Mankind had learned to late of the Sun’s impending extinguishment, and although the great celestial mass would remain, fixed in the center of all things, we no longer would benefit from his atomic fusions, his warmth, his Light. The hydrogen had run out, time had run out; great migrations would have to occur. The freeze would happen suddenly and with complete disregard for humanities proclivity for more temperate environs. Our only hope, we were told, was leave, or rebuild underground, near to the unremitting heat and light of Earth’s mantle.
Time had been short, but man has an amazing capacity for growth. Our actions had been swift and we had prepared as best we could. Most had left, years ago now. Drifting in never ending slumber, searching for a new star to warm them. Ironically, they live in perpetual darkness, asleep for a possible millennia, waiting for resolution. I, among few others, remained. The remnants of a once flourishing world now flocked to the warm deep breadths exhaled in volcanic regions, to the safety and embrace of Earth’s still beating heart.
Now all that was left of mankind stood against the chilling salt breeze of the surrounding Oceans. Gazing into the last light of a dead Sun, the final rays already emitted; only minutes remained while they traveled their great distance. Only time, reflecting the great distance continuously bridged by the efforts of violent otherworldly reactions, was allowing this last respite from the unfamiliar permanence of night. Man’s perception of time’s linearity was fast folding, yielding to the infinite permanence of which cyclical behaviors no longer held sway. Visible cycles of night and day, the phases of our solemn moon, all would soon be mere retrospection. Standing here, on the continuously changing volcanic coastline, I feel the warm light upon my skin, the last somnolent efforts of our great star. Soon darkness would grip the world in its quiet occupation, and I remain undisturbed by the implications.
Humanity stands quietly, waiting for the bright lingering solar voyagers to end their journey, to land upon our skin and warm us one last time. Suddenly, the last rays of light kiss our cheeks goodbye and, the great orb that had been so instrumental in the origins of life, went dark; everything went dark. These final moments of placidity gave way to growing celerity, and the masses of people began to weep, embrace, turn, and hurriedly move underground swathed in the uncomfortable and feeble imitation of Man’s artificial light. I linger, staring fruitlessly towards what had been the horizon; my vision passing uncontrollably into the stars but never making it to the Light. My resignation is complete. I could not lose in any of this since I was unable to win; without a victor there is no fear of being conquered. My thoughts turned to those who had long ago left our cooling world; I begin to miss the silhouettes of people I knew. They had begged me to retreat, to give into to eternal sleep, to journey the stars for a new home; but I remained immovable. Mankind could survive I had told them. We are that mighty. We are now the Light.