The year was 2028 and the fruits of Breadman's work culminate in a half moon smile lit from a screen. Unbeknownst to thousands of loyal fans across the remnants of society now 90% owned by OnlyFans, the fruits of his ultimate troll are about to play out. Everything-- every perplexed comment, every dick-in-hand with a pension for mutually assured destruction, every keyboard's ruined materials and all-- is about to lead to this single moment. His last bow. His ploy to forever be remembered. His game leading to his final family update and hurrah, a group therapy session for Demon Deals' rather taboo relationships. Breadman, insinuating an absolutely depraved group orgy, pulls out the rug. The session just ends in hugs, understandings, and conversations about the the meaning of all this and a wink to the audience that it is now your turn to turn the page.
Left in edging ruin and dilapidated apartments thousands anticipating the the peak in their lives that never was begin committing suicide in mass. The event, now referred to as 'medusas gaze' marked the moment were human activity seems to cease according to our records. It is, for lack of a better term, a period where time seems to slow down from the ever increasing speed mankind anxiously accelerated at in that period of time. The only thing that remains are these archives of human mating rituals and the one team, that subverted it all in a moment transience.
--Drewnagl, year 4047, first day of warming
