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90 million and 95,000 years into the future
It’s a misty day in the northern part of the Follia Plateau.
A placid muskox tramplerat is drinking in a meltwater stream, about 5 meters wide. It’s a young male who has recently left his herd in search of a new territory. Although muskox tramplerats are far more peaceful than their ancestors, the presence of too many males in a group becomes very stressful during the breeding period. For this reason, older males can rarely expel young males to increase their chances of reproduction. These rare occasions are crucial and beneficial for tramplerats to maintain a healthy genetic flow between populations, as the dispersal rate of this mammal is very low, even for males.
Although alone, no Antarctic animal can take down this young yet massive beast. At two years old, this rodent already weighs 200 kg, and even the hungriest carniere wouldn’t approach this animal without facing serious consequences.
On the opposite riverbank, two shadows slowly approach the giant rodent, who passively watches the arrival of the strangers. He has already recognized these two animals: they are a family of trenchcrawlers, a female and her young of the year, the only survivor of two chicks.
Unlike tramplerats, trenchcrawlers are more vulnerable when young and can be preyed upon by several predators, including carnienri, pinpiercers and, more rarely, ottofoxes and banchisaraptors. The yearling is still far from safe, but the mother’s protection has been crucial during this last critical months. Now it can follow its mother at the same pace and sometimes even faster.
Judging by its current health state, the young one will probably reach adulthood.
Unlike their southern counterparts, northern populations of tramplerats and trenchcrawlers are healthier and more abundant due to the milder temperatures of the northern Follia Plateau. These three are fortunate to be born here, where food is more diverse and nutritious, and the tundra steppe reaches its highest productivity.
As the tramplerat drinks, a fourth figure slowly approaches the river, this time where the fog is thicker. The tramplerat is no longer passive. It seems nervous but not frightened. He tries to recognize the figure, but he can’t associate it with any animal he’s seen in the past two years.
The tramplerat tries to interact with the creature, emitting a warning call. The figure in the mist suddenly stops. Then, after sniffing the air, it moves parallel to the three animals, staying hidden in the mist.
The mother trenchcrawler, confused by this unknown presence, goes into defense mode, calling back her young, who quickly hides near her legs.
It could be a carniere.
The figure stops again but soon resumes moving, this time running towards the tramplerat. The giant rodent slowly retreats while holding its ground, never taking its eyes off the shadow, which is now revealing its true identity as it emerges from the fog.
It looks like a carniere, but whiter. And larger, much larger. The tramplerat barely has time to react before the creature grips its back, and blood begins to pour out. The tramplerat screams in fear, unable to defend itself against the beast, which is almost its size. It slowly loses control of its hind limbs and starts limping away from the river. At this moment, the beast ends the tramplerat’s suffering, clamping its neck and tearing through it like butter.
The tramplerat collapses in the shallow water, which is now stained red.
Throughout this, the mother trenchcrawler hasn’t moved an inch, watching the scene just a few meters away. The creature turns its gaze toward the two birds. Its face is horrifying, a stark contrast between its almost pure white fur and the bright red blood dripping from its jaws. After one last look at its kill, the beast begins approaching the female trenchcrawler, who is still trying to scare away a creature three times her size.
Food that doesn’t run away. It’s like a dream for the monster.
With a single paw, the beast knocks down the female trenchcrawler, who gasps in pain. Her little son, unable to comprehend the gravity of the situation, watches the scene, staying as close to his mother as possible. In a last gamble, it tragically try to hide under the belly of the beast, mistaking the monster’s white body for his mother’s belly.
The young one will not reach adulthood.
The alien has arrived, and it has a name: borax. And it is not alone. They will not be alone.
A wind of change is blowing. Will the tables turn?
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