And the saurs did wage war with we raptors,
time after time, land after land, chasing us across oceans, across islands, across jungles and forests and wastes of ice,
intent on our genocide,
waging devastation across the planet, shifting continents, changing ecosystems.
A thousands species fell victim to their blood-avarice: large-bodied, small bodied, and the microscopic from whom came we all.
The god of the micro, who did first drive us from the waters to the dry earth, who did oversee our evolution into dense-brained multiple-intelligences, did itself fall prey to the saurs. Because of their madness, but not by their design.
It was our higher intelligence created the End when it should have created a Better World,
a Better World which is the Goal of Creation.
It was our higher madness that killed the god and its children by drawing on its very strength, the strength of the micro.
Our enemies the saurs enacted many ends before the Ultimate and Final.
And so we, who scorned and hated them for their hubris, we did do worse.
We destroyed the planet.
Two-twelves and four years ago, our creatives were charged with the mission to bring the eon of war to conclusion, to stop our ceaseless migration in flight from our enemies.
And so that which was meant to power life became the power of death. That which was born of the micro god, of its very substance and nature, the god who gave continually of itself to power our industry, our vehicles, our homes, we did take his essence and pervert it, turning it to destructive purposes, abusing it, weaponizing it.
And the explosion was great. And the explosion was godlike. And we were proud.
And we were devastated, just as we had devastated the world. Dust blocking the sun. Weather patterns changed forever.
And we now huddle in the dark and wait for death.
We have won our war.
And we have lost our world.
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