MyniQ

As time dissolved into eternal night, I wandered through abandoned streets where once the golden statues of achievement gleamed with fierce pride. The Last Command and Heaven's Gate still echoed in my mind - those first films that won hearts long ago.

The Academy Awards were but a distant memory now, replaced by the cold reality of survival. In this new world, the Oscars had become nothing more than tarnished relics of a forgotten era, their once-majestic presence reduced to mere rust on forgotten mantels.

Wings soared no longer in these skies - only the wind whispered tales of its former glory. Emil Jannings' face still haunted my dreams, though his body had long since turned to dust in some forgotten crypt. The Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel where all began now stood as a testament to what was lost.

I reached into the rubble of what once was civilization, pulling out a single Oscar from the ashes. Its surface bore witness to countless ceremonies and celebrations, each layer a story waiting to be told in the silence that now enveloped our world.