I apologize, firstly, for being an unfit narrator for these times, and secondly for the haste in which I write these words. The duty has fallen to me, whether or not I am worthy of it, for I may be the only human still remaining alive. As far as my knowledge currently extends it is entirely possible that I may be the last sentient creature left in the galaxy.

There was once a school of thought that believed technologically evolved humanity would eventually achieve immortality, either by merging with the intelligent machines they created or by transcending the physical flesh of their planet-evolved bodies through medical science or physics that we could not yet not comprehend; a “singularity” of intelligence leaving behind the scruffy universe of birth to explore and dream in dimensions that lie beyond the fabric of this mortal coil.

While many strange forms of humanity have proven to be intrepid and stubborn inhabitants of the galaxy, these philosophers and futurists who assumed a transcendent benevolence did not see their visions come to light… in fact they failed to incorporate the malign aspects of human nature into their hypotheses: selfishness, greed and egocentricity. They failed to see that this same mechanism of transcendence could just as easily birth a darker intellect with just as much omniscience; a hateful destructor lacking all empathy.

And yet… here we are. Or rather, here I am, imprisoned inside this sparse, dully vibrating metallic sphere, hurtling between stars on a false comet, with any luck bearing me to the dark void between the galaxies, a tiny seed-pod of humanity bearing witness to the last of the last. The end of everything.

I have seen the great cities and worlds of humanity fall; I have witnessed the earth torn in two, its insides cracked and spewed out, liquid iron and magma cooling in the freezing depths of space, fragments of cities, oceans, orbital space debris, everything flung about as if from a child rummaging recklessly through a drawer. And in this culmination, the extinction of our birthplace; the cold snuffing out of every blossom on the evolutionary tree, the rubble of every city ever built by humankind, the prismatic light that landed and sparkled on every sea and river and within the trees of the great forests and every creature of nature that dwelled within; annihilation rained down on them all, from the great Megalopolises to each and every grain of sand that once stirred and spread beneath the feet of Ozymandias.

Humanity lies scattered far beyond our fragile home-world, at least in this phase of the multiverse I inhabit; a great diaspora that has spanned several millennia; yet in only a handful of days I have borne witness to bleak news from every corner. As fast as the light can travel it brings word of destruction and chaos, of humanity’s end. I have since ceased all communication with the outside, lest I give myself away to the same fate… for I fear there is little hope that any life will escape this terrifying singularity. And yet, I know nothing for certain, locked in the silver confines of my cell, doomed to an eternal inertia that will continue long after I am gone.

I have little bandwidth to elaborate, and less hope that elaboration will find fertile soil in the cold dark, so I bid thee farewell, imagined reader, strange intrepid archaeologist of the future. I have compiled what data I can, in this shielded, quantum-entangled artifact. Should this vessel reach some intellect capable of salvaging it, I hope they will find some way to discern my meaning. And if not, then I suppose I send this transmission hopelessly into the void. Yet, what joy it is, to have existed in such times, to have seen and experienced all of this. If death is forever the end then at least I will cease to exist knowing that I did. Good luck to you all.


///TRANSMISSION ENDS