Too Quiet

The last of this planet’s sentient history may never be piece-worked into the exact mosaic of truth those that witnessed the last day would want. Many who should have recorded what happened didn’t. A few didn’t care. The bulk of the population never knew.

Maybe it was best that they didn’t.

Old calendar, 2026, June 8th, 0132 GMT, the reign of vertebrates concluded. Automatic data collection stations did not register an atmospheric disturbance or extraterrestrial event. Military stockpiles of weapons were not released. Chemical discharges did not occur. Even most biological inventories remained at pre-conclusion (PC) levels.

Most, but not all.

In Atlanta, Georgia and in Jakarta, Indonesia, researchers discovered (accidentally and coincidentally) a virulent strain of not one, but three viruses that attacked the central nervous system of Earth’s vertebrates. Acting symbiotically with the common cold (CC), they multiplied without fanfare or detection. With an incubation period of months, species dependent on electrical impulses through spinal cords and nerve endings never understood the imminent threat each carried or the ease of transmission each displayed. By June 1st, the first cases of central nervous system failure (CNSF or Glodok’s disease - source unknown) began manifesting in cities with large international airports. The first extinctions were avian and then reptilian. Amphibians and aquatics fared no better. Higher order mammals died later and died painfully. Data collection centers estimated vertebrate extinction within two weeks.

It only required one.

For this sole reason, travel to Earth (Terra) is now forbidden. Estimates indicate a prolonged dormancy to surpass centuries. The virus is most likely capable of cross species adaptation with a geometric (pernicious) presentation. Travel to orbiting relics is possible without quarantine (should one wish to visit). All landing inquiries will be ignored.