Nothing can stop it now. One by one, a cascade of bursting stars envelopes the smoky sky above what once was the intergalactic headquarters. As the few survivors frantically make way to escape pods and teleporters, the Hakans lower their arms and begin to kneel and begin praying in a tongue so old, it carries the echoes of the big bang. They won. “So, this is it,” the ambassador says, laid on their back amongst the smooth rubble. “It is. Hey, how did your wife find my gift? The one back on Earth-2,” another says. “Ah, she thought it was stellar. You rats sure know your cheeses.” The rat-faced alien snickers. “I told you to stop calling us that. It’s insensitive.” They point their claws to a supernova. “Special order from the cows on Lmiul-99.” The human snorts. “Who’s being insensitive now?” “I think she is,” it motions towards the collapsing sun in front of their eyes. “Kind of ruining the moment isn’t she.” “Mmm, yeah. It wasn’t a very good moment, now was it?” “Could be worse." “How’s that?” “Could be stuck in here with you, and your clone.” “Yeah? He’s right there though, look.” Underneath a giant Hakan’s knees is barely a recognizable human corpse. “Ah, well, I guess it just got worse.” “Bite me. If it weren’t for us, you wouldn’t be here to experience… this.” “I’ve told you a gazillion times, I would’ve gotten off Surn by myself. You-” They choke, exhale, and swallow. “Heh no. Really though. Thank you,” they say, closing their eyes. “Thank you.” Shortly after, the light consumes all, everywhere. It goes on and on to sectors further than ever explored, ever witnessed, ever lived. Until it doesn’t. At the very edge of the observable universe, one might be surprised to find more universe. A lone rider on a rustic nebula bike seems to make a whistling sound behind their hexagonal helmet. Their outfit and ride are of the likes none have ever laid their eyes upon. They pick up what appears to be a rock with their metallic claw and promptly speeds off into the rest of the universe.