Antihuman

Humanity had conquered everything the Earth had thrown at us. Disease, famine, climate, and even human conflict met their end. We had pushed past every frontier and stripped the world of its resistance. Limits were tested until they gave way, and obstacles that once defined survival were reduced to memory. In time, even the idea of constraint began to feel obsolete. We came to believe there was nothing left that could refuse us, not even death itself. But Mother Earth begged to differ. Burrowed deep in the grave of her bowels, she harbored a final countermeasure to our arrogance, a cure for the disease known as humanity. She reached far back into time, to an age when mind had just become matter, and brought forth our ancestral adversaries in one last attempt to deliver us to extinction. She answered the hubris of a species daring to cheat death. What she drew from that deep memory was a reckoning the future had no right to face. It surged with hunger, devouring the labors of man as though they were flesh, leaving only ruin in its wake. In all our years, we had never imagined defeat coming from anything but our own hands, our own ambitions. And yet the impossible had become absolute. The past had reached forward and conquered the future. But can they conquer me?