Once, the Earth and its people ruled the stars.
Not as explorers.Not as liberators.But as conquerors.
Even the mightiest alien species — creatures older than our sun — spoke our name with dread.We devoured planets, dismantled empires, and turned galaxies into trophies.
Allied coalitions rose against us, but even together, they shattered before our hunger.
We told ourselves it was survival. Progress. Destiny.But deep down, we knew the truth.It was greed.
And that greed made us invincible.But it also made us afraid.
In secret, the higher ranks of humanity whispered of something buried at the edge of reality — a power older than time, sealed away for a reason.They feared it, even as they sought to control it. That fear is why we became tyrants, why we struck first and ruled with iron: not to protect our worlds, but to keep others from finding what we had unearthed.
Then one day, it appeared.
A being pure white, like a god sculpted from living light. Its presence warped minds, its voice was a language that clawed at the soul. For one heartbeat, we thought it divine. For the next, we realized our mistake.
It was no savior.It was a demon freed from its chains.
I, Femil, was there when its radiant body turned black — a dying star collapsing in on itself. I saw fleets burn, worlds unravel, and the proudest generals of Earth stay strong until the end… and never win.
In chaos, my commander seized me. His eyes, once cold and sharp, now burned with something like hope. He injected something into my veins — a fluid that glowed like molten silver, alive, humming with power."Live," he ordered, voice trembling.
Then the universe collapsed into darkness.
The stars died.And I vanished with them.
When I opened my eyes again, the war was over.I lay on a barren world beneath an alien sky.
The soil was black as ash, yet soft beneath my hands.The trees here grew tall and spiral-shaped, their bark pale and smooth, their leaves whispering like glass. The fruits they bore glowed faintly in the dusk — familiar, like Earth's apples and pears, yet shaped by something otherworldly. When I tasted one, it was sweet and cold, as if it remembered rain that never fell.
There were no cities, no ruins, no signs of life — not even the faintest hum of alien transmissions.This world was uncharted, nameless, untouched.A place no star map had ever marked.Even the stars above seemed… wrong, scattered like a memory half-forgotten.
For days — or perhaps weeks — I searched for any trace of human civilization.All I found were fragments buried in the dust: torn flags, half-buried weapons, and the faded emblem of Earth's once-mighty empire.
I thought only a century had passed.The decay suggested so. The silence confirmed it.
But I was wrong.
This planet, whatever it is, exists in a fold of space — a region where time itself bends and bleeds.My ship's wreckage, half-fused into the soil, still hums faintly with residual quantum radiation. I have studied it long enough to know: time here moves differently.
Every hour I live on this world is a year beyond its veil.What I believed to be a hundred years… was a thousand in the real universe.
Humanity — my people — are no longer the rulers of the stars.They are ghosts, myths whispered by the races that replaced them.
And me?I have not aged a day. My blood feels heavier, stronger. Whatever my commander injected into me wasn't just a serum — it was something else. Humanity's greatest invention… and perhaps its final sin.
Now, as I walk beneath these alien trees and taste the fruit of a world that should not exist, I finally understand the fear our leaders carried. The power we disturbed, the being we tried to chain — it was never meant to be touched.
But that same power now lives inside me.It whispers when I sleep.It hums when I bleed.
And one day, I will follow that whisper — through the fractures of time and memory — to uncover what truly destroyed us.
Or finish what we began a thousand years ago.