I can't remember much. Eternity tends to wipe a lot away. I was human, at one point I think. Maybe I still am. I'm not sure. It's hard to know if you're human when everyone else around you just keeps blinking into and out of existence. The human experience is a unique one, with mortality as a focal point to existence. So what happens to a human who loses that focal point? Do they remain human?
I can't remember anything really before this existence. I remember fragments, vague and void of any emotional connection. I think I had a wife, maybe children. I remember a community I was once a part of, but I can't remember where or when that was. I remember voices, strange and ethereal. I remember someone, or a group of them, reaching out to me. I can't remember why, or how I came to achieve this. Eternal life must have sounded fantastic to me at the time. I'm guessing it did. Or maybe it wasn't a choice at all. Maybe it was forced upon me. Or maybe I always had it. Maybe the voices never existed at all. Maybe my half remembered family didn't exist either. I can never make out specifics.
I remember a few highlights throughout history, often vaguely though. Plagues, wars, famines. I remember humans leaving earth, that I remember well. Not specifically the reasons, but the feeling that came with abandoning our earth. It hurt. There were tears, pained cries as the human race thrust itself outwards into the stars. Even in my state, which has rarely felt anything that could be described as emotions, I remember feeling a great sense of loss.
How long it has been since then I cannot say for sure. Colonies came and went, empires spanned across the stars and contracted once again. Life forms fought over resources, shared knowledge, and faded away together.
The humans are gone now though, that much I know. I can not recall the last time I have seen anyone from the species I once called my own. Other civilisations came and went, but honestly, I think I stopped paying attention by then. I was drifting through a universe I didn't understand, but somehow knew all too well. Being the last to be seen as my kind seemed strange at first. Everywhere I went there were onlookers, scientists analyzing me, sages coming to me for wisdom. I can not remember what I told them. If I were to guess though, standing where I am now, I would have told them there was no point. To any of it. To leave me, stop hearing what I had to say, and to live their lives while they had it. Their lives always seemed so short to me, so fleeting, it would pain me to see them waste their time trying to learn from someone so far outside of their struggles. So far from the mortality they would face in a relative blink of an eye. Still they would come though, still desperate to understand a state they could never understand from a being of the long forgotten human race.
I feel that it is coming to an end though. There is a tension I have never known. No species stands stronger than a few desperate stragglers, clinging onto existence. Civilisation in any form is now an ancient relic. A thing of the past. Around me is barely ruins anymore, having long since been claimed by whichever planet I happen to be on. I stand here, for how long I have been I could not say. I am looking up at the sky. there are never any stars anymore. The world is cold, lightless. Around me is only decay. I feel that I can hear music, but from what instrument I could not guess. It is sad, mournful, and heavy. It fills my thoughts, I can not tell if it is coming from outside of me, or if it exists only within my mind.
I stand here now, that last human in the midst of a dying universe, full of desperate creatures spanned across existence, they cling to hope they know full well is foolish.
I feel it ending now. A rush of air around me as gravity finally gives into itself and pulls what little is left of this universe into itself once more, to be reunited with itself. I am not sure what is after this, or if I can even be after this. All I know is that it is over now. That the universe that I came to find myself in will be no longer. I will never have answers to my questions. Why me? What was the point of all this? Of my endless existence, existence in and of itself, if there was ever a meaning to these things, it was something I will never know.
The sky is filled with heat, and a light I could never have comprehended. The moment is instantaneous, but seems almost to linger. It is as if the universe is relishing it's final moments. I don't know what to think. What to feel. I don't know if I hope to survive this, or if I hope to finally be at rest. Is this my mortality? Is this the moment I face the great thereafter?
