Another Earth

"The lock is set. Preparing for final departure," he breathed into his microphone. "This is the final transmission of the Extant. We've lost everything. Humanity can no longer exist in this universe; no, humanity will no longer exist in this universe," he continued. "All known life has ceased; both indigenous and extraterrestrial. The Supers have failed us. There is nobody left," he spoke, hands shaking. "Nobody except me..."

Hands still twitching slightly with anticipation, he directed the last craft ever engineered by human hands further into the solar system.

"The survival of humanity is based on a theory," he continued. "Other worlds like our own. Other times, like our own. Other universes, similar but different. If it's true...I'll be alive, and I'll take humanity's memories with me. If not, I'll be dead by the time anyone is able to read this message," he gasped, the Temporal Virus still taking hold in his system. Squinting through the white flares that had began to form in the corners of his vision, his gloved hands grasped at the throttle, guiding his small craft forward through space. He passed Mars, quantum engines moving him steadily at speeds that should have been impossible.

Engines designed to function like speedsters, he thought, remembering the men and women who could run at velocities bordering the speed of light.

A hull that mimicked the endurance of gods. His mind wandered to the people who could catch bullets in their hands, to lift mountains, to move continents.

A power source that shone like the brightest of the energy manipulators. There were beings who could summon forth the infinite powers of the cosmos, who could fly unaided, or fire beams of pure energy from their hands and eyes. They, too, had played a part in saving humanity, but not in the way they expected.

They had done their part. Keeping the world alive long enough for one man to leave. To escape. That was all that had mattered. If just one person could leave, he could prevent the same crisis from happening on another world. On all the other worlds. His Earth would perish...but no other would fall.

"Moving closer to the breach. Instruments are set. The Prime Earth has been located. Velocities approaching relativistic. I am leaving time. I repeat, I am leaving time."

They told him the journey would change him. He would be broken, they said. His mind would not survive. Only what they needed would make it through.

Save the worlds. Avert the crisis. Be the Minuteman.

"Minuteman," he spoke softly to himself. Identity would not survive the trip between universes. Not with their technology, at least. His name would be lost forever, and with good reason. Sentiment would always supersede the mission. He could have no name, no emotion to get in the way of the most important task ever undertaken by a living being from his universe. Without his given name, he would have only a title.

Minuteman.

The most honorary title of all, they said. The one who would let life go on. The one who would not go quietly into the night. The Breach was near. A gravitational portal that only his craft, the Extant, would be able to endure.

He took a deep breath. This may be my final thought. These could be my last words.

"Minuteman, either signing off...or signing in."

The craft flew into the Breach, for the first and last time.

Earth-CVnU