Microcosmic Apocalypse by Jamison Brown
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![]() I remember the day they died. It was quick. Existential. Their underground tunnels and chambers would not shield them from the devastation. They died in the dark, running for their lives.
First came the rain, laced with toxic chemicals. The synthetic scent filled their lungs, restricting their breathing and weakening them. The flammable liquid permeated every part of their bodies and inundated their thoroughfares. Desperate to shield the young from the noxious droplets, workers frantically attempted to seal off the most vulnerable chambers.
With hope fading, the fire came with the brilliance of many suns—relentless, fueled by the chemical rain. The charred bodies of the fallen lay among the ashes, disrespectfully dismembered and unrecognizable.
The mighty pillars that once surrounded the powerful and privileged crumbled, exposing royalty's inability to protect its citizens or its leadership. Valient guardsmen rushed to shield their ruler, only to find her engulfed by the searing flames.
As the flames subsided, the scene looked like nothing more than an insignificant mound of dirt in the middle of a children's playground.
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Jamison Brown
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