Hi ho...hi ho...its off to Canada E goes.
Chapter 7: Northward to Canada
The pull of the north was undeniable. Elias felt it like a homing beacon, a subtle but persistent tug on his consciousness. He had cleansed the Americas south of the equator; now, he had to turn his attention to the landmass to the north.
He began the long trek back, retracing his steps through the transformed landscapes of South America. The journey was different this time. He was no longer a stranger in a strange land, but a traveler on a familiar path. The animals recognized him, the forests seemed to welcome him, and he felt a sense of belonging he hadn't experienced since leaving Maine.
As he journeyed, he pondered the nature of his task. Was he truly cleansing the world, or was he simply… resetting it? Was he restoring a balance that had been lost, or was he erasing the entire human experiment? The questions gnawed at him, but he found no easy answers.
He reached North America, crossing the former border between Mexico and the United States. The landscape was different here, more familiar, yet also profoundly changed. The scars of human civilization were more recent, more raw.
He decided to start with Canada, the vast, untamed wilderness that stretched north of the United States. It was a land of towering mountains, of pristine lakes, of ancient forests, and of sprawling cities. And like the rest of the world, it bore the marks of human presence.
He began his journey in the east, in the Maritime provinces. He sang at the fishing villages, at the pulp mills, at the sprawling suburbs of Halifax and St. John's. The land responded to his song, the forests reclaiming the clearcuts, the rivers running clear and free.
He traveled westward, through Quebec and Ontario. He sang at the industrial heartland of Canada, at the sprawling metropolis of Montreal, at the bustling city of Toronto. The cities vanished, replaced by forests and meadows, by the sounds of nature.
He reached the Great Lakes again, but this time, he approached them from the north. He sang at the shores of Lake Ontario and Lake Huron, his voice echoing across the water, cleansing the pollution that had accumulated over centuries.
He continued westward, through Manitoba and Saskatchewan. He sang at the vast wheat fields, at the oil refineries, at the small towns and cities that dotted the prairie landscape. The prairies returned to their natural state, a sea of grass stretching to the horizon.
He reached Alberta, the land of the Rocky Mountains. He sang among the towering peaks and pristine lakes, his voice mingling with the cries of the eagles and the roar of the rivers. He sang at the oil sands, turning the scarred landscape back into a boreal forest.
He crossed the Rockies, a challenging but awe-inspiring journey. He sang in British Columbia, at the ancient rainforests, at the rugged coastline, at the bustling city of Vancouver. The rainforest reclaimed its own, the coastline became wild, and the city disappeared, replaced by the sounds of the forest.
His dirtbike, his faithful companion on this long journey, finally gave out in the interior of British Columbia. It sputtered and coughed, the engine wheezing its last, and then fell silent. Elias stared at it, a strange mix of sadness and acceptance in his heart.
He was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a vast expanse of wilderness. He was alone, without any means of transportation. He tried to fix the dirtbike, but it was beyond repair. The engine was dead, and he had no spare parts.
He sat beside the dirtbike for a long time, the silence of the forest pressing in on him. He had relied on this machine for so long, it had carried him across continents, and now it was gone. He felt a pang of loss, a sense of being stranded.
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the forest floor, Elias looked at the dirtbike one last time. It was just a machine, a collection of metal and plastic, but it had served its purpose. It had helped him on his quest, and now its journey was over.
A wave of wistful gratitude washed over him. He began to sing, a soft, mournful melody, a farewell to his fallen companion. He sang not with the intention of erasing, but with a sense of closure, of release.
As he sang, the dirtbike shimmered, its form blurring, and then it was gone, returned to the elements from which it had been made. Elias watched it disappear, a single tear tracing a path down his cheek.
He was alone now, truly alone, in the vast wilderness. But as he stood there, surrounded by the towering trees and the silent forest, he realized that he wasn't as alone as he thought.
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