A massive hulk drifted through the dead of space above a lifeless world, the fires of entire civilizations burning bright by night and squelched in the sun by day. Three continents of forests were ablaze around the planet’s former major powers, while a hundred thousand island nations were transformed into a hundred thousand piles of radiation with the explosion of a hundred thousand antimatter bombs.

In the orbiting ship, a creature stood at a large viewport, overlooking the devastation with a cruel smile. It had four legs, like those of an Equestrian pony, but the lower body of a serpent, upper body of a human, and hands built for seven digits each. The back of its upper body was covered in scaly, greenish skin that brushed itself like fingernails on a chalkboard whenever it moved, and it stank of molting and death. Its head--if it could be called that--took the shape of a bird’s, with a beaky mouth, sensitive ears, and hunter’s eyes, with feathery scales that smoothly transitioned down its back.

It raised its right hand to inspect it. Two digits were missing, one on each end, and its opposable thumb still had visible stitches to sew it back on, but the creature looked over each imperfection like it was normal. Satisfied that no new problems had arisen, it lowered its hand and continued to watch the worldwide flames. For a few minutes, other similar creatures crawled behind it to keep the ship’s essential systems running. Then one of decent age slithered to its side.

“Lord Xialk,” it began, “the planet has been cleansed of all inhabitants, and resource extraction has begun.”

Lord Xialk turned around. His eyes glistened with the heart of a dying star as he replied, “Most excellent. Now, let us turn our attention to the world of Gurank, where our satellite has relayed evidence of radio broadcasts. They first appeared there two hundred years ago, but it a small, concentrated area. In any event, those specific broadcasts were encrypted beyond the world’s technological advancement, were deemed irrelevant, and they promptly disappeared some time later.

“Now, the entire world is covered in radio broadcasts, and we can no longer ignore it. Gurank has had its first chance, and its second. This time, by the words of the ancient law, we must eliminate all possibilities of Gurank’s resurgence as a potential power and protect the knowledge our species is honor-bound to defend. Commence the Cleansing, General Rikahk. Leave no civilization spared, no rock unturned. Gurank will be stripped of its resources, devoid of life, doomed to drift around its dying star for all of eternity.”

General Rikahk bowed and left. Meanwhile, Xialk watched as thousands of kilometer-long craft angled away from the surface and fired their engines. Given the distances involved, the battle fleet would arrive in just under a year’s time, with the mothership following six months later. But that was irrelevant; any resistance the puny ponies of Gurank could muster even if they detected the Flotilla of Cleansing would be crushed in a matter of minutes. If they defeated the Flotilla, however small of a chance that was, they would then deal with the Guardian, a mothership with twice the capability of three Flotillas. If they defeated that, a hundred motherships would arrive from all corners of the universe within hours, making use of their emergency jump-beacon wormhole generator drives. No matter what a primitive species had ever conceived, that final force was more than enough to destroy them.

For those worlds that accomplished the legendarily rare feat of destroying a mothership, a special Cleansing was in order. Not only was it stripped of resources and potential for life, it was annihilated by gravity drives that tore it apart piece by piece and flung the remains into its star, which was then injected with a special plasma. This plasma would start the star on its dying stages right then, triggering a hypernova explosion so large that it sent ripples though all of spacetime, erasing the solar system and its inhabitants from all existence in all universes. Nobody would know they existed, nor would they ever. Only the Protectors of Knowledge had records of these systems and their locations, to be forever remembered as worthy enemies and honored with tradition. Species like that deserved to be immortalized in records and tradition, even if they were Erased.

At Lord Xialk’s slightest nod, the first ship of the Flotilla jumped in a flash of red-shifted Doppler light, immediately fading from the real world and entering hyperspatial reality.

Author's Note

This story is intended to be the last The Red Sun Rises. It's really saddening for me to realize how much I've put into this world, its story, and its characters. How much I've put Crimson through, made hopeless situations end positively, developed and honed my writing through experience. In the last two and a half years, so many characters have come and gone:

Crimson Dawn,
Platinum Starlight,
Bats Nightmane,
Queen Atlanta,
Twilight Sparkle,
Dazzleflash,
King Flawless Ice,
King Jagged Edge,
Lost Legacy,
Admiral James Robinson,
Commander Amber Hamilton,
Super Hornet Pilots Railgun and Artemis,
Captain Ross,
Harbormaster Nightmane,
Captain Middle Road,
Tye Die,
General Moonshine Silvercrest,
Princess Mirage,
Queen Duplicate,
Captain Pseudonym,
Princess Blossom,
Queen Echo,
Princess Cadence,
Princess Celestia,
Princess Luna,
Nurse Lieutenant Rose Thorn,
and all those whose names were lost to memory and time.

I only hope that this final chapter is worthy of their sacrifice to their story.