Tomorrow

Oblivious of my Obvious Oblivion (A Fear of the Loss of Humanity)

I watched in horror as my only friend was engulfed in a stampede of raging red flames.

They called my name. My name, which had never been called by a single other before. My name, me, the reasoning behind their demise.

I closed my eyes but could still hear the chaos emerging from that building- was still alive in the moment. They say it was abandoned. I say they all died.

I relive it every waking second.

~

The concoction of switches and degrees that were at my touch flickered off and back on again, shifting from a period of incredulous blackness to confusing strands of light. My eyes widened and I was left bewildered, doubting if it was a malfunction of the dashboard or one of myself.

"Captain?" Colin, my close friend and protégé, beckoned as he entered the control room.

"CJ!" I greeted. "What's up?"

The boy nervously massaged his shoulder and beamed at the ivory floor beneath him, apparently pondering upon physically speaking the words ahead of him. "It's... the engine room, Captain. I'm really sorry. I'm just, not totally sure what happened..."

"Never fear, my friend! I'm sure I'll have things back and running in a jiffy." I pressed the autopilot button and followed Colin into the engine room, having a faltering sense of hope. I was really just overjoyed that it was a malfunction of the craft's technology and not of my own.

"It's, erm, the reactor..." he shyly admitted.

"Oh, well things may not be running in a exactly jiffy's time, will they?" I stood, completely dumbfounded, as I surveyed the giant energy mass in front of me that formed the heart of the ship. The engine was not producing its usual hum; it wasn't functioning. It was... dead. Overridden.

"This all explains my situation," I thought aloud, totally forgetting of Colin's presence. My feet clanked against the metal floor as I paced back and forth, thinking harder than I've ever thunk before, scrounging through centuries of knowledge from experience for a solution. Nothing. "It also explains the severity of it."

"What does it mean, Captain?" Colin asked, also surveying the lifeless mass that towered over the pair of us.

I stopped, dead in my tracks. "It means the ship's been overridden. It means all control of The ship is lost." I sat down on the- what I presumed to be- cold floor, genuinely hopeless for once in my life. "It means it's dying."

"But, um, Captain..." Colin began. "...isn't it just a ship?"  No, the effect of a dying ship is unfathomable. "It can't be dead-"

"It means I'm dying."

I suppose social skills are not a given when it comes to being me. Constantly running from any other civilization, always a nervous wreck about losing all sense... Maybe my dread of a loss of humanity'd finally caught up with me.

The silence of the engine room was immense and highly unbearable. I stood, resuming my false and too-cheery sense of hope. "We won't get anything done standing around, will we?" The teen standing in front of me blinked, not a single word escaping from his mildly petrified lips. If I could've frowned, I would've, but alas, I was frozen.

"Listen, you mustn't tell anybody about what I've just said. Yes, tell them about the reactor, but do not mention my... involvement. I shouldn't've told you. It's just going to hold you back."

"Capt-"

"I make it my dying wish," I began, "to do whatever we can to disable the core and find a backup strategy. Still no response. "Come on, now! No time to stand around like dead stars!"