Ends of and in a Cube

[WP] You push your way through the party and clink a champagne glass, “Ladies and gentlemen, we gather here at the end of the world. The last 24 hours of the apocalypse, after which the earth’s condition will trigger our safe house, and prison, to self-destruct. I would like to make a toast.”

*****

Cold. It was all Matthew could feel. Perhaps it was just a reflection of the state of his heart.

It was cold inside the Cube, and not unpleasantly so. Air conditioners and temperature conductors made the room feel cold and the air moist, to reflect the ideal nighttime conditions. It did not feel exactly like it would have, had it been a night before the Greatest Death, had they been out in the real world. The wind was a little too cold; the air a touch too moist. But it was close enough, to provide comfort before the end of everything.

The music bounced around the establishment, decorated in the guise of some elaborate restaurant, right down to the fancy, exuberant suits of the partygoers. Matt wandered around with his champagne, passing tables of laughing friends and drunk, horrible dancers, feeling somewhat alone.

The ambiance was set to dull the nerves, make one less aware of the present situation, and the reality of the time they were in. The atmosphere was intoxicating; indulge yourself, and you might well soon forget what you were in for, and what was to come.

The speakers played different music in different areas, switching language and style, decade, and culture. There was to be no exclusion on an occasion like this. The idea was to make every human left alive feel at home - every human, it seemed, except for Matt.

He stared out at the giant holographic screens, which stuttered between images of forests and large, grassy fields, oceans and rivers, and other things that had long since worn and died. All in a pitiable attempt to preserve the peace, to give a notion of normalcy, to get a feeble hold on normalcy and sanity. In a way, it disappointed him. This was the end. Hadn’t they had enough of illusions?

Against the wall, the ginormous digital timer ticked-ticked down to the very last second of the very last minute. An agonizing wait, years in the making, and then they had reached the crux of all their actions, the point in time

It was a miracle they had survived this long. 30 years since they had noticed it - the rising temperatures, the inexplicable expansion of the sun. 30 years since they had been able to calculate the moment of implosion. And afterward, 30 years were spent underground, hiding from the burning light.

Matt did not have many true connections. What was the use of connections anyway? He had been a bit nihilistic throughout most of his life, something he was now beginning to regret. What was the point of human relationships, he had thought if it was all set to go up in flames? What value was there in friends, family, securing a legacy, if there was no way for it to persist past your death? Why even bother to live at all?

Now he saw. He looked out at the tables, and the people sitting and sharing and sighing contentedly, hugging, whooping, toasting, crying a few final joyous tears. He caught a glimpse of emotions and experiences he could have been sharing, was supposed to be sharing, but could not afford to now. He saw and he knew - when you became aware there would be no tomorrow, nothing was more important than the day ahead.

The clock shuddered and went blank. The speakers, lights, all cut out. The holographic screens shattered in an instant. It was time. For the first time in 30 years, the outside world became clear.

Ruined. Cracked, molten soil, angry red clouds, withered plants, and ashen bones. Signs here and there of attempted experiments, last resorts, telescopes and capsules, and failure.

And a light, in the distance, brilliant white-blue, growing closer and closer and closer. He stared at it; they all did. Then he wondered if there was anything humanity could have done to avoid this outcome. Anything at all.

Then came a moment, in those last moments, when the world stopped. The light continued on to move forward, true, but there was no longer any sound inside the Cube. Everyone had come to a halt. Even the air seemed to freeze.

The hour had come, and Matt could feel it in his blood, bones, and indeed within every fiber of his being. In the end, there was no fight, no denial, just an acceptance of things as they had come to be, of the crescendo that had been reached.

It was not a horrible silence. It was, in fact, rather calming. Matt was surprised to feel a hand on his shoulder. He did not turn around to see who it was - there was no time, and he could not look away from the spectacle ahead - but it made no difference. All that mattered was that in those last moments, before the stillness ended and the blinding light took his vision and life and a world away, he felt, for a second, a little less alone.

In the end, he found peace. And in that peace, he found a fitting conclusion.

*****

THE END.

Merry Christmas! (though it's still Christmas' Eve here)