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In the ruins of the crumbling empire, the last human, the sole survivor, cursed to wander the empty landscape eternally, wandered through the rubble of what had once been her beloved home. Her quiet steps where the only sound to peirce the vacuum of silence.
After writing an epitaph for everyone she could identify and knew anything about, she buried them at the top of a hill with the best view of the sunset she could find. This spot under the giant oak tree had always been her favorite.
The people who had once described her as a volatile prodigal had then cowered when the town had been attacked, only to be unable to flee and be brutally slain by the horrors sent upon them by the angered gods of celestia.
The "heroine" had angered them with her talk of trying to find a more ethical solution, so they cursed her with immortality and forced her to watch as all of humanity fell to the heavenly principles' wrath.
All of this this destruction because of one mistake, one poorly spoken sentence that doomed all other humans to a burning, bloody death. A thousand years had already passed and, as she walked through the overgrown, silent ruins of what was once a great empire, she could not shake the feeling that if she had just kept her mouth shut, none of this would've happened.
She sunk to her knees in the middle of what once was her home. A voice, hoarse from dis-use, echoed off the walls.
"... Hello?" She called into the darkness, though she'd known it would be futile. "Is someone there?"
Silence.
"... Anybody?"
Nothing.
She lowered her head. Soft, unheard sobs echoed throughout the ruins. Lumine uselessly hoped, prayed to whatever god would listen, that someone would miraculously hear and come to comfort her.
No one came. No one ever would.
She was alone.