Two people sat on a deck, on a cold and dark winter’s night. In the distance sat mountains.

"The perseids will be out tonight, you might even see one streak the atmosphere."
"I know, but NASA gave an alarming report last we-"
"Don't worry."

The year was 2019. A cold January night, this night was the end of the world.
Though few could see it, and fewer were aware of the significance of it, there was a faint light in the sky, getting
brighter every minute. Officially it was "2002 NT7". To those who knew of it however, it was dubbed "Midas".

The sky was overcast, but there was a faint unearthly glow to it starting to become ever more obvious.

"What is that?"
"Nothing, I hope"

Suddenly, without a sound, a hole ripped itself in the clouds and through it came a blinding globe that shot over
and past the observers.

"Get inside!"
Silently, hurriedly, they both got inside the relative safety of their home.
One of them tried to turn on the TV, but noticed that all the electronics weren't operating.
"Maybe it's a problem with the fuse box, I'll take a look"
"Be careful."
"After what I just saw, nothing on this earth can scare me."

Down in the basement it was dark; the sound of raindrops could be heard faintly.
He noticed that one device was still functional, an ancient laptop that was part
of his vintage computer collection. Checking the fuse box it all seemed fine, and a newer laptop that had
been used hours prior ceased to work. He came to the conclusion that it must've been an EMP triggered by
the close range of the meteor. The more robust design of the older laptop must've saved it somehow. It would not
be of much use without AC power however, he estimated 3 hours of battery life. He removed the battery to conserve
it's power.

Going back upstairs the sound of rain had turned into a cacophony of hail, and then stopped abruptly.
"Look at it"
"Look at what"
"Look at the hail, its gold."

He looked at the hail, it was indeed solid gold. The asteroid must've had a gold core, and the rock surrounding it
had burned up in reentry. On this note he realized that the older telephone system might still be functional, and
he could use the laptop to access the internet via dialup, not a pretty or fast way to find out what was happening, but
it was all he had.

He got the laptop from the basement and dusted it off, put in the battery, and turned it on. Plugging it into the
wall he found that he was indeed able to access the internet. He went straight to the global news service.

Slowly, the screen loaded the headline.
A
S
T
ERO
ID
"Asteroid"

C
OLL
IDE
S
"Collides, oh god"

I
N
DI
AN
"Indian?"
S
U
B
CONT
INENT
"Subcontinent? Oh Christ those poor people"
"Wait, there's more"
A
NN
IH
IL
ATED
"Annihilated, I guess that's it then. For us I mean"
"What do you mean?"
"For humanity, that's it."
"No, we can't possibly end like this! Surely we can survive somehow!"
All he could do was be silent.

Upon some more time on the site, and further reading, he was able to glean the fact that the asteroid had done
a low planetary flyover, starting over North America, before swinging back around and smashing straight into
India, near Calcutta. The entire area was destroyed. During its low flyover the asteroid EMP had knocked out
all electronics newer then 20 or so years in the areas of north America, south America, western Africa, and most of
Europe. When the asteroid came down on the other side of the planet, all areas that would have been effected by the
EMP were otherwise destroyed.
He also came across speculation that this would kick up a dust cloud that would hover over the earth for 400 years,
effectively bringing humanity, and most other species, to an end. Furthermore he found confirmation that the asteroid
was made mostly of gold, and that its name had been Midas. He put the laptop away for now, assuming it had two hours
of battery life left.

"Isn't it odd how quiet it is?
"What do you mean by that?"
"I would expect sirens, or people frantically trying to leave, or something. It's been dead silence since that
thing passed over."
"Sirens for what? Where would people go? There's nothing we can do now I just hope somebody has enough storable
rations that they can get through this, somehow."
"But... not us?"
"I don't see how."
"That seems needlessly fatalistic; surely we can at least try!"
"We can try, but you know me as a realist. Realistically, we're doomed. It'll be a slow death, but a death in the
end nonetheless. It's as much over for humans as it was for the dinosaurs."

They fell silent, deep in thought. This was not the way humanity was meant to end, humanity was meant to shoot
for the stars and take the galaxy for its own. Humanity was destined for greatness. To have all that humanity
had achieved swept away by an uncaring universe by an improbable nemesis was not how it was meant to end.

Overnight, there was silence, some tears, and a restless sleep.

The next day they took inventory of what they had.
"Two weeks, we have enough rations for two weeks. We'll have to find a more long term strategy."
"That's fine, for now. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

He plugged the laptop into the wall, and noticed that the battery meter had lost a percentage overnight. Even with
strict power rationing he would only get one day for each percentage out of it, it was currently at 70.
Looking on the internet, the United States had made a declaration of emergency and moved the president underground
somewhere, hopefully self-sufficient. He didn't like the president, but it was about humanity now, not petty politics.
Europe had gone to war, over farmlands in the Ukraine he assumed. the UN had made a statement calling for calm and
unity. The representives from the nations destroyed by the meteor were the only ones to sign the statement. No other
members came that day. He closed the laptop, the power meter read 50.

Two weeks later they had run out of rations, and decided to make an attempt to move to the local supermarket, located
50 KM away.
"We should have started earlier, brought some rations with us just in case"
"If there is nothing there, then we have no alternative. We're living day by day now."

The days had grown dim; the air was dusty and cold. the ground covered in small pieces of gold.
On their long walk they made idle talk of the politics of yesterday, and the movies they will
never see. A somber feeling hung over it all however and eventually they walked in silence.

After about an hour of walking they came across a man with a wheelbarrow full of gold.
The man looking like he hadn't eaten in days, had a long dirty beard and eyes that seemed sunken into his face.
his knees were dirty from crawling on the ground, and his hands bloody digging.
"Don't touch that! It's mine! all mine! Mine!"
"What is?"
"The gold! I'm rich! it's all mine!"
"It's worthless now! there's nobod-"
"I'M RICH!"
"It's pointless to argue, he's gone insane"

They sidestepped the man and continued on.
They could hear him yelling about gold for a while longer, but he suddenly was silenced.
"Probably starved"

A while later they finally came across their goal, the supermarket.
The parking lot was empty, except for an abandoned car that had rammed into a poll.
The front of the store was a giant grey wall that always seemed foreboding before, but now even
more. There was a truck jammed into the front doors.

"Odd I, I would have thought more people would have come."
"They will, Remember how far from any cities we are."
"God, the cities must be chaos now"
"I don't doubt it, the survival instinct of a million people all in the same area."

They had to squeeze past the truck, but found that the inside was relatively unscathed. It was dark, but there
were sunlight’s in the roof that allowed the dim sun to peak through. They started to comb the isles when a voice
started them.
"Hello."
It was over the loudspeakers; they must use their own power, or have a backup.
"Please come up to the employee lounge, it's been a while since anyone came by."

They walked back to the front of the store and opened a door marked "Authorized Personal only"
Up some stairs they walked, past notes on employee safety and a profit chart listing this store as the worst in the
country.
"How do you know your way around so well?"
"I used to work here; lounge is at the end of the hallway on the right."

They entered, and found an old man hobbled over a desk covered in papers.

"Hello, My name is Reginald, and you would be?"
"I am Peter, this is Alex."
"Pleased to meet you."
"Ah yes, it's been so long since I saw people. That's my truck in the doors you know, I was startled by the light."
"My.. children had been in India on vacation... when I found out what happened on the radio.."
The man shed a tear, but continued on.
"I wrote their stories, here. We might not go on, but at least whoever comes next will know of us."
The man gestured to the papers in front of him, arranged in 4 neat piles.
"And.. what is that with you.. it looks like a computer, but I thought they all broke."
"It's older, and as far as I can tell it still works, for now."
"I see, come, and let us write your stories so that you may be remembered. There is enough food in this place to last us
quite a while, and it's out of the way enough that we shant be disturbed."
For the next few days they sat, and they talked. They shared their entire lives stories and Reginald wrote. Reginald
told them that his writing helped him escape the fact that this was the end, to which Alex almost objected, but even
she had come to realize this as the truth. "At least, our memory will survive." she had said.

After a few days of this Reginald declared their stories complete, and entered them into a filing cabinet in the
manager’s room. Peter had been checking the internet in routine intervals, and had found a discussion forum filled
with the very last of humanities survivors. It was mostly discussion of survival tips, areas of refuge, and areas
to avoid. It was reported that all cars, no matter how old, seemed not work. Thus the group could never
make it to one of the cities had they wanted to. They were trapped in the mountains.  Peter began to notice that
the message board was slowly becoming full of one type of message, messages of people "Signing off". First Detriot, then
New York, then San Francisco. Peter realized that they had run out of supplies and were dieing. This worried Peter,
he had thought they would have had plenty of supplies.

The next few days Peter and Reginald played Chess, while Alex spent most of here time staring off into space.
“It’s not fair” She would commonly be heard saying.
“Life’s never fair” Reginald would just as commonly reply. Peter was concerned at her failing spirit, but was rebuked in his attempts to cheer her up. He figured she must be going through the same grief they all were, but taking it differently. Reginald had his writing, Peter had his laptop, and Alex had the sky. The dust had overtaken the entire sky and this point, and they could barely see for a hundred meters out of any window. Soon the windows were covered in dust. Peter made it his mission to keep them clean with car wiper fluid and a rag, ever day going up on the roof to clear the sun roof. The dust in the air had given them all a bad cough now.

On one of his checks online he found that the war in Europe had ended, not because of an ordered cease fire, but because the soldiers had refused to continue. They all stopped fighting and left the field to find their families, to die in peace. It was now a common sight to see a post from a soldier who had lost a friend in “The Useless War” lament that his death had meant nothing, that the war was a useless ruse to keep the politicians in power for a few more days.

The group had found that the stores of food in the store seemed to being going bad far faster then they had anticipated,
and Reginald estimated it would last for only a week at the current rate of use and spoilage. That night Alex cried.
"Don't cry, we're here for you."
"But... we're all going to die! It's over! I don't want to die! I want to grow old, have a family, swim in a lake,
get married! It's so unfair! I don't want it to end I don't! I want to live!"
"We.. we can do one of those things my friend"
"What, what do you mean Reginald?"
"I’m a minister."

That night Peter and Alex were married, in the isle between Condiments and Pasta, where the sun came in through
the sunlight and it appeared to cast down on them. Reginald used a dusty old bible, and the couple used
a gown and a suit taken from the stores clothing section. They weren't particularly pretty, but they would do.
Reginald read out the marriage rites.
"Do you, Peter Abramoff, take Alex Petra as your wife, to have and to hold, in health and in illness, until the day
you die?"
"I do."
"Do you, Alex Petra, take Peter Abramoff as your husband, to have and to hold, in health and in illness, until the day
you die?"
"I do"
"You may now kiss the bride"
They embraced and kissed, a tear falling down Alex' cheek.
"I love you."
They appended a page to their life stories, and left a few blank ones for the future.

The next week Peter had discovered that the food was spoiling at a rate far faster than they had anticipated, Reginald
determined that they had 5 days of rations at the current rate of spoilage. The group decided that they would have
a feast with the remainder, and they all got drunk and happy that night. During the nights festivities Reginald
remarked that using some of the drugs in the pharmacy would be "Quicker". Alex and Peter both knew this was no joke.

The next day Peter turned on the laptop, and noticed only 5% power remaining. Logging on he noticed that apparently
the EMP had caused some sort of chemical reaction with the storage food. It was limited only to the EMP areas however,
East Africa and the extreme northern limit of Asia, as well as the parts of Australia not flooded, were not affected.
"They will survive"
"Somebody does, always. This time though, it's not us."
"But somebody will."
"Yes."
Peter left his last message- "Long Valley, British Columbia, Canada. Signing Off"
"So, is it time then?"
Reginald looked at Peter, and Peter nodded.
"It's time."

Reginald went down and made the cocktail, he called it the "Cocktail of sleep" and said that it had been taught to
him by a fellow when he was in India years ago "Just in case a quick death is preferable to a long one."
"It will take ten minutes to work, and it will be painless. 8 minutes you will remain lucid, and the last two will
seem as if a blissful falling into sleep."
They all drank down their share, without hesitation.
"You know, it's interesting." Peter remarked "Whoever follows us will value silver far more then gold, and will probably use gold in everything because of its malleability."
They spent the next 8 minutes in idle chatter, before their hands began to tremble.
"It feels like... I'm floating."
"I think I'm already dead, I can see my own body from here!"
Their words quickly broke down into meaningless babble, and they passed on.

Hundreds of years later a few survivors managed to get through the age of dust, and found themselves to be kings of
a dead earth. Australia got the best of it; the tsunami had flooded a huge part of the north, leaving behind new
lakes that supported new ecosystems. The Earth began a new age, the age of life. All over the planet new species
evolved, even a sentient species of bird in the north of Europe. Within a decade the earth was as green and vibrant
as it ever was. The Australians had managed to hold on to most of their technological advances in theory, but had
neither the time nor the resources to act on it. Once the Earth was green once again however, they very quickly
advanced and, within 100 years, had a space program. The massive availability of gold for use in circuit boards and
spacecraft was a great help. Australia started to explore the stars, and the birds were left to start their own
civilization in the north.