by Mc Annel
Many Ape ages pass. The forest grows sparser, trees stand shorter, the invasive muted brown devours every green in its path. More songs tell of oceans vanishing, transforming into mountains of cold, solid white stones. The cold winds up north freeze everything in its wake. The heat down south withers everything to brittleness. The Doom persists, seeking to annihilate every world, yet the will of the New Apes survives.
