The plague that reigned across the nation in 2025 was no joke.
It was completely and entirely real. Yet people deny the fact to this day that it even happened.
People even say that it was just a way for the government to gain more control over the public, but today something had happened that no one would ever forget.
The sun had disappeared. The moon went down, but the sun didn’t rise. The entire planet is in darkness. Even the moon slowly began to die out with no sun to reflect off of.
Astronomers are saying that the sun might have just burned up and the flames could’ve died out.
Other scientists are saying that it had exploded in a dazzling supernova that barely missed Mother Earth. The public is in a panic. The radio beside me isn’t playing music.
The news flows around me as I listen intently, the news reporters bickering and shouting at each other.
“NASA still hasn’t put their opinion in on this rare and horrifying occurrence,” said one reporter. My surroundings are dark, the only light coming from my desk lamp.
Our beloved sun has gone missing, but I can be completely sure that the only living thing that isn’t flipping shit is me. And that’s because I’m not on Earth.
I bet you were thinking I was sitting in a cozy room, in my lovely house writing this down, but no. I’m in space. And the reason is rather simple; I live in space.
Surely by now, your mind has pieced it together? It’s not that hard to figure it out. I’m not human. Far from it really. The only human-like thing about me is my body, but my body isn’t me.
I’m merely a host in this vessel. The body is only a shell. I’m floating in the Earth’s orbit, listening to the news through my computer.
Now I know what you’re thinking when I say computer, but that little box-with-cords is nothing compared to my central control hub.
I learned the English language off of it, I read up on human culture on it. Hell, I even follow current events on it.
As I gaze out of my shuttles front window, I see the lights of the homes below me all turning on suddenly. Now you’re probably wondering why I’m even here. Well, the answer is easy.
I can still see the dim glow of where the sun once was. I muster a chuckle.
Yes, I had “killed” the sun.
No, I am not sorry.