The Last Sunset
At the end, the last of humanity had gathered in one place to watch the sun set one final time. No-one seemed to be aware of how the consensus had emerged, but on that long beach over-looking the ocean millions of them had gathered, most merely projections or copies assembled for the purpose, but thousands had made the trip in person from across the cosmos, to the see the sun pass into history. It was artifical of course, as you could simply follow the sun around the horizon to witness it’s death, but sometimes romance trumps physics, it seemed, and so only only a few chose the nomadic path along the line of sunset.
Most of the gathered wore the old bipedal skins that were a long a relic, occasional fashon trends notwithstanding. Every face, it seemed, from every era, stood silent as the sky grew orange, some chosen for past fame, some for a recognition of heritage, some simply a pastiche. Gods and Monsters danced in the twilight, the whole spectrum of humanities horror and grace commemorated under the last light of it’s ultimate witness. There was song, and tears, and a sense that perhaps this was the last chance for the children of the sun to stand so united, as the disparate paths across the stars had changed them all so much from where they begun.
An hour into the natural darkness and the sun finally went out, its stabilising containment fields, keeping humanities cradle a place of pilgrimage long after it should have been an arid wasteland, failing at last. The unimaginable mass of the star fell into itself, a darkened, seething mass collapsing in seconds before reigniting is desperate fury. For those on the beach, there was one, last, brilliant dawn, the sky flashing to red, to white, as the sun finally achieved it’s Titanic destiny and swallowed up its rocky, life-bearing children.
Those who were there, restored to their real bodies, or subsumed back into the data-streams, or simply ripped through the fabric of space-time to safety by watching machines, went back to their lives, and squabbles, having seen something wonderful and tragic; the end of humanities childhood.