice, were significantly flooded, and many people were evacuated.

The next Sunday, I surveyed my assembled students, who still seemed shaken, but there was a fire in their eyes—a fierce determination that would not be extinguished by any storm. The thousand-year flood had tested us in ways we could never have anticipated. But we survived. And more importantly, we had saved lives of people and even animals!😊