The open plain spread out for miles and miles—as far as the eyes could see, with no sign of life, no form of plant, animal, or human life, only tall, pale grass—grass that wasn’t really grass, but strings of spirits and souls, rippling in a non-existent wind. The moonlight glittered, or so it seemed, from time to time, most concentrated at the top of a hill—a speck that might have been emitting its own light, a dull, ethereal glow that could be seen from afar.

It was a ghost, a ghost of the past and present, a dead, dying thing that watched over the rolling plains, ensuring that the future would never come. It had destroyed everything, it was a phantom of the earth, of how earth used to be; it was a memory of what had been, what it had destroyed, a ghost that watched over the vast graveyard that held buried all that once terrorized earth. The ghost was a guard, it made sure that humans never made it out of their graves; it was the only thing that kept them there, choking in their own misery. They had destroyed everything and now, this was their destruction.

The ghost continued to glow. It would continue to glow its haunting radiance till the end of time.

The plains would always be devoid of life.

The humans would remain buried forever.

Earth would never breathe again

—–

Já, þetta er ég að vera dugleg í samfélagsfræði