You tumble backwards into the tall grass as your chair ceases to exist. The Reality Manipulation software is gone, the computer is gone, the house is gone.
All evidence of the existence of Homo sapiens is gone.
As you instructed, clothing was never invented, and it’s because there has never existed the intelligence to invent it, nor the need -- instead of evolving into what you knew as humans, the species has barely evolved past the level of apes, still equipped with thick coats of hair.
If there’s any good news, it’s that your full realization of what happened lasted for only a few agonizing seconds, until your brain capacity dwindled to match the rest of your species, and you’re no longer able to form such complex thoughts.
Also, you happen to be the dominant male in your herd -- especially fortuitous since you’re eager to mate at the moment. You sniff the air towards the female creature that used to be your wife, then snort and turn away when you detect that she’s not in heat. But the other creature you can smell -- you galumph toward her, dragging your front paws through the grass.
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