FINAL CHAPTER
Jake
I look out today and see the bodies. We had won. Or had we?
When the human race discovered they were being invaded they responded swiftly, but not swift enough. Atomic wars, Quantum Viruses, and everything else that could hurt us were unleashed. We unleashed them back.
The Andalites said they'd be back. But they had left us for dead, impossible to retrieve our species from the brink of extinction.
Some called it World War 3. Others called it the World Wars 3 thru 300. It was big enough to overpower both those definitions.
The Yeerks had been hit hard off the planet and we were their last hold. We fought.
To the death.
I look at the bodies littering the ground, how many millions had died. How many billions.
We fought valiantly the species of the galaxy would say. We defeated the last of the Yeerks. Or had we?
So many unanswered questions. The blood would have ran and drenched everything, but the bodies were freezing cold from the frigid temperatures of the new ice age. Nuclear winter.
So few survived. No Yeerks. Possibly a hundred humans. So little left. It was too little to rebuild.
Or was it?
Today we have nothing left but us and out own thoughts. Bodies lie in piles. No one goes outside. Most animals are dead. But not all.
The wind blows furiously whipping at the last blades of grass. Grass that has the corpses of children among the blades.
This planet is not owned by the Yeerks. But probably not owned by humans much longer either.
Now our last salvation, that we killed the Yeerks, is destroyed. They have been discovered with 10 other planets. Our sky, now the dimmest gray at noon, darker than space at night, offered little hope.
But as long as we live there is hope. My name is Jake. That can't tell you much, and it probably never will.
But two sentences hold the last and final hope for our galaxy and the human race.
I am an Animorph.
Together we fight.
Jake
I look out today and see the bodies. We had won. Or had we?
When the human race discovered they were being invaded they responded swiftly, but not swift enough. Atomic wars, Quantum Viruses, and everything else that could hurt us were unleashed. We unleashed them back.
The Andalites said they'd be back. But they had left us for dead, impossible to retrieve our species from the brink of extinction.
Some called it World War 3. Others called it the World Wars 3 thru 300. It was big enough to overpower both those definitions.
The Yeerks had been hit hard off the planet and we were their last hold. We fought.
To the death.
I look at the bodies littering the ground, how many millions had died. How many billions.
We fought valiantly the species of the galaxy would say. We defeated the last of the Yeerks. Or had we?
So many unanswered questions. The blood would have ran and drenched everything, but the bodies were freezing cold from the frigid temperatures of the new ice age. Nuclear winter.
So few survived. No Yeerks. Possibly a hundred humans. So little left. It was too little to rebuild.
Or was it?
Today we have nothing left but us and out own thoughts. Bodies lie in piles. No one goes outside. Most animals are dead. But not all.
The wind blows furiously whipping at the last blades of grass. Grass that has the corpses of children among the blades.
This planet is not owned by the Yeerks. But probably not owned by humans much longer either.
Now our last salvation, that we killed the Yeerks, is destroyed. They have been discovered with 10 other planets. Our sky, now the dimmest gray at noon, darker than space at night, offered little hope.
But as long as we live there is hope. My name is Jake. That can't tell you much, and it probably never will.
But two sentences hold the last and final hope for our galaxy and the human race.
I am an Animorph.
Together we fight.