The Story So Far...
The Apocalypse
The End
It didn’t happen overnight. It never does.
One day the world was alive.
The next… it was something else. A fast-moving illness, aggressive and unpredictable, spreading through cities before anyone understood what it was. People collapsed without warning—on trains, in offices, in the middle of the street. Hospitals filled within days. Governments issued statements, then restrictions, then silence.
At first, it was contained. Or at least, it looked that way. Then the deaths accelerated. Not thousands—hundreds of thousands. Entire districts went quiet as emergency services stopped responding. Power grids failed in places, not from destruction, but from absence. There weren’t enough people left to keep things running. Streets emptied, not from evacuation, but from fear. And just as suddenly as people were dying, reports began to surface—confused, dismissed, then impossible to ignore. The dead were returning.
At first, they were mistaken for survivors. Disoriented. Injured. Alive. But something was wrong. They didn’t speak. Didn’t react. Didn’t stop. As more of them appeared, patterns became clear. They weren’t coming back—they were continuing. Moving without purpose, filling the streets, gathering in numbers that made entire cities unrecognisable. The world didn’t end in fire or ruin. It decayed in place, slowly overtaken by things that should have been gone… but never left.
Things that should have been gone… but never left.
Death noticed.
Not at first. Not when the numbers began to rise, or when the first thousands passed. That was normal. Expected. Death had seen plagues before. Wars. Extinction events. This was no different. It was part of the cycle.
Until it wasn’t. The souls stopped coming.
Where there should have been movement, there was silence. No passage. No trace. Just absence. Death reached, as it always had, to guide what remained—and found nothing to take. The world was filling with the dead, but nothing was leaving it.
This is not how it works.
So Mors descended.
Not out of curiosity, but necessity. Something was interfering with the natural order. Something had interrupted the balance between life and death. And for the first time, the world below was not just suffering—it was wrong.
