When the Earth’s ground met the realm of space, the planet split between a frozen land and pool of heat, with a path between holding the last plant life. The cities once filled with men and women who built the last standing structures fell to crumbled ruins. Statues that kept the faces of man survived as the last standing likeness of humanity.

Among the wreckage, the spirit wondered above the ground. It searched in the heat and the cold. It passed the zones where the last life remained in the forms of mushrooms and moss. Passing a toadstool as big as a whale, he stopped to ask of it, “Has the soul of man ceased?”

The toadstool called back, “Men have not been for some time. They only live on as a cautionary tale of the ill fated told to our young.”

Upon hearing this, the spirit turned to space. “The soul of man no longer endures. It was a ride, friends, but I will not walk this earth without you.” The spirit aimed into the unknown to all but itself. Shooting as a light beam, it fired off into the boundless space filled with stars, planets, and life yet to be born.