The Last Selfie - Story
Chapter One: The Photograph
The cabin was dim, lit only by the glow of the burning Earth outside. Elias Voss raised the small handheld camera, his gloved fingers trembling. He pressed the button.
The image froze: his weary face framed against the backdrop of a dying planet. His eyes were hollow, his beard flecked with gray, his suit scuffed and worn. Behind him, Earth was ablaze — oceans boiling, cities swallowed by firestorms, clouds thick with ash.
He stared at the photo for a long time. It was not vanity that made him take it. It was remembrance. Proof that humanity had felt something in its final moments. Proof that they had mourned.
“This is all that’s left,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “A face. A memory. A goodbye.”
The photograph would be his legacy — the last selfie before Earth’s destruction.
Chapter Two: The Weight of Command
The Exodus Initiative had been humanity’s desperate gamble. Nations that once warred had pooled their final strength to build ships capable of interstellar travel. Billions would perish, but a few thousand would survive, carried into the void aboard vessels bound for Proxima Centauri.
Elias Voss had not been chosen for brilliance alone. He was chosen because he carried a rare balance of empathy and resolve. He could lead people through despair. He could make them believe survival was possible.
He remembered the council chamber, the faces of leaders etched with fear.
“You will be the last to depart,” one had said. “You will carry the memory of Earth.”
Elias had nodded, though his heart had clenched. He knew what it meant: he would watch the world die.
Chapter Three: Memories of Home
As the fires consumed the planet, Elias’s mind wandered to gentler times.
He remembered the smell of his mother’s bread baking in their Reykjavik kitchen. He remembered snowflakes clinging to his eyelashes during Icelandic winters. He remembered Freya’s laughter as she chased gulls along the shoreline, her hair wild in the wind.
He closed his eyes, and the memories became vivid. He was back on the shoreline, the gulls wheeling overhead, the sea spray cool against his skin. Freya tugged at his hand, her eyes bright.
“Papa, look!” she cried, pointing at the horizon. “The sun is dancing!”
He had laughed then, a deep, unguarded laugh. “That’s the aurora, Freya. The sky is painting for us.”
Now, the sky was burning. The aurora was gone.
He whispered her name into the silence. “Freya.” The word lingered, fragile, like a prayer.
Chapter Four: Departure
The engines roared to life, shaking the cabin. Elias strapped himself in, his eyes fixed on the burning horizon.
“Goodbye,” he whispered.
The ship lifted, breaking free of Earth’s gravity. Through the window, the planet grew smaller, its fires dimming into a single glowing sphere. Then, even that faded into the blackness of space.
The silence of the void pressed against him. He closed his eyes. He had left Earth behind forever.
Chapter Five: The Journal
Alone in the void, Elias began to write. His journal became his only companion.
Entry One: Earth is gone. I watched it burn. Humanity survives, but at what cost?
Entry Twelve: I dream of Freya every night. I wonder if she dreams of me. I wonder if she will remember my face when she grows old.
Entry Forty-Seven: The stars are beautiful tonight. They remind me that the universe is vast, indifferent, eternal. And yet, here I am, a single man carrying the memory of a world that no longer exists.
Sometimes he spoke aloud as he wrote, his voice echoing in the empty cabin. “If anyone finds this… know that we loved our world. Know that we tried.”
Chapter Six: Loneliness
Days blurred into weeks, weeks into months. The ship drifted through the void, its systems automated, its course set. Elias lived in cycles of sleep, journal writing, and staring at the stars.
Loneliness gnawed at him. He spoke aloud sometimes, pretending Freya was there.
“Do you remember the gulls, Freya?” he whispered. “Do you remember the aurora?”
He told her stories of Iceland, of auroras dancing across the sky, of the warmth of a fire on winter nights. He imagined her listening. He imagined her smiling. It kept him alive. Sometimes he argued with her, too — imagined her stubbornness. “Papa, you should have come with me,” she said in his mind. “I couldn’t,” he whispered back. “I had to stay. I had to make sure you were safe.” “You always choose duty,” her voice accused. “Yes,” he said softly. “Because duty was the only way to keep you alive.”
Chapter Seven: The Message
One day, Elias recorded a message. He knew it might never be heard, but he sent it anyway, broadcasting into the void. “My name is Commander Elias Voss. I was the last to leave Earth. This is my farewell. If you are hearing this, know that humanity loved its home. Know that we fought to survive. Know that we carried hope into the stars. Do not forget us.” The message traveled outward, a fragile signal in the infinite dark. He sat back, his chest heavy. “At least… someone will know.”
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Chapter Eight: Flashback — The Launch
He remembered the day Freya left. The launchpad had been chaos — families crying, engineers shouting, the roar of engines filling the air. Freya had clung to him, her small hands gripping his suit. “Papa, come with me,” she begged. “I can’t,” he said, kneeling to meet her eyes. “I have to stay. I have to make sure you get away safely.” Her eyes filled with tears. “But who will take care of you?” He smiled, though his heart broke. “The stars will. And one day, you’ll look at them and know I’m there.” She had nodded, though she didn’t understand. He had kissed her forehead, whispered promises he could not keep, and watched her ship vanish into the black. That memory haunted him more than the burning Earth.
Chapter Nine: The Dream
In his final months, Elias dreamed often. He dreamed of Earth restored — oceans blue, forests green, skies clear. He dreamed of walking with Freya along the shoreline, her hand in his. In one dream, she looked up at him, her eyes wide. “Papa, is the sky painting again?” “Yes,” he whispered. “Always.” He knew it was only a dream. But it was enough.
Chapter Ten: The Legacy
Generations later, when humanity reached a new world, they found his archives. They saw his face, his journal, his message. They remembered Earth not as a place of destruction, but as a home that had been loved. And in that memory, humanity found strength to begin again. The selfie of Elias Voss became legend. The last photograph of Earth, the last farewell of a man who carried the memory of a world into the stars.
