The End of the Beginning

The world we knew was rebelling against our failed ambitions. Steadily worsening meteorological events led to crop failures and mass casualties worldwide. Then the monoliths appeared - called forth from beyond our comprehension of time and space - winking into existing in orbit around the planet. They hovered silently for days, weeks, months until they began falling down, dragging innumerable satellites and pieces of space debris in their gravitational wake.

The monoliths slammed into the crust of the planet - though still extended far beyond into space - causing violent earthquakes, igniting long-dormant volcanoes, pushing mighty tsunamis over the continents and activating a series of massive magnetic pulses that cut out our electricity and completely eradicating all of our digital data, reducing our knowledge to what was left in libraries of destroyed cities.

From a distance, the scourge was a thing of wonder, a thing of beauty. Like a great snake shedding its skin, the scourge emerged from the monoliths in great streams like migrating flights of swallows, floating and twisting upward. Seeking. The greenish hues and crystalline glints produced an almost mesmerizing, kaleidoscopic effect on the landscape. Distant hills appeared verdant, and the endless desolation of dirt and rock seemed to have once again been given life…for a time.

After days of looming in the sky, the promise of the scourge was fulfilled. It floated down out of the sky in torrents, blown by the wind and settling, unfettered, like the first winter snow. But there was no chill to the air, only the warm allure of the beautiful unknown. Crowds filtered out of their homes with hopes of salvation to witness the unprecedented event. The first to reach to the sky and touch the falling curiosity were also the first to perish. The intensity of the pain was parallel to its brevity.

With the hope of the surviving humanity dwindling, there was a sudden peace. Hurricanes softened into breezes and stifling heat subsided, as if the monoliths had somehow quieted the tumult within the planet. The pulses they emanated also brought gentle rains and extended beauty of the polar aurora across the entire planet. The monoliths stood silently, mysteriously; perceived as symbols of rebirth, until the scourge was released.

The scourge rooted itself in rock, steel, and flesh alike. Its blooms and tendrils colonizing all it touched, marching forth and sparing none. Entire cities, which collectively held their breath in anticipation, were only memories within moments. Within days, the world’s population was whittled down to a small percentage of what it once was. Within weeks, our human structures stood as silent, overgrown monuments to a new reality.