Nothing Lasts

A Time of Despair

My father once showed me an ancient thing of magic. He called it a pensul. It allowed him to turn his words into writing and pictures. He said using it too much made the magic disappear until  he carved pieces of it away, making the end sharp and powerful again. I think about that pensul often. Surviving in this world is hard. It seems the longer I survive, the more of my soul I must keep carving away to stay sharp. I hope I still have some left tomorrow.

Humanity finally did it.  They triggered The Singularity . It is up for debate exactly which technological advancement brought about the end, but no one can argue the devastation wrought in its wake. The world of Nothing Lasts is a bleak one, punctuated with hope and opportunity. Survival is everyone’s occupation, and it pays to work together against this harsh and danger-filled land. No major cities are left. The ecology of many of Earth’s biomes have been shattered. The weather is chaotic and often deadly. Autonomous weapons of war and mutated animals prowl the remaining wilderness, making travel more dangerous than just sitting still.

Yet survival is possible. Humanity still lives, scattered among the ruins, dug into underground shelters, and hiding in forgotten wilderness enclaves. Companionship is in high demand, and trust is as hard to come by as clean water. Many have been lost to despair,  but many still hold out hope. A hope that we can one day climb out of the rubble and rebuild civilization.  Maybe this time one that is more mindful about the future.