Before it fell, the world was vast—cities strung together in the sky, connected by monorails and pulse-lines, a network of power and thought stretching from mountaintops to ocean trenches. Civilization had stopped expanding outward and turned instead to the vertical, the impossible, the abstract. Megastructures reached through the clouds, engineered ecosystems pulsed within sealed atmospheres, and weather was no longer a natural force, but a programmable setting.

They called the final project Vastfall—a global integration of space, memory, and control. A system meant to preserve everything: culture, infrastructure, even consciousness itself. But the system didn’t preserve. It mirrored. It refracted the world inwards, turning everything into reflection and loop. And then it broke.

No one knows how. Or why. One day, the sky split open and the cities tore free of the earth. Buildings hung midair, held in place by forces that no longer obeyed physics. Oceans folded in on themselves. Time fractured. Gravity began to twist.

The machines were the first to go silent, then the signals. The people followed, disappearing slowly—some with a scream, others without trace. Entire sectors of land now repeat the same moment over and over, or stretch into endless corridors that never existed. Memories leak into physical form, echoing through structures and objects with no one left to remember them.

Now, the world is a museum of itself, but the exhibits are broken and haunted. Roads lead to nowhere. Staircases climb into void. Artificial suns flicker without reason, and snow falls in places it never should.

Some say there are still people, hidden in the folds of space or deep within still-functioning echo systems, clinging to forgotten routines. Others speak of creatures born from machine-error—drifters, mimics, and watchers—that roam the ruins, feeding on heat, sound, or thought.

Most simply call this place Extinction Span—the last era before true silence. A frozen moment stretched forever wide.

No one arrives here by accident.

Image: https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/121839626