 The hateful star had lost track of when they'd stopped observing it. Frankly, it didn't really care. Let them try to ignore it. Keep it contained in a web of silence. It wouldn't help them when the end came. And come it did. As the star lazily and messily tore Pluto apart, it noticed to its consternation that the earth was no longer inhabited. It hadn't bothered checking until now, but there it was. Enthusiasm considerably dampened, the star hoved sunwards, briskly dispatching planets as it went. It came to a halt quite close to the planet, reaching out with lines of force to keep the little world from being torn apart by its gravity well. Satisfied that it would not be disturbed, the star began to examine the little ball of dirt. It gave the stellar equivalent of a disappointed sigh. The little mud hole wasn't doing too well. It wasn't just the broken, drifting orbital gantries that surrounded the place like a messy halo. They'd drain the oceans, too, and the cities were radioactive craters, some of them still smoldering with the energies of sundered atoms. What the hell did you do, mankind? I mean, I knew you liked to foul your own nest, but this is just disgusting! It pulsed to itself, looking a little closer. Ah, now that was odd. They'd released all the SCPs, lost control of them more like. Those overconfident simpletons at the Foundation had finally got what was coming to them. The red pool was the size of Madagascar, and yes, that was 682 roaming the scorched sandpit that was Australia. The lizard looked up as the star's mind passed over it. The star contemptuously reduced it to vapor, then kept searching, its awareness passing over the few remaining cities and digging deep into the earth, searching for sites long forgotten. It saw 173, the statue, only the faintest blurs it roamed the crazed hallways of a broken containment facility. The star paused briefly in what had once been the massively reinforced containment chamber holding 076's sarcophagus. The black stone was cracked and shattered, and near the base someone had written a short message in white spray paint. We're cool now, pretentious and childish. Now I'm just disappointed. The facility vanished in an eruption of energy, and the star moved on. It paused one final time over the once Pacific Ocean, seeing something unusual in the burnt seabed. A stone tablet, easily a kilometer square, with writing carved into its surface in a dozen languages. First, a series of stellar coordinates in the primitive system the humans were so fond of using. Then, a short message. Observe, then destroy this marker. The star moved away from the earth, exasperately throwing its mind into the void. What exactly was it supposed to be observing? Will I find you? And then it found them. The faintest wash of energy emissions, redshifted so far they were practically invisible. A vast fleet of equally vast ships, moving away at speeds that- NO FUCKING WAY! NO! The hateful star tore at the marker, revealing a second message. Concrete letters buried in the sand beneath. Einstein was wrong. Catch us if you can. An end. Or maybe this is how it ended. What exactly was it supposed to be observing? First, it saw only a splotch of redshifted light, moving away slowly. A fleet, one capable of carrying an entire species. Well, you may have a head start, but you're still too slow. The star crushed the earth like an insect, collapsed the core of the sun, and then leisurely began to accelerate towards the distant ships. It mustered its energies, settling in for the slow path to 0.85C. Much, much faster than what humanity was managing. Then it noticed something strange, a pale blue dot in the center of the red cloud. Blue shifted light, moving towards it. For the first time in aeons, it felt itself being observed. A burst of malevolent hatred washed over it, radiating from- From the thing heading directly towards it, the star faltered in its acceleration. It hadn't experienced anything like this before. How fast was that little dot moving? The blue light flickered, speaking a language the star knew all too well. Morse. Russian. Pick on someone your own size. The star began to accelerate in the opposite direction when the realization hit it. The little blue dot was at 0.86C, and it was speeding up. Site 42 is able to continue broadcasting and move up to live action SCP film adaptations due to the support of viewers, subscribers, and especially our patrons. Special shout out to our Site Director level patron, Andrei Beichert.