At this very moment, somewhere in the universe a world is dying. The sky slowly obtaining a darker shade of black; fading into oblivion. The people are long gone, fled to a new beginning far away. The remains of the civilization are visible anywhere the naked eye can perceive through the oncoming storm. Some were left. Those still living scrape the world of all that was plentiful in a bygone age. Their bodies quake and shiver in the icy gale that heralds the arrival of the army of destruction. Soon there will be nothing at all left; not even the charred ashes of the world scorched by the eternal flaming swords. This high and mighty civilization has fallen. It's legacy destroyed. The world will be destroyed - in a single breath, gone. But others journey on, blissfully unaware of the impending doom that awaits that. Yet it is inevitable. Everything must end. Here, in this corner of the universe that ending is on the horizon; the trumpet that marks the end of an age.
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