The   e x p a n d i n g   ice

90 million and 40,000 years into the future

The predictions were correct. 

The Antarctic ice sheets, vast and merciless, are advancing ever northward, swallowing the last glimpses of life. At a chilling rate of one meter every 10 years, the ice has consumed a substantial part of the Sanctuary Peninsula, shrinking its borders and thinning these ecosystems, once teeming with life. The air is colder. And the silence, broken only by the winds screaming across frozen plains, grows louder as life organisms decline.

Gone are the erosion-poles, once resilient, now mere memories lost to the frost. The snow brumbles, last member of a long-lived goose group, are highly endangered. One population clings precariously to existence in the east, while those in the west is fastly fading into oblivion. Their habitat, once rich with shrubs and life, now favors new competitors: the relentless trenchcrawlers and tramplerats, who march in step with the ice, thriving where less comeptitive species falter.
But this is no isolated tragedy. The hard tundra stottmice, sturdy creatures of the Greenrock, now face a bitter end, unable to endure the increasing brutality of their world. The momovoles, whose populations collapse more frequently with each passing year, leave the sneaking carniere in a desperate plight. What was once a world of balance is now a tottering web of life, its threads snapping one by one.

Even the mighty Seamount, long a bastion of milder climes and life, is falling under the weight of longer winters and the rise of a trenchcrawler ecomorph that is better suited for survival in these harsh new conditions. Despite this, even the hardiest of creatures—trenchcrawlers, tramplerats, and tundra hoofpoles, are also dwindling, their resilience tested to the breaking point. Their futile efforts to adapt to shrinking habitats are not survival strategies, but the last flailings of the doomed. The very lands they colonize in desperation will soon become dangerous ecological traps, as the relentless ice chokes out the last slivers of warmth.

The end is near. After nearly 90 million years, the age of resurgence of terrestrial life on Antarctica is drawing to a close, the ice stretching its fingers toward everything that remains. The white void, the white nullity, returns to reclaim what it lost million of years ago. 

Nothing can stop it. Nothing can stand in its way...

...or maybe not.

E̴̡̙͎̰̰͈̅͒͌̐ͅŖ̴̡͙̤̩̯̜͙͍͍̩̗̭̐̈̈́͐̽̊̀̿͌̄̏O̷͎̘̥̓͋̿̓̍̈̍͌̕͝͝ͅR̵̹̲̲͈͕̥̟̎̽̽̍̏Ŗ̵̡̡̡̦͈̻͍̺͒͊ͅ ̵͕͖̪̩̬̥̝̖͍̥̰̲̺̭̦̈́̍̀̇͐̋͘c̶̢̪͉͎͖̤͎̮̣̞̰̙͎̐́̀̉̈̒̄̏̊͋̏̕͝ơ̶̢̨̘̣͍̩̫̩͚̩͓̣͔̞̌͌͋̏͊̈͌͜͠n̷̖̯̅̏̍̔̃̆̌̋̄́̓͋̕̚͠f̴͎̦͖̼̱̦̗͈̗̏̐̿̑̇̆͘l̶̡̯̮̲̬̺̥͍̦̀͌͛̑̍̂̓̇̿̔͜͝i̷̡̖̺͓̬̠͉̦̹̹̝͎͊̐̈́̏̉̾͂̎̅̂͘̚c̴̗̘͓̖͒̉̒͌̽͛́̕̕͠ͅṱ̶̣̞̼̲̘̯͚̪̠̻͂͒̓͐̊̓̅̊̚ù̵͉̞̞͚͖̬͍̄͊̇͂̐̈̀̈́̈̚̕̚ą̵̫̺̪̥̺̮͇̫͙̯̟͎̙͊͌̈͊̂̎̆́̋̚̚ͅļ̶̛̜̜͇̖̻̠͍̃̊̇̈́́̀͆̂́̀ ̴̨̡̜̠̗̖̤̖̘̤̋͛̌́̍͛p̴̲̤̺̻̪͇͙̞̤̒̓̈̾̾̾̏̊̀͝ŕ̶̖̞͇̻̺͉̟̻̗̾̈́̓̃̏͐͝ͅͅǫ̴̡̟͕̹̤̟̊̎̚m̴̲͂̅̈p̶̧̛̼̟͍͖̠͕̼̝͎͙̩̼͖̎̆̏̽̓̏͛́͝ͅt̸̮͔̫̗̣̟̺̏͋̈̊̽́͐͋̈́̆̓̚̚͝s̵̢̡͓̪͙̄̐̉͗̋̈̂̉̉̊͋̓͝:̷̨̛͙̭̳̜̞̠̤͈̤̗͇͍̞̍̒̇͑̍̿̆̇̀̓͘̚ ̵̠̮͛n̴̢̖̱̭͕̝̼̫̳̘̔͂̋͐͜ơ̶̢͓͉̫̤̞͖̬͈͕̗͇͑͑̽́̒ ̷̛͔̏̃̈́̓̋̈́͛̓̒̇̇͘͠c̸̨̮̥̦̲̠̳̓̈́̆ó̸͉̲͙̥̦̜̳̫͙̌͆̇̎͛͜n̷̢̨̡̩͚̖̮̫͔̘̯̂͐̏̏ẗ̶̼͉̈̍͆́̕͠ͅi̵̢͖̼̼̲̿͂̎́́̆̓̑̄͗̕͘͜͠ņ̷̞̗̖͓̫̹̺̦̞̌̇̈́̍͌͊͂́̅̈́̒͊͗̈͝ë̶̢̛̛̳͇̦̥̺͈̙̌̈̑͋͗͂̈́́̅̉́͜͝ͅṋ̵͂̈͌̑́̂̆̚͜͠t̴͙͙̼͓͍̍͗͌͆͘ ̸̫̺͎͚̮̰̜͈͙̗̦͉͔̄̿̀̎̋̇͜͠ͅf̸̦̹͕̠̣̯͑̋o̶̡͈̲͈͔͋̓̊̑̾͊̑̓̐̿̎̈́̎͝ų̶̢̙̼̫̥̗̫̻̰̐̌̓́̀́͐̃̆̀͑͑͘n̴͎̉͑̊̇͐̀̆̇͋͑̉͗̕͠͝d̵̨͍̥̼̲͍̻̙̬̘̰̘̫̋̓͛͆̊̾͌̕͠ͅͅ