Second Universe Tales: The Origins

[Second Universe Tales]

In the beginning, there was nothing.

There was neither light nor darkness.

Neither time or space.

The first Universe was the sole Universe to exist.

Then, 46 billion years ago, it all changed.

Mutilator, sixth son of Lucifer and champion of Wrath, defeated his creator in combat. From the ensuing battle, came the destruction of Hell.

The seven children of Satan fled from the gaze of God, absorbing the souls of their respective hellish circles to gain the power to create various universes to their likeness.

Mutilator was the sixth son, but he was the first to create a new universe.

The Second Universe.

He created the First Sun, to which the First Planet would orbit, and bask into its glory.

Even today, after its fragmentation 666 million years ago, the First Planet lies right beneath the feet of every planet in the Second Universe, and the First Sun still dictates the orbit and movements of the worlds.

A smaller chunk of the First Planet was ripped off and became the First Moon. And slowly, the First Ocean oceans formed… until life on the Second Universe was ready to begin. But who would inherit this violent realm?

These tales tell the extraordinary story of life in a Universe of hardship.

A realm when strange and savage creatures fight a ruthless battle for dominion.

Ignore the lies of the mad and the deceivers, claiming to wage war in the name of glory, peace and survival, for it is all a war for control of these blood-stained worlds of a violent and brutal Universe, where only the strong are allowed to live.

A war between monsters.

 

[Second Universe Tales]

The First Planet.

Future Nitassinan-Nuvvuuk region.

43 Billion years ago.

The world is a place of restless oceans, volcanic coastlines, and violent chemical change. There are no animals, no plants, and no cells as we know them today.

It is a dark, alien landscape under a dim, orange-tinted sky. The young First Sun shines with only 70% of its modern brightness, but the atmosphere is a suffocating mix of carbon dioxide, methane, and water vapor.

The First Ocean is deep, iron-rich, acidic and heavily laden with dissolved minerals. There is no oxygen. Tides are monstrously high because the Moon is much closer to Earth than it is today.

Yet hidden within this barren landscape, deep underwater, glowing, jagged hydrothermal chimneys spew scalding, alkaline fluids into the cold, acidic seawater. These towers of iron and silica act as the crucible for tiny structures that may one day give rise to every living thing on the universe. These are protocells.

Protocells are simple aggregates of molecules capable of gathering and protecting the ingredients of life. By concentrating genetic and metabolic components into a single location, they create distinct individuals upon which natural selection can act. In doing so, they provide one of the first crucial steps toward Darwinian evolution.

Several kinds of protocells existed on the early First Planet. The most familiar resemble modern cells. Known as vesicles, or liposomes, they consist of a membrane bilayer surrounding a watery interior. This membrane separates the chemistry inside from the outside world.

Others take the form of oil droplets. These structures possess a hydrophobic core stabilized by amphiphilic molecules on their surface. Though simple, they can gather and organize chemicals in ways that influence prebiotic reactions.

Another candidate is the coacervate. Formed when positively charged polymers interact with negatively charged molecules, coacervates create dense droplets capable of concentrating charged compounds within their interiors. Unlike oil droplets, their internal environment is dominated by electrical interactions rather than hydrophobic ones.

Even inorganic structures play an important role. Thin mineral films, hydrothermal vent boundaries, and microscopic crystals gathered molecules together, creating localized environments where increasingly complex chemistry could unfold.

But the formation of protocells depends on the environment. Concentration is critical. Without enough amphiphiles, membranes cannot form. Without sufficient charged polymers, coacervates fail to appear. Temperature also shapes their existence. High temperatures tend to keep substances dissolved, while cooler conditions encourage precipitation and aggregation.

The chemistry of the surrounding water matters as well. Changes in ionic strength can determine whether molecules remain dispersed or cluster together. Variations in pH, especially near hydrothermal systems, subjected early protocells to dramatic chemical challenges. Yet across a wide range of conditions, different types of aggregates can emerge and persist.

Once formed, protocells become miniature chemical worlds. Some molecules attach to their surfaces through electrostatic attractions or hydrogen bonds. Others are drawn into hydrophobic interiors. Certain compounds become trapped inside while remaining surrounded by water, creating protected environments where reactions can proceed.

These structures influence chemistry in different ways. Some reactions occur directly on membrane surfaces, where reactants remain concentrated and waste products diffuse away into the surrounding environment. Others take place within enclosed vesicles. Here, reactants and products must cross the membrane barrier, creating a more controlled but sometimes slower system.

One remarkable example involves the hammerhead ribozyme, an RNA enzyme capable of self-cleavage. When enclosed within vesicles, its reaction rate decreases because waste products remain nearby and can interfere with the process. Inside coacervates, however, the opposite occurs. By concentrating reactants together, the coacervate accelerates the reaction, demonstrating how protocells can actively shape prebiotic chemistry.

Perhaps most intriguingly, protocells can grow and divide. A vesicle experiencing internal chemical growth may draw membrane material from neighboring vesicles, increasing in size. Oil droplets can develop budding membrane structures that eventually separate through the movement of water and fluid currents. No genes control these events. Instead, they arise naturally from the physical forces of the environment.

The hydrothermal chimneys play a key role in the formation of these early organisms. Here, fatty acid molecules—spontaneously formed by geothermal heat and minerals—are being churned together by the turbulent water.

Already this early in the Second Universe history, survival is not guaranteed for all.

Millions of membranes pop and vanish, and protocells are in a constant battle against the currents.

The First Planet may have become more solid compared to the creation of the First Moon, but it is still highly unstable.

A shift in the current can change everything.

Suddenly, there is a shift in the current. A surge of water blasts through the chimney.

The protocells are swept away.

The vesicles tumble into open seawater, in a completely alien environment.

Beyond the vent, conditions are lethal.

The water here is more acidic. Hydrogen ions swarm around the protocells membrane.

The acidic ocean attacks the protocells fragile membrane, which begins to deform.

Nearby vesicles rupture, their contents spill into darkness.

Others dissolve completely.

Countless protocells are destroyed within seconds.

As the current intensifies, another danger appears.

Dissolved calcium ions.

Crystals begin forming along membranes.

Calcium ions lock onto the fatty acids, causing the membranes to crystallize and fail.

One protocell after another stiffens, cracks and shatters.

Fragments drift like microscopic wreckage.

Some protocells narrowly avoid the densest mineral cloud. Damaged but intact, they continue drifting in the uncaring seas.

Xxxxxxx

Several hours pass, and the current mercifully weakens.

The protocells enter a tiny crevice in the vent wall.

The environment stabilizes, with warm fluids circulate gently, and organic molecules accumulate.

Fortune favors no one here.

Yet sometimes the environment provides temporary sanctuary.

After returning to familiar landscapes, the protocells begun to absorb nearby fatty acids, causing their membranes to expand.

RNA-like strands capture additional nucleotides, causing the cells to grow steadily larger.

Xxxxxxx

Days pass.

Then weeks.

Possibly months.

Within this microscopic refuge, for one Protocell, growth becomes possible.

The vesicle swells.

The membrane stretches.

Inside, molecular reactions become increasingly complex.

RNA strands copy themselves imperfectly, and they begin to drift apart.

Information is beginning to reproduce.

The protocell has become unstable.

Volcanic microcurrents twist its elongated body, and the membrane narrowed in the center.

Growth creates a new challenge: the larger the protocell becomes, the harder it is to remain whole.

The narrowing deepens, as the membrane pinches inward.

The protocell stretched, twisted, and finally…. It split

Two daughter protocells drift apart, floating independently, each containing copies of the original molecular strands.

But these are not identical copies.

One strand contains a tiny error.

A mutation.

The replication process is imperfect, and a single molecular change has occurred.

As the current once more struck the vents, the mutated daughter is stranded in acidic water.

Its membrane remains stable slightly longer.

The difference is almost immeasurable, and yet in the grand scheme of things, it is a monumental success.

The alteration grants a small advantage: its membrane is marginally more resistant to acid.

The daughter survives, whilst nearby protocells perish.

In a world where survival is measured in moments, even the smallest advantage can decide the future.

Individually, these primitive structures are insignificant.

Most will disappear without leaving a trace. Yet among trillions of failures, a few endure.

For the first time in the Second Universe's history, natural selection has begun.

The spark of life has been lit.

 

[Second Universe Tales]

The First Planet

Future Nitassinan-Nuvvuuk region.

40 Billion Years ago.

A deep, low-frequency vibration echoes through darkness, resembling a distant heartbeat.

Slowly, an orange glow emerges.

Clouds of methane swirl across the sky.

3 billion years have passed since life's first fragile beginnings.

The First Planet remains a hostile world.

Volcanoes dominate the horizon.

The oceans are dark and rich with dissolved metals.

Above, an alien sky blocks the faint light of a young First Sun.

Yet life has endured.

Gigantic waves crash against black volcanic shores.

The First Moon hangs enormous above the horizon, its gravitational pull driving colossal tides across the planet.

Lightning flickers within methane-rich clouds.

40 billion years ago, the First Planet is crossing a threshold.

The violence of the Yeitsian is slowly giving way to the Hahalzhian.

But survival remains a daily struggle.

Beneath the boiling surface, past clouds of dissolved iron, past volcanic ridges glowing red in the darkness, a vast hydrothermal vent system emerges.

Columns of mineral-rich water rise into the abyss.

Life has changed.

Thousands of microorganisms coat the rocks.

The primitive protocells of earlier ages have given rise to something more stable.

True cells.

A colony of microorganisms clings to the vent walls, forming shimmering chains and clusters.

These are Methanococcus primordialis.

They are ancient members of the Archaea, among the earliest successful lifeforms in the Second Universe.

Each organism is astonishingly simple. A delicate plasma membrane forms the boundary between the cell and the harsh environment beyond. This membrane, made from a phospholipid bilayer studded with proteins, carefully regulates what enters and leaves the cell. Nutrients and energy sources are taken in, while waste products are expelled back into the surrounding water.

Many of these primitive organisms possess an additional layer of protection. Outside the membrane lies a rigid cell wall composed of peptidoglycan. This tough mesh-like structure helps the cell withstand the pressures of its environment and maintain its shape.

Inside the cell is a jelly-like region known as the cytoplasm. The fluid component, called the cytosol, is crowded with molecular machinery. Unlike the complex cells that will evolve billions of years later, there is no nucleus. Instead, the genetic material occupies a region known as the nucleoid.

Here lies the organism's DNA—a massive molecule containing the instructions for survival. Segments of this DNA, known as genes, encode the proteins required for every aspect of life.

Throughout the cytosol are ribosomes, tiny molecular factories composed of RNA and proteins. Following genetic instructions, these structures assemble new proteins. Some proteins act as enzymes that copy DNA, ensuring the organism can reproduce. Others drive metabolic reactions, extracting energy from the environment and sustaining the cell's activities.

Although these creatures are microscopic, they are governed by a crucial physical limitation. Materials can only pass through the plasma membrane at a certain rate. To survive efficiently, a cell must maximize its surface area while minimizing the volume that needs support.

This is why most prokaryotes remain extraordinarily small. Their high surface-area-to-volume ratio allows nutrients to enter rapidly and wastes to leave efficiently. Nature has settled upon a successful design—cells typically measuring only around one hundredth of a millimetre across.

Hydrogen-rich fluids emerge from the vent, while carbon dioxide drifts through the water.

The microbes absorb both, feeding on chemistry itself.

They consume hydrogen and carbon dioxide, releasing methane as waste.

As they do, the colony expands across the basalt, with new cells dividing continuously.

The vent provides warmth and nutrients.

For a moment, the First Planet seems peaceful. But this is still a universe of struggle.

Even among microbes, competition has begun.

Another colony appears, in the form of a reddish microbial film.

These cells are elongated and threadlike, and are spreading rapidly.

Ferroplasma antiquum.

Primitive iron-oxidizing bacteria that exploit a different energy source.

The surrounding seawater is saturated with dissolved iron.

As the bacteria metabolize, rust-colored minerals begin to precipitate.

The water around them changes.

Orange sediments settle over the basalt, forming rust layers slowly thickening.

Methanococcus colonies become buried as cells are trapped beneath mineral crusts.

Some die, while others struggle to remain exposed.

This is no battle of claws or teeth.

It is a war fought through chemistry.

Slowly, iron deposits spread, with entire microbial communities disappearing beneath layers of oxidized minerals.

Their remains will become part of the Second Universe's ancient geological memory.

The first foundations of ancient iron-rich rocks.

One Prokaryote colony survived inside a narrow fracture, sheltered from the growing mineral blanket.

But the greatest threat does not come from the ocean.

Suddenly, however, the entire vent system trembles.

A deep roar echoes through the crust.

Microbial mats ripple violently.

Xxxxxxx

Far above the First Planet, a mountain-sized asteroid races through space.

Its surface glows white-hot.

40 billion years ago, Mutilator was still heavily involved in the shaping of the Second Universe. With his divine might, and the desire for life to evolve, he struck the planet mercilessly, in order to trigger a change.

His divine bombardments are nearing the end.

But the final blows are devastating.

The asteroid struck the ocean, and the impact is instantaneous.

A blinding flash engulfs the horizon.

Shockwaves race through the planet.

Gigantic tsunamis sweep across the oceans.

Volcanoes erupt along spreading ridges.

Magma pours from fractures in the crust.

The upper ocean begins to boil.

Steam clouds engulf entire regions.

Open microbial colonies vanish.

Iron bacteria covering exposed rocks are instantly sterilized.

Entire ecosystems disappear in moments.

Deep within the porous basalt, a Methanococcus colony remains hidden.

Heat rises around them.

Thankfully for the colony, rock absorbs the worst of the impact, a natural fortress against extinction.

Xxxxxxx

Months pass.

Then years.

The oceans gradually cool.

Hydrothermal systems become active once more.

The surviving microbes emerge from their shelters.

Cell division resumes.

New colonies spread across fresh volcanic rock.

Life begins again, as it always will.

Methane bubbles rise toward the distant surface.

Countless generations pass.

The descendants of the survivors expand throughout the ocean floor.

Every living thing on the Second Universe owes its existence to survivors like these.

Organisms capable of enduring a universe that seemed determined to destroy them.

 

[Second Universe Tales]

The First Planet

Future Ngurra-Mula Province on the planet Gathaagudu.

35 Billion Years ago.

The distant crash of waves echoes through darkness.

A low wind whistles through volcanic cliffs.

Slowly, a pale orange sun emerges above the horizon.

5 billion years have passed since life first survived the bombardment of the young First Planet.

The world has remained alien.

A vast volcanic shoreline stretches across the horizon.

Fresh basalt plains gleam beneath an orange-pink sky.

Volcanoes vent sulfurous steam into the atmosphere.

Gigantic tides crash against black rocks.

The skies are thick with methane.

The oceans are rich with iron, and the waters glow olive-green.

Oxygen is still almost entirely absent.

Yet life is no longer hiding within cracks in the rocks.

It has begun to spread.

What will one day become the Ngurra-Mula Province on the planet Gathaagudu is one of the oldest stable regions on the Second Universe, and one that has managed to preserve the ancient past of the First Planet.

Yet stability is relative.

The nearby First Moon raises enormous tides.

Every few hours, entire coastlines disappear beneath the sea.

But this is not the same everywhere. In some lagoons, things are different.

Unlike the open coast, the water here is calm, shallow, hypersaline, and bathed in sunlight.

In it, we find strange structures rising from the lagoon floor.

Rounded domes of layered columns, wrinkled ridges of countless colours, from orange, to brown and dull green.

These are stromatolites.

The oldest unmistakable ecosystems on the Second Universe.

Each structure is built by countless microorganisms working together.

Layer upon layer, generation upon generation.

Sunlight filters through the shallow water, and the microbes absorb it.

These microscopic organisms are cyanobacteria. Though tiny, they are among the most successful lifeforms ever to exist.

These organisms have evolved a revolutionary strategy.

Powered by sunlight, they perform a remarkable process known as photosynthesis. Using energy from the First Sun, they manufacture sugars that fuel their growth and survival.

But photosynthesis produces something else—oxygen.

For now, that oxygen quickly reacts with minerals dissolved in the oceans. The atmosphere above remains almost entirely devoid of it. Yet over hundreds of millions of years, the relentless activity of countless cyanobacteria will change the world forever.

In the warm shallows, cyanobacteria gather together in vast colonies.

Each colony consists of countless individual cells embedded within a protective layer of mucus. A single cell divides into two... then four... then eight... growing into communities large enough to carpet entire stretches of the seafloor.

Layer upon layer, they trap sediment and build towering structures known as stromatolites.

Stromatolite rise from the seabed like living cities, some standing several metres high. Across the ancient shoreline, they dominate the landscape.

Living together offers important advantages.

Within some colonies, not every cell performs the same role. Certain members sacrifice their ability to photosynthesise, specialising instead in capturing nitrogen from the environment.

These cells provide essential nutrients to the colony, while their neighbours continue harvesting sunlight and producing sugars.

Through this simple division of labour, the colony becomes more efficient and resilient.

For now, these microbial communities are the Second Universe's undisputed rulers.

The oxygen they release immediately reacts with surrounding minerals, never reaching the atmosphere.

For now, the gas is consumed almost as quickly as it is produced.

But the First Planet's chemistry is beginning to change.

Xxxxxxx

For now, however, the greatest threat comes from the land itself.

Far beyond the lagoon, a volcano erupts.

The sky darkens, and a massive plume rises into the atmosphere.

Hours later, volcanic ash begins falling into the lagoon.

Dark particles settle over the microbial mats.

Sunlight disappears, and the stromatolites vanish beneath a blanket of sediment.

Buried beneath volcanic debris, the colony faces suffocation.

If they want to survive, they'll have to move.

And so they do.

Slowly.

Almost imperceptibly.

Yet relentlessly.

Though they possess no muscles... no nerves... and no awareness... they respond to light.

The filaments migrate upward, climbing through the sediment.

Sticky secretions bind ash particles together.

Layer after layer forms.

Xxxxxxx

Days pass.

The surface is reached, and photosynthesis resumes.

The colony survives by rebuilding itself.

In doing so, it creates the layered structures that will remain visible billions of years later.

The sun sets behind volcanic peaks.

The lagoon disappears beneath the incoming tide.

The stromatolites continue growing, unseen beneath the water.

They appear insignificant.

Mere films of slime coating ancient rocks.

Yet these microbial fortresses are quietly reshaping an entire world.

Xxxxxxx

The First Planet

Future Makhonjwa Rift.

35 Billion Years ago.

Far to the west lies another cradle of life, what will one day become the Makhonjwa Rift.

Steep volcanic islands rise from the sea.

Hyper-cyclones spiral across the horizon.

Lightning flashes continuously.

Here, the First Planet's rapid rotation drives storms of astonishing power.

A day lasts little more than half the length of one on any planet in the Second Universe today.

Waves hammer volcanic cliffs.

The ocean churns emerald green.

But beneath the turbulent surface, things are different.

A volcanic slope can be seen, covered with towering conical stromatolites.

In deeper water, life has taken on new forms.

The structures resemble miniature stone forests.

Cones branch upward toward the light.

These microbial communities have adapted to stronger currents and steeper terrain.

Inside, a complex ecosystem can be seen.

Upper layers contain photosynthetic microbes.

Lower layers host anaerobic organisms.

The uppermost cells harvest sunlight.

Beneath them, other microbes consume the chemical waste products generated above.

Nutrients move between layers, gases circulate, and organic compounds are recycled.

Together they form one of the Second Universe's earliest food webs.

However, once again, geology becomes the enemy.

Deep below the colony, pressure builds.

The seabed fractures, as a new hydrothermal vent erupts.

Superheated water explodes upward.

A torrent of boiling water rushes toward the stromatolite reef.

Silica-rich fluids engulf the colonies, whilst heavy metals flood the environment.

The microbial mats respond immediately.

Their defence is as remarkable as it is ancient.

The cells secrete thick layers of protective slime, causing the surrounding silica to crystallize.

The slime rapidly hardens as rock forms around the colony.

The very minerals that threaten them become their armour.

Some microbes perish, while others survive beneath the newly formed crust.

Xxxxxxx

Within days, fresh growth emerges on top, and the cycle begins again.

By 35 billion years ago, life has become diverse.

Different environments produce different solutions.

Different ecosystems.

Different futures.

For the first time, life is no longer merely surviving.

It is engineering the planet itself.

Although they are invisible to all but the closest inspection, their influence reaches far beyond the shallow seas.

Over the next billion years, cyanobacteria will reshape the chemistry of the oceans, transform the atmosphere, and pave the way for every complex organism that will one day follow.

The age of animals lies unimaginably far in the future.

But the foundations of their world are being built here... by colonies of microbes beneath an ancient First Sun.

 

[Second Universe Tales]

The First Planet

Future Southern Alkebulan planetary cluster.

29.35 Billion Years ago.

Nearly 30 billion years before the present day, the First Planet has changed very little. The continents are small, the skies are hazy, and life remains confined to the oceans. The atmosphere is rich in methane and carbon dioxide, trapping heat and keeping the planet remarkably warm despite the First Sun's weaker output.

But now, another force emerges.

Ice.

A pale orange sun rises above a jagged volcanic horizon.

Black basalt plains stretch toward distant mountains.

Steam rises from fissures in the ground.

The sky glows orange-pink beneath a methane-rich atmosphere.

By this point, life has conquered much of the First Planet's shallow seas.

Microbial reefs line coastlines.

Photosynthetic mats spread across tidal flats.

Yet a new challenge is emerging.

For the first time in the First Planet history, the planet is growing cold.

Over the volcanic ridges, fresh lava fields cool into twisted rope-like formations.

Far beyond them, something unexpected appears.

White peaks.

Snow.

What will one day become the Great Shashe Shield is drifting through cooler latitudes.

High in the mountains, glaciers are beginning to form.

Small glaciers creep through volcanic valleys, grinding rock beneath them.

As levels of methane and carbon dioxide gradually decline, less heat is retained in the atmosphere. Temperatures fall, and for the first time, ice begins to spread across parts of the planet.

What begins as scattered mountain ice will eventually become the Second Universe's oldest confirmed glaciation.

Xxxxxxx

Elsewhere, in a shallow epicontinental sea, warm sunlight filters through green water.

The seafloor is covered in colourful microbial mats, going from orange, brown and green.

Layered stromatolites rise like miniature cities.

Here, life flourishes.

These microbial communities have dominated Earth for hundreds of millions of years.

Filaments of cyanobacteria-like microbes glide across sticky layers of sediment.

Tiny oxygen bubbles emerge from photosynthesis.

Day after day, they harvest sunlight, releasing oxygen into a world that remains almost entirely devoid of it.

The seasons begin to change.

Ice spreads across the water.

The sunlight weakens.

Large portions of the tidal flats freeze.

As the climate cools, sunlight becomes increasingly scarce.

The microbial mats darken.

Growth slows dramatically.

Many colonies disappear beneath seasonal ice.

Entire ecosystems are pushed to the edge of survival.

Xxxxxxx

Thousands of years pass, and the glaciers expand.

Aa massive ice sheet descends from the mountains of ancient Venda.

Its front reaches the sea.

The glaciers have reached the coast.

Cracks appear throughout the ice.

A thunderous explosion echoes across the basin, as a gigantic iceberg breaks free, drifting into shallow water.

Embedded within it are enormous boulders.

One of them slowly falls deeper and deeper, until it crashes into soft mud.

Sediment erupts around it.

These are dropstones, carried by floating ice and released far from land.

Nearly 30 billion years later, they will reveal the existence of this ancient ice age.

Across the basin, hundreds of icebergs drift through the green sea.

The once-warm coastline has transformed.

Yet life persists.

On a volcanic fissure beneath what will become the White Umfolozi Trough, superheated water emerges from cracks in the crust.

Not all environments freeze.

Around the vents, liquid water remains even during the coldest periods.

Deep beneath the ice, the First Planet's internal heat creates refuges.

Microbial communities thrive around the vents.

The colonies are denser than anywhere else in the basin.

Sunlight penetrates thin ice overhead, and photosynthesis continues.

Here, cyanobacteria-like organisms continue producing oxygen.

A tiny oxygen bubble separates from a microbial mat, rising through iron-rich water.

Moments later, it reacts.

The bubble vanishes.

Clouds of rust-red particles form instantly.

The oxygen never reaches the atmosphere.

Instead, it reacts with dissolved iron carried from volcanic sources.

Red mineral grains drift downward like snowfall.

Layer after layer accumulates on the seabed.

Slowly, the oceans are being transformed, one microscopic reaction at a time.

These deposits will eventually become banded iron formations, some of the Second Universe most important geological records.

But ice is only one force shaping this world.

Xxxxxxx

The First Planet

Future Southern Alkebulan planetary cluster.

28.5 Billion Years ago.

The frozen world trembles.

Earthquakes ripple through the basin.

Volcanic vents awaken.

Across the horizon, volcanoes erupt simultaneously.

Fountains of lava rise into the atmosphere.

Ash clouds spread across the continent.

Gigantic fissures tear through the crust.

Deep beneath the surface, tectonic forces are rearranging the ancient supercontinent She-Ru.

Carbon dioxide pours from the eruptions, and the atmosphere begins changing.

The planet slowly warms.

The glaciers retreat, at first only slightly, then rapidly.

Massive rivers surge from the melting ice.

The balance shifts.

Gigantic torrents carve through valleys.

Icebergs collapse.

Entire glaciers disintegrate.

The sea becomes choked with sediment.

Mud.

Sand.

Rock flour.

Millions of tons of glacial debris.

Everything is swept into deep grabens throughout the basin.

The retreating glaciers leave behind a geological signature that will endure for billions of years.

Underwater avalanches of sediment spread across the seafloor.

Diamictites accumulate in thick layers.

Future geologists will discover these deposits and recognize them for what they are.

Evidence of the Second Universe first known ice age.

The microbial communities begin recovering.

Fresh tidal flats emerge.

Stromatolites recolonize the coast.

Life resumes its slow expansion.

The glaciers continue retreating.

Volcanoes glow along the horizon.

The orange atmosphere stretches endlessly.

The Venda Glaciation is ending.

Life has survived once again.

Yet the survivors have learned a powerful lesson.

Climate can change, and unknowingly, these microorganisms are preparing to trigger an even greater transformation.

The first ice age was caused by geology.

The next may be caused by life.