//------------------------------// // TimeframeError: Log-End 2 // Story: Remnants, Forgotten. // by AnkhOmega //------------------------------// ..//.. Personal Log: High Overseer Vaark'un. … … … Attention. Unauthorised access to this article shall be treated as high treason. … … … Log-End-2: It's gotten quiet recently. I actually risked setting foot on the surface. I wish I hadn't. It's a terrible reminder of my failings. I mentioned before about my curiosity. It's my terrible burden to bear, an idiotic desire to know things I have no business knowing. This lead to the order which destroyed Elseria. I got it into my head that it would be a good idea to explore the core of our galaxy, to see what was at the centre of everything. I do not know where the idea came from, nor what sparked it to become my own personal obsession. But it was there, nagging away until I ordered it done. It was a stupid idea. The worst I've ever had in retrospect. We didn't know what had hit us at first. The Fabricator General designed a ship to probe into the core, past the gravity wells and the black holes. It was a beautiful design, sophisticated and elegant. The entire empire watched as it approached the core with bated breath. We lost contact with the ship. Something hit it, the last thing we received was a garbled scream of agony. The next day colonies started going dark. One by one they dropped off the network, completely and totally. I ordered investigations, each world was burned. Destroyed. By the time a week had passed the empire was in panic. Worlds were going dark over and over, billions lay slain by a foe we had never seen. We were weak for the first time in our collective memory. Imagine that if you can. Your entire race feeling fear for the first time in generations. All the worlds we had subjugated suddenly had the realization that there was something out there stronger than the ones who had beaten them. Something so powerful that to glimpse it meant your world was doomed. After a month of constant losses we finally saw our foe. A frigate posted to the colony of Rizanai fled battle, gladly accepting the fate of a deserter to bring us information. Even now I do not know exactly what that creature was. We were being destroyed by a equine the size of a capital ship. But as if that were not strange enough, it had a horn on its head and wings of fire at its side. It's mane and tail seemed to hold a galaxy inside themselves. That's where we got the name for it. Galaxia. The pale horse of death. The scans we got of it allowed us to track it, it gave of a very specific range of thaumic energy. We laid traps for it, fleets and spells. Minefields and even a star rigged to go nova. Nothing worked, it just shrugged off our attacks like they were nothing. We were getting desperate. Things like Salt Units were proposed. Planet breaking weapons were brought online. Millions were sacrificed to fuel our spells. None of it worked. The Salt Units were built without my consent. The Planet breakers were destroyed. The spells had no effect. Our hopes were getting slim. We had been brought down to one quadrant. And we were running out of ways to fight back. That was when our most desperate move was proposed. That was when I made the second worst decision I have ever made. I ordered the sacrifice of 46 billion citizens. End-of-log. … … … ..\\..