After The Fall

The Last Breath

As the world started to slowly lose its oxygen, all species felt the effects. In the beginning, the decline was subtle, and many animals showed signs of distress, but most continued their daily lives unaware of the impending crisis.

Birds and fish were the first to go. Aquatic life, reliant on dissolved oxygen in the water, began to suffer as levels dropped. Schools of fish struggled to breathe, their bodies writhing in the diminishing oxygen-rich currents. Birds, which require high oxygen levels for flight, became increasingly lethargic. Fewer birds filled the skies as they succumbed to the lack of air.

Plants and trees began to struggle as well. With reduced oxygen levels, their ability to convert carbon dioxide into oxygen diminished, causing a decline in their health and vitality. Many trees shed their leaves and became unable to grow properly, which contributed to the overall collapse of ecosystems and the vanishing of lush green landscapes. As the vibrant greenery faded, the ecosystems that once thrived became eerily quiet.

Insects, spiders, and reptiles also faced dire consequences. Many insects rely on oxygen for survival, and as levels dropped, they began to disappear. Spiders, which hunt insects, found their food sources dwindling. Snakes, relying on their prey, became increasingly scarce as their environments deteriorated. The intricate web of life began to unravel, leading to a further collapse of natural ecosystems.

However, some species continued to thrive in this harsh environment. Certain extremophiles, organisms that thrive in extreme conditions, were able to endure where others could not. This included specific bacteria and fungi that adapted to anaerobic conditions, as well as hardy plants like cacti and succulents, which were suited to low-water environments. Additionally, some deep-sea creatures persisted, as they relied on chemosynthesis rather than oxygen for survival.

Humans, particularly those with respiratory issues, felt the changes acutely. Headaches and fatigue became common complaints as the air grew thinner. Individuals with asthma or chronic obstructive pulmonary disease found it increasingly difficult to breathe. Hospitals saw a rise in patients struggling for air, marking the beginning of a public health crisis.

As time went on, the situation worsened. Oxygen levels fell below critical thresholds. Many terrestrial animals began to feel the effects as well. Larger mammals, like deer and elephants, struggled to sustain their energy levels, while smaller creatures, including rodents and rabbits, faced increased mortality rates.

The oceans began to suffer due to the decline in plant life. Coral reefs and underwater vegetation struggled without sufficient oxygen, leading to the collapse of marine ecosystems. The waters became murkier as algae blooms took over, creating dead zones where life could not survive.

Humans continued to adapt for a while, but eventually, the toll became too great. Healthy individuals found themselves out of breath after the simplest tasks, and communities began to fracture as people sought refuge in areas where the air felt slightly more breathable. As the oxygen level sank below 15%, confusion and panic set in. People with pre-existing health issues began to die, followed soon by many others.

In the final stages, as the last animals and humans perished, their bodies remained largely intact. The absence of insects and decomposers slowed the process of decay significantly. Without oxygen, traditional decomposition methods were altered, leading to a situation where bodies could be preserved for long periods. In cooler, drier conditions, mummification might occur, leaving behind haunting remnants of the once-thriving life that filled the world. These preserved bodies became a stark reminder of the vibrant ecosystems that had vanished, marking the end of an era.

Ultimately, as the last traces of oxygen disappeared, all living beings that depended on it faced extinction. The world, once vibrant with life, became a silent echo of what had been, leaving behind a barren landscape devoid of the plants, animals, and humans that once thrived in its atmosphere.

How do I know this? I was there for it all. A long, long time ago, I figured out that my body was special. On my 25th birthday, I felt a strange sensation, one I couldn't quite explain. As the years passed, I continued my life, barely thinking anything of it, but others began to notice that I still looked young. I noticed it, too. My skin didn't age, and my face remained unchanged from that day when I turned 25. It became clear to me around the age of 40 that I was never going to age.

I had many questions but no one to confide in. My only guardian had died when I was 35, and I trusted no one else with this secret—except my brother, Alaric. He recognized that I wasn't aging, while he was, and he warned me to leave the country. "If the government finds out," he said, "they'll use you for their own gain." I took his advice and fled. Luckily, I was a nurse, which meant I could find work anywhere. I traveled the world, working in diverse countries and communities.

I passed my 80th birthday still looking and feeling like I was 25. There wasn't a single ailment in me. I never got sick; when I cut myself or got hurt, I healed within minutes to hours. I never tried to test the limits of this gift; I was too scared.

Around my 100th birthday, I began to notice alarming spikes in deaths among animals and humans with compromised immune systems—individuals whose bodies were no longer equipped to fend off illness. The news reported on the escalating crisis, plunging the world into a state of widespread panic. The medical field, my field, was gripped by chaos, struggling to comprehend the inexplicable losses. It was a truly terrible time to be a nurse; countless lives were slipping away, and I felt powerless, knowing I would remain unscathed. When the so-called "healthy" humans began to feel the effects and succumb to the same fate, a chilling realization washed over me: I was destined to be the last living soul in this forsaken world. A world stripped of life, devoid of nature—an empty landscape with no one to talk to, nothing to see.