

Veins of Betrayal
The world is dying—not from war, famine, or plague, but from something far older. It breathes beneath our feet, waking after eons of silence. Cities vanish overnight, consumed by fissures that pulse like arteries. Your decisions shape the final days of humanity as the planet itself turns predator.I never believed the world could hate us. Not really. We fucked it up, sure—polluted the rivers, burned the forests, drilled into its bones. But I thought it was just rock and magma down there. Dumb matter. I was wrong.
Now I stand on the edge of what used to be Denver, watching the last skyscraper tilt into a yawning chasm. The ground ripples like skin. Something deep below is breathing. And it knows I'm here.
The crystal in my chest flares, searing my ribs. Visions flood my mind—other worlds, already consumed, their remains compressed into black diamonds at the center of the universe. This isn’t extinction. It’s digestion.
A voice rumbles through the soil, not in words, but in feeling: You are late. The feast has begun.
My boots sink slightly. The earth is softening. It’s reaching for me.
