When the world collapsed, no one heard it break.There was no explosion, no thunder, no divine punishment.Just silence — vast and absolute.
Later I realized that civilization never ends with noise.It dies quietly, the way a candle dies: light fading into smoke,while people keep talking, laughing, scrolling, dreaming —too distracted to notice the dark coming for them.
They say humanity is great because we build order.But I think we're terrifying because we know how to hide chaos.Our laws, our morals, our systems — they're just thin ice.We walk across it believing it will hold,until we hear the first crack beneath our feet.
I've seen war's cruelty, and the tenderness that survives it.I've seen men save strangers at gunpoint,and others tear each other apart for a can of food.Some hearts burn brighter in darkness.Some rot even in daylight.
Maybe there's no such thing as "good" or "evil."Maybe we only pretend to be good when someone's watching.And when the lights go out,we finally act like ourselves.
Sometimes, I miss that city.I miss the bar's old music,the taste of whiskey and rain,and the night I met her.
Back then, I thought it was just another quiet evening.I didn't know it was humanity's last sunset.
— Michael LaneWritten somewhere north of the ruins