The End

By AngusEcrivain

The wind howled. Not literally, of course. Wind, generally, did not have much mental capacity, and one would generally think that to be a necessity when talking about things that require forethought.

But howl it did. To say it was a shitty night would have been the second cousin twice removed of all understatements.

It was raining, too. Cats and dogs. Again, not literally, though it's likely in this case, such clarification is unnecessary.

And there was the smell of burning in the air. Mostly, it has to be said, because everything was on fire - actually literally, in this case.

The world burned, and even if there had been anyone around to do anything about it (which there wasn't, because Earth was no longer capable of sustaining life) they would not have known where to start. It was well and truly the end or at least, Earth's end.

Mankind lived on, of course. If there was one thing Mankind was good at, it was surviving despite the odds. But considering the species in question had colonised almost two-thirds of the Known Universe (known to them, of course, which in actual fact meant they had successfully colonised a little over a one hundred and twenty eighth of the Actual Universe but still, impressive as all shit) and had cities housing multiples of billions of people on a little over thirteen thousand planets, it's probably fair to say they were likely to be sticking around for some time.

But this isn't a story about the continuing adventures and many, many, misadventures of Mankind. With that in mind, let's get back to the complete and total destruction of Earth and, in fact, the entire Sol Star System.

Mercury had already gone, as had Venus and the asteroid belt (discovered some time in the late twenty-first century) that once orbited between the two. In fact the state of the Sol Star, so close to the end of its life, meant that Pluto was a relatively temperate world. Still a little on the chilly side but not uncomfortably so, and its deep oceans rich with gigantic and terrifying marine life (that had always been there, of course) would've made for some pretty epic episodes of Deadliest Catch, had the situation been a little different.

But the final remnants of oxygen on Earth fuelled the flames, while the engorged Sol Star fed on the planet's atmosphere, layer by layer.

Had there been anyone there to see it, it would likely have been quite the sight to behold, though of course not even the hardiest of Earth's former residents were capable of withstanding the planet's final Fuck You to the countless species who had used and abused it to some meaure or other.

Perhaps the most concerning thing, though concerning might not be the correct word to use, is that only a single, solitary starship, carrying a small number of dignitaries from various colonies and worlds of Mankind's Galactic Empire, were there to see it - at a distance of about fifteen lightyears, of course. It really was more ceremonial than anything else. Humans had not called Earth home for thousands upon thousands of years, and as such not a single pang of guilt was felt when shown upon the vast viewing screen the final layers of atmosphere were stripped by the Sol Star and within moments the flames went out. With them, went Mankind's ancestral home.

And that, as they say, was that.