The Apocalypse

@The_Apocalypse is the end of the physical and spiritual world — a fate most @Garou believe is already unfolding. Born of relentless human greed and consumption, it is not a single cataclysm, but an ongoing death spiral.

War. Famine. Pestilence. Death. The world ends not with a bang, but with a long, mournful howl. In the Capitalocene, oceans turn to acid, forests vanish, the climate overheats, and species vanish forever — all to feed an appetite that can never be sated. Autocrats rise, empowering militaries and police while the people they claim to protect starve and sicken.

To most humans, life “goes on.” Screens pour out endless distractions — streaming, sports, outrage for hire. Pundits, backed by billionaire patrons, stoke division and rage. Debt chains the masses: work to pay for the car to drive to work. Hustle. Buy. Discard. Relax. Work harder. Consume. The frog doesn’t notice the boiling water.

Material decay breeds spiritual rot, luring predatory spirits and inviting further disaster. Greed becomes virtue, cruelty becomes power, and “normal” is nothing more than a chain of economic, humanitarian, ecological, and existential crises.

By any sane measure, the Apocalypse is already here. Entropy has won. Humanity rides the corpse of the world into the grave, chasing one last thrill before the seas rise and the air becomes too poisoned to breathe. The spirit world, poisoned in turn, recoils from the physical, its denizens increasingly hostile. If it is the shadow of the world, then it is a shadow seeking freedom from its source — excising the cancer of flesh, rejecting the material entirely.

Through this dying world hunt the Garou, werewolves who have long foretold Gaia’s death. Since ancient times they believed themselves Gaia’s defenders, tasked to cull her enemies and avert the Apocalypse. But that role has failed. The only Garou who still claim the end can be prevented — or that it came and was repelled — are clinging to denial, betrayed Gaia for her sister Luna or spiral now into madness.

The world does not see them as protectors. It sees only monsters: blood-soaked predators from the darkest corners of memory. Deep in the human mind lingers the echo of mythic purges the Garou say they once carried out. Even now, their presence sparks primal terror, sending people fleeing or collapsing in panic.

Yet despite their power, the Garou cannot save the world by force alone. Their tragedy is that they are weapons, forged for violence in an age where violence often makes wounds fester. But to stand idle is to watch scavengers pick Gaia’s bones. Their choice is simple, if bitter: join humanity in waiting for the end, side with the despoilers to hasten ruin — or fight, and make what difference they can, raging against the dying of the light. Or...abandon Gaia all together, embracing her sister @Luna as the new mistress instead.