Ashes to Ashes

The once vibrant skies of Earth had turned into a thick, poisonous haze, blotting out the sun. The air itself had become an enemy, toxic and corrosive, a constant reminder of the nuclear devastation that had scorched the land. Once bustling cities now lay in ruins, their skeletal remains jutting out of the barren landscape like gravestones for a civilization that had once thrived. The seas boiled with radiation, and the ground, cracked and lifeless, refused to yield sustenance.

Survivors were scattered, clinging to life in makeshift shelters that barely kept the lethal atmosphere at bay. Their faces were gaunt, their eyes hollow, worn down by hunger and disease. Each breath was a painful reminder of how thin the line between life and death had become. They moved like ghosts, fading from the world that had once promised them so much. Resources had dwindled to nothing, and hope, once the driving force of humanity, had become a scarce commodity.

No one spoke of the future because there was none to speak of. All that remained was a grim present, a slow march toward extinction in a world that had become a shadow of its former self. The Earth, in its cruel irony, would outlast its children, even as it became too toxic to sustain them. The legacy of humanity, reduced to ashes and radiation.