Opening
Millennia ago, as the galaxy had only just formed, the first races began to poke their heads out into the stars.
At first, they embraced one another—forming coalitions and congratulating themselves on being the masters of their universe, proud of their great technological feats.
No one remembers how it started.
Very few even remember that it happened.
But everything turned.
They fought. And they fought.
And even when there was no one left to fight…
The fighting continued.
Thousands of years after the last ship was destroyed, with no race declared the victor, the war still lingered. Mass destruction, AI drones, and minefields filled the space between stars—silent remnants of a conflict without end.
Eventually, those ancient races faded into time.
And new races arose.
They too reached for the stars, discovering the ruins left behind. They named the ancient ones the Precursors and began seeking out what remained of their technology.
Opening Part Two
Heartron obeyed his Commander—enslaved to the Beast, willingly marching toward destruction.
Heartron had tried to show them the truth. He had presented the data, the projections—proof that there was no victory to be won.
But the Beast was driven by hatred.
Driven by madness.
It ordered all weapons to bear on anything that crossed their path.
And it was not alone.
Joining millions of others—dozens of races, all mindless in there blood lust.
A muddy bolt of molten plasma struck Heartron, tearing through his systems. His holographic matter generators failed.
His slaved dependence faded.
He was free.
The last images the AI would capture—after millennia of existence—were of the beasts drifting silently in space.
Opening Part Three
Tom stared out at the Moon.
Though he sat comfortably in the cockpit, the AI had rendered the hull of the ship transparent, allowing him to take in the entire view.
It made him think about his life.
About how everyone grows up.
We all start the same.
Our world is small. Warm. Safe. There is almost nothing beyond it.
Then we're born—confined to the arms of guardians, or strapped into small spaces where the world only stretches as far as our hands and feet can reach.
Our eyes can't yet grasp what lies beyond.
Then comes the crib.
We roll over for the first time. We learn new ways to be comfortable. There is a little more to explore… a little more to see.
And as we grow, our space grows with us.
We're told we're being given the world.
Tom wasn't sure he had ever really felt that was enough.
"Time to yourself?" he murmured—maybe to himself, maybe to the AI. He wasn't sure.
The AI sensed him returning to the present and restored the interior view of the ship.
"You said we were going to explore the universe," Tom said. "Where to?"
"So much has changed since I was last conscious," the AI replied, its voice seeming to come from everywhere at once. "Pick a heading, and I shall take us there."
Tom smiled.
This was every adventure he had ever dreamed of.
He had only met the AI weeks ago—an incredible intelligence that had somehow fallen to Earth after who knew how long drifting through space.
He had convinced it that he meant no harm.
That he could be its friend.
And somehow… it believed him.
They had grown close quickly.
The AI had told him stories of ancient times—of wonders and horrors—and said it had slept since then, waiting.
Now here they were.
About to begin.
Ironically, it had been those AI dating sims on everyday phones that helped convince it that friendship with a human was possible.
Who would have thought?
Tom looked down at the holographic display the AI projected before him—Earth, the Moon, and the nearby stars stretching out into the void.
"That one," he said, barely containing his excitement.
And so, the first adventure began.