The forest survived the collapse... and perhaps became something else.

What remained was a forest that kept growing long after the world stopped. The deeper I went, the quieter everything became. No radio signal. No distant machinery. No signs of another survivor. Only cold air moving between the trees and the feeling that something unseen was moving with me. The watchtower should have been abandoned. The trail should have been empty. But every step felt observed. The forest didn't feel hostile. It felt familiar. As if it had been waiting long before I arrived. The world ended. The forest stayed. And I'm not sure it remained itself. Not music for comfort. Music for staying awake when the world goes quiet.