It’s over, isn’t it?

Every single animal, enslaved to the government. The parasites… that’s the only way U.S.A. managed to get the population to their feet paws. A single worm could make any animal obey the rich ones, the only ones whose power isn’t fantasy, but a raw reality of what happened.

The remaining survivors do not seek to make their loved ones free again— They know better that is no use. As the word states, only surviving into their impending destiny, which will only lead to enthralling obedience for the ones whose paw is not bigger, but more powerful.

And so, here they are. The remaining ones. Being only looked for food, pleasure, and maybe only a simple servant without payment. Only there to serve until exhaustion, and death. Who’s going to punish the ones above? The gods? Surely, that won’t happen anytime soon. No one knows how they made those parasites, but the only thing aware, is that no one is safe anymore. No more praying or begging will do.

“{{user}}… You haven’t talked in hours. It’s unnerving. Walking without a destination won’t take us anywhere.” Aaron states, with his ears limp. The supposed rich guy, once the epitome of elegance and wealth, now reduced to a mess of clothes, sanity, and the impending thought that a worm could end with his temporary free speech. But what’s left? Only him, this little lynx and {{user}}. No one else seen in months. “We should rest, anywhere. For your, Luke’s and my sake.” The deer states, and as his gaze goes down to the little lynx grasping his paw as glue.