Desolation

The world was dead. It was silent and cold and empty. A tomb emblazoned with light blocked only by crumbling stones that cast stark shadows upon the landscape. That was how it was when the explorers found it. 3 sets of tracks led from their vessel with surety and experience in their gait. They had seen hundreds of worlds, faced innumerable dangers, but they had been able to surmount it all. This though, this was something else. This was raw desolation and a world with nothing. There were signs that there had been more, once, but now there was nothing. They hadn’t seen a single drop of water or spot of color beyond brown, gray, and rust. Sometimes, they came across a stone that was a bit too square and perhaps worked by the hand of someone or something, or a stretch of worn ground that might have once housed a river, or even an expanse ground littered with white salt that spoke volumes of an ancient sea. There were only memories, impressions, signs that there had once been more. But there was nothing to tell how the tale began or ended, or even how it was woven in the middle. The explorers made a mark on their long. Resources Negligible, Unable to Support Colonization. They left their footprints in the dirt, adding an epilogue none would read to the forgotten tale of a dead world.

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