Welcome back to Curious Archive.
This video is the third part of a series exploring the incredible speculative evolution project
of Serina, the world of birds.
Serina was created by Dylan Bajda — a terrific artist and worldbuilder.
I have links below where you can follow and support his work.
When we left off, Serina was home to a single supercontinent at the end of the Pangeacene.
Now it is the Ultimocene, the final era of Serina — and one more incredible than any
that came before.
At 250 million years post-establishment, the supercontinent has split into northern and
southern landmasses.
This period will see the rise of multiple forms of highly intelligent life.
And in much the same way that elephants, dolphins, crows, and humans — which as far as we know
are some of the most intelligent animals ever to exist — all happen to live in an overlapping
time period, a similar convergence will occur on Serina.
On the enormous grassland of the southern continent, many key species can be found:
like the successful Circuagodonts, who look unrecognizable from their roots as tiny fish
250 million years ago.
Giant Archangels flock nearby, a type of metamorph bird — a curious classification that will
define the Early Ultimocene.
And scavenging close by, a large bumblebager makes off with a young Circuagodont — foreshadowing
a rivalry between the two groups that will change Serina forever...
But we’re not there yet.
Right now, softbilled birds, the varied descendants of ancient water snuffles, are prospering
during the Ultimocene.
Organisms like the bludgebirds are now extinct, but another offshoot of the mittens, the southern
squid stork (or squork), are still going strong.
These intelligent creatures are omnivores, and use their tentacle-beaks to grab hold
of hidden worms and mollusks.
In temperate forests, another softbilled bird is the shy and reclusive gmu (moo), a horse-sized
herbivore that lives perpetually on alert.
Why would a creature of this size be so skittish?
The truth is, it has good reason to be.
Elsewhere in these forests lurk the Grappler — predators similar in build to the gmu
(moo), which are their preferred prey.
Their tentacle-beaks are lined with sharp teeth and tipped with talons, making them
deadly apex predators.
A different branch of softbills are the terries, a group that includes the hilariously-named
noots — whose facial-tentacles fused over time into one elongated, fleshy mouth.
When threatened, these birds are able to scoop up their egg and carry it against their chins,
where a small fold of feathered skin keeps it secure while they flee.
A related group are the neckbeards, who like the noots have an amusing name and carry their
eggs against their chins — although the neckbeard takes this new extreme by having
a more defined pouch to hold their eggs: allowing them to stop brooding on the ground at all.
In warmer forests, you can find the Lumberbeests, the largest living mucks on all of Serina
— standing up to twenty-five feet, or 7.6 meters tall, and weighing over two tons.
This group, however, is in the decline: with most now wandering the forests in isolation.
In the branches above, however, life flourishes.
Here, much-changed tree-dwelling tribbets swing near the bizarre, tentacled boras — an
offshoot of the softbilled mittens.
Fantastic forms of life indeed.
On the subject of fantastic forms, possibly no creatures are more unique than the changelings,
or metamorph birds.
Although metamorphs reach their peak in the early Ultimocene, their ancestry goes all
the way back to the Cryocene.
The metamorph line began with birds that laid small, shell-less eggs, which made the process
faster but led to their chicks being born extremely underdeveloped — almost looking
like bird tadpoles before they reached adulthood.
Over millions of years, this larva-like stage became more complex, with the tiny young developing
stronger forelimbs to move around more effectively before becoming adults.
Other metamorph embryos were laid in the water and became more fish-like, adapting for life
in an aquatic environment.
Millions of years on, the end result is perhaps the most adaptable and physically diverse
vertebrate clade (cl-aid) to ever exist.
Among their ranks are Zebra tweezle, bumblebee-sized birds that begin life as worm-like larva and
are among the smallest birds ever.
Another metamorph is the blue-throated boomsinger: one of the largest birds ever to walk the
land which stands up to fifty feet, or 15 and a quarter meters tall.
Some aquatic metamorphs like the Longbilled Pikebird have even abandoned their adult forms
all together through an extreme expression of neoteny — essentially becoming fish-like
organisms.
Truly incredible.
Other metamorph birds have a somewhat unfortunate lot in life, like the Dayflight Bird.
These extreme metamorphs begin as incredibly fish-like larvae.
They then cocoon themselves in a silken wrapping of their own saliva, which hardens into what
is effectively a second egg — within which they metamorphize into adults.
Tragically, however, the adults lack mouths.
The dayflights therefore live only a single day, during which they lay eggs to repeat
the cycle.
And if this sounds too out-of-the-box to evolve, know that real-world Mayfly insects have a
very similar lifecycle that ends in an adult form that lacks a mouth.
Perhaps the most impressive metamorph bird, however, is the The Stormsonor — a highly
migratory archangel with a wingspan of fifty feet, or over 15 meters: the largest flying
animals ever to exist.
Despite being larger than some airplanes, Stormsonors are gentle giants, named for their
eerie, echoing calls.
As previously stated, aside from the metamorph birds, one of the major themes of the Ultimocene
is the development of intelligence among many animal lineages.
In the oceans, the herbivorous Ringnecked Porplets and carnivorous Seastrikers are two
such examples.
Both species are social animals with keen minds.
The Seastrikers have learned to operate like sheepdogs, systematically herding the porplets
to create a consistent food source.
Considering how advanced — and similar — both species are, it’s an unsettling system,
proving nature can be quite cruel.
And nothing is quite as cruel as an ending.
In the words of the author: “as happens to everything in the cosmos from flowers to
stars, Serina itself is dying.”
The moon is starting to slowly cool down, and it will never warm up again.
As stated before, the Ultimocene will be the final era in the saga of Serina, the last
chapter in our great epic…
But before the curtain falls on Serina’s finale, there may still be time for something
truly incredible to occur.
Over the past several million years, one branch of the Circuagodonts has begun an extraordinary
transformation.
For eons, Circuagodonts have been unable to feed on tall trees due to their short necks.
But now, one species has specialized a body part that will allow them to do so.
Not their necks, but their ears.
From their hearing structure, Circuagodonts have developed antler-like mobile limbs that
are able to reach up and hook branches.
An adaptation which might one day have intriguing consequences.
Before that day comes, however, other branches of the tribbetheres are also doing pretty
well for themselves — rivaling the birds in diversity several millions of years after
crawling onto land.
Take the painted repandor: the widest-spread canithere on land in the early Ultimocene,
whose jaws have a unique shearing motion that helps them consume prey.
Or the thorngrazer, a hairless Molodont able to survive off bristly desert plants alone.
In the skies, the branch that became the Tribbats is also going strong: like the Blue-eared
Vibropteryx, a nectar-drinking specialist that uses a long brush-tipped tongue to gather
food.
And in the seas, yet another offshoot is becoming aquatic — like the Spotted Snailsmashers,
a strange looking group that feeds on various types of mollusks.
Between the metamorph birds and various tribbetheres, Serina is at an all-time high of biodiversity.
But now the moon is getting truly cold.
We are now in the Middle Ultimocene, and a new ice age is setting in.
In this new world, only the most adaptable will survive.
Sextacorn Thorngazers are one such species, which have become thick coated ice age herbivores
with specialized facial horns that give them a menacing look.
Despite appearances, these creatures aren’t overly aggressive, just interested in self-defense
from ice age predators.
Another curious-looking new arrival in the ice age are mammoth trunkos, descendants of
the neckbeards that have now developed both a longer beak-trunk and a truly robust neck-pouch
to carry their eggs in — which has come in handy in the cooling temperatures.
At this point in the ice age, the largest archangels are sadly in trouble, as the rapidly
cooling world is making their migratory patterns less and less effective.
Some archangels are adapting, however, by becoming smaller and less migratory offshoots
called Seraphs.
Examples include the Ptundra Pteese, which might not be as spectacular as their larger
relatives, but are much better adapted for this new world.
Closer to the equator, a story unlike any other is now at last set to begin.
Over the past several million years, a group of Circuagodonts called the Antleers, which
have become more intelligent with better antler-like manipulator appendages, find themselves blindsided
by a creature that hunts them with an astonishing degree of planning and foresight.
These lifeforms, the Gravediggers, are a descendant of the bumblebadgers.
While other predators evolved sharper teeth or longer claws to catch their prey, the gravedigger
has developed a bigger brain.
They have, incredibly, learned how to make traps by digging deep pits into the earth
with their powerful armclaws, and using their beaks to sharpen sticks which they place at
the bottom.
It’s a kind of trap the Antleers are helpless against.
But not for long.
By catching the less wary antleers, the gravediggers are inadvertently selecting for smarter and
smarter prey.
And so the evolutionary arms race is set into motion.
It will be perhaps the most rapid of any so far on Serina — as well as the most pivotal.
Soon, one particular type of Antleer — the standing Antleer, will become intelligent
enough to avoid traps: and therefore produce gravediggers with more effective trapping
abilities.
In time, the antleers and gravediggers both achieve sapience, able to use basic tools
and avoid each other.
While no longer predator and prey, a hatred had risen between both groups that would define
the coming era in unexpected ways.
The Standing Antleers have now become the Woodcrafters, one-of-a-kind looking social
organisms with highly expressive faces for communication and exceptionally advanced brains.
Woodcrafters have also developed a whistling language somewhat similar to the bugles of
an elk, and use spears to defend against predators — although they themselves are herbivores.
Spears aren’t the only things they’ve learned to craft, however.
As their name implies, Woodcrafters have learned to shape the trunks and branches of trees
into basket-like houses — as well as fences, bridges over rivers, or sculptures of beasts
or abstract creatures from lore.
For the Woodcrafters are developing a culture — one that is in large part defined by a
hatred of predators.
Meanwhile, the Gravediggers are achieving a similar level of brain-function.
While their marks on the world are subtler than the woodcrafters — often little more
than art carved into the sides of trees at the edge of their territory — they are still
marks of high intelligence.
However, the gravediggers are gloomily learning to be careful when they make these marks,
as it can attract dangers...
The Woodcrafters, which have at this point driven most predators from their environment
on a crusade to make a safer world, are now leaving their territory in search of more
predators to slay.
Once the prey of gravediggers, the Woodcrafter have turned the tables entirely.
Instead of acting in self-defense, they are now killing gravediggers in a misplaced crusade.
Eventually, however, an incredible transformation occurs.
As they expand out, Woodcrafters begin to encounter barrier trees made by Gravediggers
who never learned to stop making art.
At first, the Woodcrafters assume these markings are the work of some unfamiliar Woodcrafter
village.
After all, in their worldview, only they are intelligent enough to create art.
But there are no signs of others…
In the words of the author: ‘The woodcrafters had set out to create a world without monsters,
and it is only then that they realize that they have become them.”
With the revelation that they are not alone at their arbitrary pinnacle of life: that
the monstrous gravediggers they’d slain for years are intelligent just like they ares,
spreads through the woodcrafter groups.
And it is at this time of cultural uncertainty that the trajectory of the two species shifts
forever from a small choice.
An orphaned gravedigger infant, left alone after the death of their mother — one of
the last gravediggers hunted for sport — is taken in by an empathetic woodcrafter warrior-to-be.
This gravedigger child, aptly referred to as ‘Bridge,’ is at first regarded with
suspicion by the other Woodcrafters.
Soon, however, they’d learn to socialize with the group, displaying a personality and
emotional complexity normally hidden from outsiders.
Bridge would forge a path for cooperation between the two most intelligent species on
Serina.
The woodcrafters and the gravediggers, intertwined since their shared beginning — would break
a multi-million-year cycle of violence between intelligent predator and intelligent prey.
In time, other young Gravediggers following Bridge’s example would abandon their territorial
ways and imprint on Woodcrafters, and the woodcrafters would in turn accept the Gravediggers
into their society.
Eventually, the younger generations would never know a world where the antleers and
the gravedigger were enemies.
And whatever the future would hold, the two species would face it together.
So, what comes next?
Perhaps only tragedy awaits all life on Serina as it continues to cool, but it’s always
been a saga of both the good and the bad — a story of life and death, of extinction and
evolution.
In any case, for the time being, one thing is for sure: the mudwickets and the bumblets
sure came a long way.
Dylan Bajda has released some content set after this period, but I don’t want to dive
further into the future just yet until the whole project has been unveiled.
So it’s a story which will have to be told another time.
For now, this is the end of our three-part series.
If you find this speculative evolution epic as enthralling as I did, please follow and
support Dylan Bajada and his project using the links below.
And as always, thanks for watching.
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See you in the next video.