Philosophically speaking we could argue for many years on the implications of such an occurrence, the ramifications on nature and the impact on the psyche on those who remained the same, but to be perfectly honest, it would not make a damn bit of difference. The point is, it happened.
Some might wonder what led up to such a fall, where was the definitive evidence that the world would collapse in on itself, and how might it have been averted.
An educated mind might contend that the rampant warfare humanity waged upon itself resulted in use of weapons far more terrifying than the wrath of God Himself, and that humanity resorted to the use of such weapons in an attempt to obliterate an enemy.
This was not the case.
Such a mind might then contend that humanity exhausted every natural resource the planet had to offer and essentially starved itself into extinction.
This also was not the case.
In truth, all it took was an archeological discovery, and a rather small one at that. For with that single discovery, mankind knew, beyond doubt, beyond skepticism, that the Universe was, indeed, NOT their playground.
And quite frankly, they couldn’t handle that knowledge.
My name is irrelevant, and I am the last vestige of a dead race, the remnant of an existence that will be forgotten, and not missed. I record here, in a language that, upon my death, will be indecipherable to any living beings in the universe, the final words to be written by human hands.
It isn’t enough to write these words, and I know I do little justice to those who have gone before me by writing them. How can one man paraphrase humanity?
We were a passionate race, prideful, lustful, selfish and cruel... We were lovers, fighters, killers, saints, demons and angels. We were fools.
And even as a write, I can feel my strength slipping away. Death creeps ever closer...
I ask myself, what purpose will this serve? I write this so that some creature, sometime may gaze upon my skeletal remains with the pen still clutched in my hand and wonder what possessed me to write the final epitaph of a species in a language no one will ever understand? The sheer futility sickens me, and yet I continue to write?
How to paraphrase humanity? We loved to fight, and yet fought to love. We thrived on irony and found poetic justice novel, and often times droll. We made murderers and thieves into kings and heroes and what little good there was, was swiftly forgotten.
We glorified in violence, thought of ways to explain the inexplicable. Gods, goddesses, we modeled them after ourselves all the while convincing ourselves that they modeled us from them...
So tired...
And so I must close, for I feel the hand of Death resting on my shoulder. We were all unique and that was the one thing that made us the same. So, alien reader, should you manage to translate my words, know this: Though I write here the essence of what we were, know that you will never fully understand the depth of our race. Only know that we were a species of lovers and killers, and fools all.
Farewell...