A biting wind circled over the frozen, dank plain, raising clouds of dust to the barely glimmering edge of the sky. The sun reluctantly made its way through the gloomy firmament: dim, gloomy-crimson, frozen on the line of night and day merged into one. Sharp flashes illuminated the space, piercing the gloomy sky, in helpless despair striking the ground with a whip of discharges, as if trying to restart a stopped heart. Unsuccessfully, hopelessly - the dim world is dead. Only the wind howled with a pitiful sob among the gouged rocks, carrying dust over the lifeless plain under the cold, barely dawning sun, breaking the dried grasses, crumbling with a glassy sound into decayed ashes.  Time will pass, the wind will subside, the oceans will dry up, the mountains will collapse, changing the appearance of the planet, erasing the last traces of humanity, which has violated the immutable Cosmic laws and is disconnected from the Ring of the Universal Mind.