Image the future. Image the year mankind makes first contact, and image that it leads to conflict. Its a common thought, and we often image the aliens as the bad guys. Or so does the popular media branch of the genre. Hollywood, the gaming industry and all around sci-fi books often portray the fight between man and monster, this alien invader that seek to destroy us with far superior technology and some kind of specie specific advantage. Often they carry gauss guns, laser rifle or plasma weaponry, and in more than one case the idea of a mental link is portrayed. It is a comfortable thought. The receiving end of this entertainment product can recognize themselves as the weaker human, fighting an innocent fight against an evil overlord.
Yet I wanted to differ from this. I wanted to create something different, and while the subject has been touched before I wanted to creature my own touch on it. This is where this image comes in, where this portrait of mankind as a survivalist and as a grim, relentless hunter. So came the idea of Third Columbia, a universe where man was the superior. Where we, despite any possible disadvantages, claim all and everything. Where we enforce the same ideals that many enforce here today, and where everyone lives under a projected democracy. Where we are free to choose, as long as we choose correctly.
So that's how it all started, in my mind. Now, let the story itself tell us how it all started. How we became the grim reaper of a reality never before claimed.
Transmission AE - 1223EE
Sender: UnknownLocation: Unknown
Timestamp: 2892-12-25 - Alpha Universe
In eight days we enter the year of 2893, counting by the old ways. I worry that we will do something drastic this day. I fear for the lives of so many, thus the echo of my kin's sins is still fresh in my mind. Last week I was reminded once again why we are the undisputed ruler of this reality, and I fear that soon other universes will fall under the same curse as ours. Because of this, and of this I beg you, please do not fall into the footsteps of a specie by now known only as tormentors. I care not if you are descent to mankind or any other race, you must not follow.
I will tell you our ways, how we shaped the road to this dictatorship. And I will tell you the entirity of it, be it that my survival is ensured for so long. Yet you must not ask, for this frequency is not for a single soul, and you must listen to it fully. These are my only requests, and would you fulfill them your eyes will hear the tales of a people once grand. Of a people I once called family. A people who sinned, and for that gave away all rights to redemption. So I ask of you, listen carefully, listen thoroughly, listen to the words unspoken and never forget them.
Earthen scientists had early realised that we were trapped behind physical laws. Our planet hosted a natural habitat for us, and were we to leave it we needed to bring this climate with us. Everything from gravity to composition of breathable air had to be perfect, were we to remain superior to our surrondings. So this was funded. Where as many a man lived in poverty across desert like areas nations decided to fund the future instead of securing today. They called it Terramorphing, and the first experiments were hugely succesfull. The moon circulating earth became habitable, so did its closest neighbour, a planet named Mars. For the time everything was a huge success.
Then came the darker days, where our technology no longer aided mankind but harmed its opponent. The nightmares still plagues me, thus for every sin I have done a child never got to see the light of day, every action I took brought us one step closer to self obliteration. I regret all I did, and curse all which made it possible.
End Transmission
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