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Description
In the beginning, there were the Makers. None knew where they came from; only that their mission was to bring order from the nameless, shapeless void between the stars.
They arrived, and saw Death. No life existed, no energy flew.
And so began the Raising.

To breathe air into the skies, they Raised the giganti, a mighty race whose size and brutal appearance masked their intelligence.
To dredge out the fanthomless depths beneath the seas, they Raised the oceani; adaptive beasts who would evolve and bring forth all ocean-dwelling life.
To carve mighty caverns and crevasses they Raised the lazarisi, whose numbers were legion and inquisitive nature drove them to ever hack and cleave away at the rock.
To watch over it all they Raised the Dark Ones; mysterious and shadowlike beings that would observe, and report all they saw to the Makers.
And to inherit it all, they left humanity. And that's when it all went wrong.

Even from its awakening, its first steps into the bright unknown, humanity was a failure. It struggled and whined like a helpless child against the smallest of threats.
When half of the time allowed for the Plan had passed, they were a primitive, and barbaric race. Dark One and Maker alike watched in horror as they blindly slaughtered their own kin with metal and fire.
Through the latest parts of the time the Makers had allowed them, humanity was an shuddering and dying race, unable to solve the problems within its own arm's reach. With disgust, the Makers readied the Solution, and released it unto the world they wrought, the great waste of hope and life which they had brought up.

It was a long while before the Solution would reach the world, but many a Maker and Dark One had thought it was long enough. They would see that failure suffer only a little while longer, before all was reverted and they could start again.
Then, it was as if the winds of change had stopped, and reversed direction absolutely.

Humanity grew from a whimpering, mewling failure to all the Makers had hoped, and more.
Their work truly reflected their nature. Order and organisation became within humanity's very being. Their wars were of organised defeats, utilizing tactics and communication. They expanded, and reached space. And it was there, with the invention of physical space travel, that the Makers knew they had done well.
But they wept, for the Solution was approaching, and could not be stopped.

Humanity grew, and expanded, and from the dead husks of the worlds it had conquered it wrought great Art and Industry. The Makers rejoiced. Perhaps they too could share this Art and this Industry that their own creation had made.
But they had forgotten. They forgot about their own Solution, which then fulfilled its purpose.

The Solution was in its essence the perfect to to erase any problem. But the Makers wept, for they had made it too perfect, too flawless in its functionality.
The death of the world was by neutron fire; that had been the perfect tool to cleanse the supposed failure of all life and energy. And the Makers wept, for the blue-green jewel that they named Earth, the center of their Art and their Industry was gone.

It was then, that the Makers realised their peril. Throughout the void, mankind started to mobilise. It turned this way and that. And it was then the Makers felt true fear.

From everywhere, from every single one of their ships, their ships that could travel faster than the speed of light in the physical space, from every colony, from every Space station, there came transmissions. The Makers knew not how they could hear it, but it came from every corner of the humans' empire nonetheless. Transmissions of a few million voices of different accents, genders, pitches and methods of speech. All of the transmissions were the same. All of them carried those same words, in that same cold tone which sent pure, unrefined fear into the Makers' hearts.

"We know you are out there, and we are coming for you."

Description
In the beginning, there were the Makers. None knew where they came from; only that their mission was to bring order from the nameless, shapeless void between the stars.
They arrived, and saw Death. No life existed, no energy flew.
And so began the Raising.

To breathe air into the skies, they Raised the giganti, a mighty race whose size and brutal appearance masked their intelligence.
To dredge out the fanthomless depths beneath the seas, they Raised the oceani; adaptive beasts who would evolve and bring forth all ocean-dwelling life.
To carve mighty caverns and crevasses they Raised the lazarisi, whose numbers were legion and inquisitive nature drove them to ever hack and cleave away at the rock.
To watch over it all they Raised the Dark Ones; mysterious and shadowlike beings that would observe, and report all they saw to the Makers.
And to inherit it all, they left humanity. And that's when it all went wrong.

Even from its awakening, its first steps into the bright unknown, humanity was a failure. It struggled and whined like a helpless child against the smallest of threats.
When half of the time allowed for the Plan had passed, they were a primitive, and barbaric race. Dark One and Maker alike watched in horror as they blindly slaughtered their own kin with metal and fire.
Through the latest parts of the time the Makers had allowed them, humanity was an shuddering and dying race, unable to solve the problems within its own arm's reach. With disgust, the Makers readied the Solution, and released it unto the world they wrought, the great waste of hope and life which they had brought up.

It was a long while before the Solution would reach the world, but many a Maker and Dark One had thought it was long enough. They would see that failure suffer only a little while longer, before all was reverted and they could start again.
Then, it was as if the winds of change had stopped, and reversed direction absolutely.

Humanity grew from a whimpering, mewling failure to all the Makers had hoped, and more.
Their work truly reflected their nature. Order and organisation became within humanity's very being. Their wars were of organised defeats, utilizing tactics and communication. They expanded, and reached space. And it was there, with the invention of physical space travel, that the Makers knew they had done well.
But they wept, for the Solution was approaching, and could not be stopped.

Humanity grew, and expanded, and from the dead husks of the worlds it had conquered it wrought great Art and Industry. The Makers rejoiced. Perhaps they too could share this Art and this Industry that their own creation had made.
But they had forgotten. They forgot about their own Solution, which then fulfilled its purpose.

The Solution was in its essence the perfect to to erase any problem. But the Makers wept, for they had made it too perfect, too flawless in its functionality.
The death of the world was by neutron fire; that had been the perfect tool to cleanse the supposed failure of all life and energy. And the Makers wept, for the blue-green jewel that they named Earth, the center of their Art and their Industry was gone.

It was then, that the Makers realised their peril. Throughout the void, mankind started to mobilise. It turned this way and that. And it was then the Makers felt true fear.

From everywhere, from every single one of their ships, their ships that could travel faster than the speed of light in the physical space, from every colony, from every Space station, there came transmissions. The Makers knew not how they could hear it, but it came from every corner of the humans' empire nonetheless. Transmissions of a few million voices of different accents, genders, pitches and methods of speech. All of the transmissions were the same. All of them carried those same words, in that same cold tone which sent pure, unrefined fear into the Makers' hearts.

"We know you are out there, and we are coming for you."