Months passed under a permanent shadow of fear. Entire cities were sealed under lockdown. People stayed indoors, rationing supplies, watching the news repeat the same unanswered questions. Outside, the world was changing without us.
Animals continued to evolve.
Dogs began coordinating hunts. Birds communicated warnings across species. Even insects displayed patterns of collective intelligence. Some smaller creatures gained abilities—heightened senses, bursts of strength, unnatural agility. But evolution demanded balance. Those unable to control the energy within them simply collapsed, their bodies burned out by power they could not contain.
Humans struggled to adapt.
Most could not handle the residual energy left by the mist. Physical weakness spread. Panic turned into despair. Survival instincts dulled instead of sharpened. Civilization, once proud of its dominance, began to retreat.
Then the portals returned.
This time, they opened across the globe—dozens of them. From each poured refined magical energy, denser and more violent than before. Along with it came beings unlike anything we had known: magical beasts of immense power. They were not mindless. They were rulers.
These entities communicated effortlessly—with animals, with plants, even with mutated forests that now seemed to listen and respond. They gathered the most evolved creatures beneath them, forming hierarchies. Armies.
The Earth was no longer ours.
Creatures too weak to survive the energy died in countless numbers. The balance of life shifted violently. Human populations plummeted. Every day, more cities fell silent.
I realized then that humanity was no longer fighting extinction.
We were witnessing replacement.