Nobody had predicted them, the diseases. Nobody had the ability to. Some had known of them, of course. They had known of them well before they spread. But they had thought that the facilities could contain them. The governments that ran the facilities thought they had the power to stop the diseases from spreading if there were a breakout.

They had all thought wrong.

The diseases they were all making were specifically viruses, as viruses are harder to kill than a bacterial illness. They had tried bacteria first, but they all realized very quickly it was too weak to work. With a bacterial illness, it usually took some heat, some pills, and some rest, before it was killed by the host. Viruses, however, hide. A virus will hide in a cell, changing what the cell produces to be nearly invisible while it reproduces. This meant that it takes time to do damage before it reveals itself.

And when the Old World hosts went home after a night of experimentation, they had no clue that they had been spreading Death to any and every being they had encountered. Nor did they know it the day after. And those they infected didn't know the day after their encounter. And the ones they encountered didn't know.

And the chain continues.

It made it's way to the Emperors, and the Princesses, and the Sultans. To the Queens and Dictators and Presidents.

And once the Rulers knew of the infection, they did the only thing one can do when you've been given a death sentence.

The lashed out.

The first battle in thousands of years had started, from what the citizens knew, over a stomach bug. Or a sniffle. Or maybe a cough. Something nearly all of them had at one time or another. Something they all were starting to get.

And if they had been told they were going to die from it, they would have lashed out too. The Rulers had decided that it would be better to wait to tell them. Or, in the case of the Queen, to die before telling them.

The diseases, known by the names of Fiji, Dean, and Drow, among others, proceeded to kill. They killed the Specialists first. Then the people of the world.

But not all of the world's people were infected. Some were immune. Others had prepared for Armageddon or The Passing. The unicorn survivors were put in charge of the sun and moon, the pegasai in charge of weather, earth ponies in charge of crops. Griffins were armies, Saddle Arabian horses distributed products of the earth ponies among the survivors. Minotaur were too proud to help, and left to survive on their own. As did some of the other survivors.

They all lived in the Old World no longer. The Old World was gone. The world had moved on. The End World is what was left in it's place.

And hundreds of years later, nothing changed.

Until the Black Pony fled across the desert.

And the Spellslinger followed.

Author's Note

If I used any tropes that you deem idiotic or amateur, please direct me to the appropriate TV Tropes page.

I'm looking for more pre-readers, if any of you are interested. And I am fully aware that these past two chapters were just over 1000 words combined. That was intentional. I'm gonna set a goal to make the actual first chapter a minimum of 1500 words, or a maximum of 2500 words. I'm gonna try to stick to King's chapter setup between The Stand and The Dark Tower.
Again, thanks for reading.

The Stand is 1500 pages, and The Dark Tower is 7 books or more. I'm gonna take a hell of a long time to finish them.