Pleistocene Era

The Pleistocene era stretches before them as a frozen expanse, its cold breath visible in the thin, brittle air that stings their lungs with every breath. The ground beneath their boots is a patchwork of thawing permafrost and slick ice, the ground uneven and treacherous where glaciers once ground the earth down to bedrock. Sparse patches of stunted vegetation cling to existence, their leaves brittle and encased in rime despite the pale sunlight filtering through the thin cloud cover. The horizon is a jagged line of ice cliffs and distant, snow-capped peaks, their white slopes reflecting a cold, unrelenting light that bleaches the world of color. The air carries the sharp tang of wet fur and damp earth, cut through with the metallic scent of melted ice—underneath it all, the faint musk of something vast and ancient slumbering just beyond sight. The wind whispers through the skeletal remains of long-dead creatures jutting from the ground like broken gravestones.