Through the impure sky, heavy with the soot and exhaust of human activity, the Sahara dust drifts northwards. It glides past temperate forests and icy tundra until it settles over the Arctic Circle. The old, more sensitive bears were the first to change. Their fur, once as pristine as fresh snow, absorbed the fine particles and bloomed into five distinct golden shades of desert sand.
The task seemed simple enough on paper: stop this phenomenon before the pure whiteness of the polar bears is lost forever. Expedition teams equipped with vacuum cannons and giant lint rollers braved the blizzards, attempting to restore the bears to their pristine state. Yet every attempt to scrub the creatures clean only revealed a deeper absurdity. The dust was not merely sitting on their coats; it was sinking into their DNA, whispering ancient heat to the frozen realm.
While the Arctic dyed itself in warm, tawny hues, a far greater peril brewed beneath the Saharan basement. The danger was right around the corner. Very soon, all the sand on the desert surface would be blown away towards the north, west, south and east by an unnatural tempest.
And what then? What will humankind find when the last fine grains are swept into the atmosphere?
I shall tell you the secret. Only a few of the world’s insane leaders have access to it.
Underneath all that scorching Saharan sand lies the purest ocean Earth has ever known. It is a subterranean abyss of crystal azure, preserved for millions of years from the toxic touch of surface light. Within its depths swim billions of new species, glowing with bioluminescent envy and eager to step out of the pure blue waters to replace us on this corrupt planet.
As the sand-coloured bears roam the ice caps, dreaming of dunes they have never seen, the desert crust begins to crack. The ocean below is rising, waiting for the sky to clear just enough to take its first deep breath.
