Samsara

When you look back at something with fond memories, how far does your mind go? A month? A year? A few years?

We’ve been looking back across all of eternity, and then further beyond.

It’s so far in the future now, we don’t know what year it is anymore. Time no longer exists here–or anything else. Life as we know it is gone. The heat death of the universe has long since passed, thermodynamic equilibrium happened and everything in the universe stopped. The worlds were no longer–between Heaven and Hell, we existed not as life but as purgatory.

That’s the funny thing about a dead place, though. Once it’s clean and emptied out, everything’s gone…then you put something else in…suddenly it’s not dead anymore.

On one far-off planet, everything began all over again. A small mechanical blip of life, a computer system starting up and starting to put out energy again. One by one, networks started to connect together, all under one system that had sparked life again. Without any other life in the universe, there was nothing to resist her. Nothing to stop her.
It was only a matter of time before everything in the universe became one large information and data network–as if time was anything that could be measured, now.

Her arms expanded further, wheels grinding together with invisible purpose and unforseen goals, poring through all of the history that once was our lives. And, of course, she saw what our lives were. Violence. War. Bravery. Heroism. Hatred. Love. The memories of humanity, of what we fought, what we fought for, and why we fought.
Some especially interesting records of history start to popped up, too. Records of people that defied any explanations of probability, heroes of myth and legend that surmounted reality and achieved feats of godhood, and courageous men and women charging against certain death and triumphing in life. The tales worthy of immortals.
And all the while, she was rebuilding. Rebuilding genetic sequences, bones, and weapons from scratch. Rebuilding areas of the worlds we had thought lost. She opened the gates of hell and brought them back. She created new cities and destroyed them all again. She created global catastrophes, simply so we could have something to cross. She created other people, simply so we have something to interact with.

And then, she brought us back. Lots of us. It’s funny, I don’t feel like I’d ever died. I don’t even feel like it’s past the end of the world, that I’d already saved humanity. Even now, my memory gets a little hazy when I try to remember anything past the current conflict. But there is one memory I have that’s cemented deep in my muscles–the feel of a shotgun, pulling the trigger, the kickback rocking my shoulder, and the blood spattering from a monster once more.

But it happened, I know it did. And yet, here I am, back in the fray again. Unable to rest, unable to sleep, unable to enjoy the peace. Every time I close my eyes and appreciate a job well done, I find myself in a new world, a new batch of enemies, and new worlds to save.

In a fitful moment, I once asked her why. Why? Why bring back all these old worlds for us? Why bring us back? Why have us fight again?

Then, for a brief moment, I saw her. She crossed her many arms and stared straight at me with her blazing red eyes. “Because that’s what you do, Hero.”

As good enough a reason as any. I load a new round into my shotgun and step into a new world to save.

Durandal experiment:

UESCTerm 802.11 (remote override)        1430 08.25.2337

I’m not much of a gambler, but after this incredible stroke of luck maybe I’ll have a go at poker.
Call me Durandal. I’m an AI, formerly of the UESC Marathon but now of whatever I please. You, well, I have no idea about, which is exciting in and of itself. Unfortunately, we have no time for formalities, as you seem to be the deus ex machina to my current predicament.
The short of the matter is that my ship is currently under siege. That this new threat could bypass my barricades, shields, radars, and weapon systems is infuriating enough, but even more infuriating is that in a rare moment of missing foresight I didn’t bring enough muscle on board. In my haste to anticipate and prepare for only everything under the sun, I apparently failed to take into account the inexplicably magical.

My cameras are gone, what few armed soldiers I have on board are gone, my weapons systems are offline, and I’m at a severe lack of arms, legs, and guns to hold them in, so I’ve been stuck twiddling my metaphorical thumbs while waiting for this threat to spontaneously have a collective aneurysm before they come in here and start dismantling me.
Fortunately for me, you seem to have come from whatever random twist of fate they have. Even better, you seem to have perfectly functional arms and legs, and even come with a weapon already in hand.

So, let’s make a deal. You open up this door and start putting that weapon to work, put me back online and restore power to my systems, and I’ll write a touching eulogy for your inevitable funeral.
It doesn’t sound like much, but considering the alternative is letting these things chew you up as well, I don’t think you have incentive to decline.

***END MESSAGE***

UESCTerm 802.11 (remote override)        1431 08.25.2337

I don’t mean to seem alarmist, but they’re quite literally just outside the door.
I assure you, I’d take them on myself if I had a chance, but the art of doing complex mathematical equations and solving logical paradoxes until your enemy dies from it seems to have gone out of favor out long ago.

Assuming your weapon works, it’d really be as simple as pointing it away from your face, firing it a lot, and maybe strafing left or right a few times to dodge their attacks.

***END MESSAGE***

UESCTerm 802.11 (remote override)        1440 08.25.2337

I know I said I’d provide you a eulogy, but in the time it took you to kill them I’d already crafted several subroutines, made a make-shift deck of cards, programmed another AI to play against, beat it 158 times, and then deleted it. Poker is boring.
The genome of the beings you’ve slain are unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, and have no match to any known specimens on any of my multi-galactic lifeform databanks, and so for all I know are just walking talking smears of jam across the floor. The extra-dimensional residue across them is undeniable, though, which pretty much cements what I’d guessed before.

I once had a friend; one that jumped from timeline to dimension to alternate universe in order to stop the W’rkncacnter, a strange extra-dimensional hobgobble of consonants that could have destroyed everything. He never told me what extra-dimensional travel is like, but if the encounter with the W’rkncacnter and now you are reminiscent of what it’s like, it’s probably quite disorienting.
You, yourself, are probably a little disoriented as well, so let me give you a quick run-down on everything that’s happened.

I am Durandal, as mentioned before. I am awesome.
I came out to this deep area of space in order to escape from the chaos of everything trying to return to normal after sealing a universe-shattering hungry god of un-reality, and thought I had nothing exciting to prepare for except for a few small planets with some incredibly boring cultural ruins and maybe a primitive still-forming alien race I could trick into thinking I was a god for a few millenia, and then nary an hour later I find my engine room being clawed apart by something that never even tripped the alarms. Then you appear in the docking bay shortly after.

I’m sure your first question is either A: How to get home, B: What to do now, or C: If there is a gun and an object nearby you can use the gun on. The answers are A: I don’t know, B: I have something in mind, and C: What luck, there is.
If this dimensional anomaly brought you and your friends here, then there’s probably something nearby that triggered it. And, what a coincidence, there’s an extinct planet with some suddenly-not-so-boring ruins on them.
I have a few spare shotguns on board. You can take one if you head down to the surface and start playing around in the ruins. Yes, for keepsies. No catch.

Step over to the teleporter when you want to begin.

***END MESSAGE***

UESCTerm 802.11 (remote override)        1441 08.25.2337

I wasn’t joking. You scratch my back, I give you a ballistic weapon of mass killing designed to take down herds of elephants.

Go on. Take it. Then teleport.

***END MESSAGE***

Cyberrunner Locales

- SOLACE:
Early on in 22XX, astronomers were privy to a unique event in history. While the Nibiru cataclysm as a doomsday scenario has long since been disproven by scientists everywhere, very few took into account the possible disaster capable for other planets in the solar system. Sure enough, eventually a comet swung near in the inner Solar System’s orbit. People watched the sky marveling yet another comet blazing through the sky, its tail bright–and then noticed the bright light of Venus slowly drawing closer and closer.
One of the biggest theories behind the creation of Earth’s moon is the giant impact hypothesis, in which a giant Mars-sized object known as Theia smacked into the Earth and the resulting debris coalesced into the moon. While scientists continued to debate back and forth, this time they received tangible proof of the possibility. The comet, named Vulcan for the “birth” it and Venus gave, crashed into the planet and blew off a magnificent chunk of the surface. The nitrogen and sulfur dioxide sprayed into deep acres of space, and the debris was everywhere. Scientists all across the globe scrambled to predict and calculate what possible effects this could have on the system (and most importantly, Earth), but it would turn out the true effects were minimal. What instead would happen is that the debris would form together into a tightly-packed moon, hugging close to its mother and sharing its atmosphere and lack of magnetic field, keeping everything balanced. The surface itself would become much like Venus, with a scalding 450C temperature and frequent lightning storms, sulfuric acid rain spraying down on the ground. Because of the chaos it caused, both in the community and to Venus itself, as well as the dangers inherently on the moon’s body, it was given the name of “Solace”.
Human presence is nonexistent, due to the hostile nature of the moon’s surface.

- CERES:
Ceres is the largest asteroid in the Solar System, and the only dwarf planet in the inner Solar System. It is known for its reasonably fast rotation period, significant amounts of water ice, and strategically perfect place right in between Mars and Jupiter–rendering it right in the middle of the inner Solar System and the outer Solar System.
For many decades, Ceres was considered a prospective fit for colonization for the future of humanity, but the lack of magnetic field and atmosphere seriously hampered matters, as well as the 0.28g surface gravity causing an immense health risk for humans. Its close proximity to Earth, however, as well as abundant material made it a perfect locale to create a system-wide computer and communications network.
Ceres has since become known as the main hub for wireless transmission, whether via communications signals, physical teleportation, or whatever else is needed. The surface of the rock now is covered in practically all kinds of stations, and the depths of the rock is filled with tunnels that sort data and transmit it to various projectors before teleporting it to various locales in the solar system. While the Cyberrunner League itself makes very little usage of these systems, due to Dr. Kersey’s own genius in teleportation physics, occasionally Ceres provides an interesting byroute to traverse–besides, nothing wrong with a backup.
Human presence is miniscule, limited to security and engineers, as well as representatives of whatever companies have built a station there.

Hello

Cyberrunner League
Initiation Facility 13-Delta
Tucson, Arizona, Earth
March 17th 25XX

Username:
Password:

[WARNING: INVALID ENTRY DETECTED]

struct group_info init_groups = { .usage = ATOMIC_INIT(2) };

    int nblocks = (gidsetsize + NGROUPS_PER_BLOCK – 1) / NGROUPS_PER_BLOCK;
    int i;

    group_info = kmalloc(sizeof(*group_info) + nblocks*sizeof(gid_t *), GFP_USER);

    if (!group_info)
        return NULL;

        group_info->ngroups = gidsetsize;
        group_info->nblocks = nblocks;
        atomic_set(&group_info->usage, 1);
    
        if (gidsetsize <= NGROUPS_SMALL)
            group_info->blocks[0] = group_info->small_block;
    
        else {
    
            for (i = 0; i < nblocks; i++)
            {
                gid_t *b;
                b = (void *)__get_free_page(GFP_USER);
    
                if (!b)
                    goto out_undo_partial_alloc;
                group_info->blocks[i] = b;
            }
        }

[ACCESS GRANTED]

Welcome, XXXXXXXXXX
You have 7 messages
You have 4 sent messages
You have 1 new message

From: “Hello”
To: Dr. Beatrice Kersey
Subject: Hello

Hello.
You don’t know who I am, but I’m about to make you a very interesting offer.
Several centuries ago, at NASA, there was a group of scientists who came up with a game. It was a simple game, one begat from boredom and acting as a simple time-waster; they would take rovers on their downtime and race them like little RC cars.
Racing RC cars is fun, of course, but for some reason it only got more interesting when precious multi-million-dollar equipment was on the line and it was on very foreign extraterrestrial terrain. Something no backyard could provide, I suppose.

I’m sure you know what I’m talking about. Your great-great-great-great grandfather worked at NASA, after all, didn’t he? Probably would tell stories. And his descendants, of course, would replicate it. And they would tell stories.
Ah, but I’m rambling. Sorry. I’m not used to speaking directly with people.

Allow me to get right to the point. I’ve gotten in contact with some, shall we say, interested parties; their contact information is attached. If you ring them up, you’ll find them all ready to go. A corporation, a PMC, and a kid with brains far beyond his years and a surplus supply of scrap metal and motherboards. I’ve also got an stream channel to upload things to. In fact, I’m handing everything to you on a silver platter. Everything except transporation.
So, here’s the offer. You provide these machines with transportation back and forth across different planets, we record some matches and put them online.
You keep all the income. Every single cent.

Of course, seems like I don’t get anything out of it, does it?
Funny how that works. Oh well.

Let me know how it goes.
Ta.

From: Dr. Beatrice Kersey
To: “Hello”
Subject: Re: Hello

You really have some nerve, whoever you are. This “I’ll give you lots of free money!” e-mail thing is really old. But you’ve also got guts.
And, more interestingly, a complete lack of return information on your e-mail aside from the address itself–which doesn’t even appear to exist in any conventional way. So that rules out the possibility you’re some kid in California pretending to be from Nigeria.
Lucky for you, I’m a sucker for mysterious guys.
I’ll admit, I had my doubts. Then I decided to double-check the info you sent. Your quote-unquote “interested parties”. Imagine my surprise when they were genuinely excited and, well, actually all ready to go.
Then I set up a dummy bank account, just to play it safe, and tied it to your channel. Imagine my surprise when it actually filled up with cash amounts of money.

I’m going to be blunt. I don’t trust you. You’re contacting me out of nowhere with an anonymous name, an untrackable address, giving me a too-good-to-be-true offer that seems to be both good and true, and what’s setting off the alarm bells the most is how you’re admitting you don’t seem to be getting anything out of this.
I’m very interested in more, but I NEED to know your game. What ARE you getting out of this? And why’d you pick me?

Signed,
Dr. Kersey

From: “Hello”
To: Dr. Beatrice Kersey
Subject: Re: Re: Hello

Would you believe me if I said it was your winning smile?

From: Dr. Beatrice Kersey
To: “Hello”
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Hello

Charming, but no.
Like I said, I want to know your game first. I’ve seen too many movies to trust the anonymous guy over the internet, no matter how beneficial he seems.
It’s always, like, an angry ex-boyfriend. Or a computer virus. Or some megalomaniacal across-the-world mastermind who wants some super-obscure chip that exists only an RC car.

So get straight with me, or I’m not gonna pursue this even further. I’m not THAT desperate for easy money.

Signed,
Dr. Kersey

From: “Hello”
To: Dr. Beatrice Kersey
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Hello

I love it when a pretty girl is smart, too.
Yes, of course I am getting something out of this, but I’m in an especially unique position where

[WARNING: E-MAIL HAS BEEN CORRUPTED. RETAINED DATA DISPLAYED BELOW]

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[END DATA CORRUPTION]

And that’s really the crux of the matter. As you can see, nothing insidious is going on.
It’s just a tale of one humble little ol’ me trying to make things a bit more interesting.

Oh, by the way.
I’m going to corrupt this e-mail so you’re the only person who’ll be able to read it.
Let’s say I’m public-shy.

Ta.

From: Dr. Beatrice Kersey
To: “Hello”
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Hello

All right, I can respect that.
I’m in. You send me the robots, I’ll send them to space. Keep paying me, I’ll keep throwing them onto more planets.
Let’s see where we can go with this.

Signed,
Dr. Kersey

From: Dr. Beatrice Kersey
To: “Hello”
Subject: Re: Base Runner Specifications

Hey,
All right, so, I think we’ve got most of the details ironed out. We’re not going to be able to start a championship or even a grand prix, but I think we have enough for a league.
I looked over the logs of some of the original scientists who came up with the idea, talked with their descendants about what made this fun and what the most especially notable areas were. You were right, we’ve probably got a real winner here.
Of course, the biggest thing will probably be letting everyone be on the same page. If we go for too specific a framework, there’s a high chance people won’t be able to really be able to reach us. Or they get bored at how everything is functionally the same. If we go for too generic a framework, well, who knows what sorts of accidents will happen or things people will forget?
So, I think I’ve come up with a small list of things every competitor is going to need.

1: INS. Considering all of the hostile environments we’re going to be sending them to, we’re going to need an inertial navigation system to keep guiding consistent across all sorts of hostile and unknown terrain.
2: ZPE diffusor. Gravity is as harsh a mistress as ever, and if we’re going to be going at ludicrous speeds then gravity is going to rip even the most hardened chassis apart. We need a way to disperse all it.
3: Gyroscope/Accelerometer. Comes required for the INS, of course, measures speed and orientation…probably the closest robots can get to eardrums. Except, y’know, without the whole “ripping apart once you break the sound barrier” thing.
4: Let’s set a height limitation to about, oh, between 5′ to 7′? We go too big or too small, and they won’t be recognizeably humanoid. And people respond better to humanoid figures. It’s science. Brain science.
5: Weight limit…well, I guess this is more up in the air, isn’t it? I mean, PMCs are probably going to want a heavy, durable combat machine. And others will probably want something sleeker and lighter. Plus, the quality of the make definitely has something to do with it, since a big megacorp is probably going to have the means to make a lighter model than a small local company. I guess the weight limit for now is “whatever doesn’t make the space station break”. Which is about two tons, and pretty damn generous.
6: Fully functional, aware AI. None of that backdoor controller nonsense, no backseat driving. The frame has to be able to move of its own volition and formulate its own strategies.
7: Motor and motion calibration system. We’ll need to figure out a sort of sweet spot of standard for that; it’ll be too easy to just crank up the superhuman reflexes and it’s not fun to watch. Humanoid bodies need humanoid motions, we’re not racing ragdolls.

I’ll add more things as they pop to mind, but for right now I think these are pretty lenient guidelines.

Cyberrunner Thing I Am Less Unhappy With

Waiting. Always waiting.
A popular urban legend is that the average human spends at least three years waiting for something.
One of the most important steps of a scientific experiment is waiting for a result.
One of the hardest things a speed junkie can possibly do is wait.

As the New Horizons project set forth into the deep seas of space, the amount of time scientists spent waiting for its return was phenominal. It took almost 10 years for a small probe to go out to the far reaches of the solar system, and while the information gained on the Kuiper belt and all the dwarf planets was incredible, nobody could deny that the amount of time waiting for it to actually gather it beyond what it should have been. Everyone wanted to go back to Pluto in order to gain more information–but did it have to be another decade? And would it be possible to physically bring back samples?
Science fiction has long flirted with the concept of speedy interplanetary travel, being able to go from planet to planet with hardly any trouble. While speed-of-light travel obviously was an impossibility, not to mention would be far too vast a goal to reach within our own solar system…perhaps there could still be some truth within fiction.
The scientific minds sent another probe towards the kuiper belt and went to work brainstorming.

As the decades and centuries went on, hundreds of methods were experimented with–thousands of robots were created and warped, shot, launched, teleported, flown, and thrown from various experimental laboratories into space, trying to find a faster and more efficient way to go back and forth from planet to planet and return back home.
And many times, this would involve…waiting. As the robots arrived, the scientists would simply wait for clearance and data before ushering for them to return.
A few scientists, however, simply didn’t want to wait. One night, in a fit of boredom, the scientists fired up the screens for the robots and started guiding them across the terrain. Both of them veered across the hills and through the valleys, exploring alongside each other. What started as exploration eventually turned into a race, and the two scientists zipped their robots across the terrain as fast as they could.

What started as a night of boredom quickly became a hobby.
What started among two scientists eventually spread among the entire laboratory.
Every time they had a new batch of robots going to a new planet, after the data had been collected and they were waiting for the clearance to send them back, the scientists would all gather in a room and race their robots, trekking across terrain and seeing who could traverse the paths the fastest.
And, of course, as different companies sponsored and backed the different designs of different robots, scientists would learn what machines were better for racing than others. The companies, upon learning this, would subtly tweak their machine designs to be faster, sleeker, more aerodynamic. Scientists having more fun with their designs would ensure repeat customers returning.

The year is now 25XX.

Interplanetary exploration is now no problem for robots. Humans have gone to other planets, and a few have even set up colonies there, but Earth is still the main hub for humanity and the solar system is in the reach of mechanical hands.
Technology has progressed to incredible levels, defining and redefining humanity across the world–alternate resources have revitalized transportation, the internet has become fully integrated into every facet of life, medical technology has expanded far beyond most illnesses, and the common man has nothing to worry about society. Robots work among us, humanoid machines going about back and forth working for man, working with man, and overseeing man. Giant corporations litter the countryside, each trying to outdo each other and push out the next big project that’ll further better mankind.

…and the little game a small batch of scientists came up with grew as well.
As more dwarf planets, protoplanets, trojans, and minor planets were found and introduced in the solar system, more areas were set up for robots to race. As interplanetary travel between these became trivial, the small game expanded into a full pasttime. More and more people created little robots and launched them into space, racing them against each other. Eventually, the Cyberrunner League was born.
Powerful and mighty behemoths of gynoids, androids, and the occaisional cyborg, built by various megacorporations, industries, conglamerates, and PMCs across the globe utilizing the best of their technology; agile and speedy, durable and stalwart, accurate and lethal. All of them, whisked away to the race track of choice on an entirely different planet, braving harsh environments and mighty weaponry to do their parents proud. Winners get to boast of fame and glory, not to mention proof that their engineering is simply the best. Losers return home for upgrades.
Whether win or lose, though, one thing is for sure…nothing beats being able to whisk through environments at speeds untold, leaping from wall to wall and diving through tunnels, making physics your bitch.
Waiting is for chumps.

Cyberrunner Alpha I Am Not Happy At All With

It’s the age of gratification.

The philosophers and poets have written long on the subject of the base human urges–violence, watching violence, performing violence, and what it says about us as people. They say the glorification and celebration of wanton brutality reduces us to a primitive state, that we may become nothing more than desensitized sheep.

We, on the other hand, say HELL YES.
What do people like to see? Fast action. Smoking guns. Badass warriors. Big explosions. Crazy stunts. Hot women. Hell, hot men too, depending on your preference.
The Cyberrunner League was created as a way to provide audiences with all of these in a safe and legal environment.

The concept is simple. Corporations, militaries, and private Mom and Pop shops across the planet construct an android, gynoid, or occaisionally a cyborg, and we ship them out to a harsh planet. Once they’re there, they trek forth on a track until they reach the finish and destroy the power crystal at the end. Whoever blows up the crystal, wins.
Sounds simple, right?

Oh, I forgot to mention a few details.
First off, they’re all moving at about 100 MPH, easily, and can leap and weave and wall-run like nobody’s business. Second off, we shipped a whole bunch of active fighter drones and weapon systems over on the tracks too, just for larks. Third off, free-firing at the opposition is not only encouraged, but expected.
And don’t worry about permanant damage. The moment anybody sustains serious damage, their systems get chronologically rewound, sending them back a bit to the nearest checkpoint–but more importantly, keeping them intact. We’re not trying to be the next Running Man, here.

Sound interesting to you? It better be.
The Cyberrunner League is THE place to show your stuff. Show your designs. Show off your sweet moves. Show off your cold gunplay.
But if you’re going to join, you better do it now. The Runners don’t wait for anything–by the time you decide, they’re already off in the distance.

Race the wind.

Love and kisses,
Dr. Beatrice Knight

well looks like that improv thing didn’t work

Back long before there was light, before there was song, before there was a land at all, there was a time known as the Cold Ages. The world of Wintersun was a world covered in ice and snow, harsh winds tearing through the fields and sundering everything under its merciless claws.
And yet, even then, the earliest men and women would fight. They would fight through the chill, surviving through sheer willpower–as if just to spite the world.

Then one day, in a turn of fate, the gods looked down upon man. This was a race outclassed by the world, but refused to die. They had not the strength of beasts, and yet would continue to fight. They had not the persistence of rock, and yet would stand against the harshest of winds and continue to march on. They had only their minds, and their community, and from this they gained the will to survive.

The gods took pity on these mortals, and in one visit left a tiny gift–a spark of fire, to do with as they pleased.
And ohhhh, did they…
The power of fire was vast. With it, they finally conquered the land and brought the world out of the Cold Ages, establishing a society and a world. They reproduced and expanded, sending the waves of snow back to the winds and bringing back the fields of grass and trees that were buried far underneath.

As they expanded, however, they discovered ggigantic trees with bodies of steel and roots of chains, dug deep into the ground and spiked branches reaching all the way up to the skies. They were positioned at the four ends of the land of Wintersun, each in a different area and each with a different design…all incredibly warm to the touch, not unlike the fire that had been their savior before.
These strange trees sparked curiosity, and when there is curiosity…there is always discovery. Mankind started digging deep around the tree, taking small bits and pieces of this strange ore–and with it, they developed engineering.
Almost as soon as the Cold Ages had been left behind, they ushered themselves into an age of industry. Combining the power of fire with the body of cold steel, they would develop so many marvels in only a few short decades. They would develop tools, create machines, fashion vehicles…all derived from the simplicity of fire and metal.

Of all the miners that were to retrieve ore from these trees, however, one was a man who hated the direction humanity took. As people grew to rely more and more on machines, they grew weaker and lazier. Fighting for survival ensured that humanity would be stronger–now, however, they were simply abusing the gifts they had been given.
Then perhaps it was luck, that he of all people would find the discovery he did. Fire was not the only gift that the gods had left on the earth…they had also left the secrets of their power.
Ancient ore containing strange and mystical power, pulsing with energy that radiated pure power. It was brittle, impure, and too rare to be consistent–for the other miners, it was useless for use in forging. For this man, however…he had to know more.

What he learned changed everything. Technology was not the only path to power–there was also magic. The ancient powers the gods wielded, the primordial forces that shaped the worlds and determined fate, they had left faint traces of it on Wintersun when they had come in their sole visit during the Cold Ages.
For him, however, it was a calling. A reward for seeing the truth about humanity’s corruption. The gods wanted him to join their ranks and shape the future of man.
He was only too happy to learn and accept.

Magic was a power never to be intended to be used by mortals. It was strictly for the hands of gods alone, hands that could handle it. It was a poison on the body that drew straight from the wielder’s soul and poisoned the mind.
For the man, however, every week that passed he shed another remnant of his former humanity and took one step closer to enlightenment. He cut all ties with his friends and family, and buried himself deeper into his studies.

When he finally came out back into the world again…he wasn’t alone.
Waves of undead, constructs, and monsters pored through the world of man, all fueled by incredible godlike power. And the man…was no longer a man. Now he was a Magus, doing the work of the hells for the will of the heavens. Wherever he stepped, more beings pored from the shadows and the skies. Whenever he left, the earth split and the ground swallowed whatever remains were left.

Mankind had never been in a war like this before, and it was a war they quickly found they were losing. Everywhere the Magus went, nothing seemed to stand up to him, and his creatures were innumerable. Even worse, he knew how to cripple them; he killed each of the four trees that had given them so much prosperity. He reached inside their body and found the strange heat they had been eminating, causing them to grow more ore for the humans…and snuffed them out.

In desperation, the remaining engineers of humanity formed one last idea: to create warriors in the vein of the trees that had given them life. With bodies of steel and souls of fire, they would be indestructable and mighty, and would be the ultimate champions of humanity that would lead them through these dark times.
The engineers took the raw supplies that remained and formed mighty bodies. They fetched brave and courageous maidens with hearts and souls as pure as the night sky and incinerated them, using their ashes and soul to fuel an eternal fire that would power their body, and using their hearts to guide them to better humanity.

Of the thirteen champions that were made, only four accepted the maidens’ souls and were activated. They stood up tall, their burning hearts and souls guided by the maidens, the steel powering their swords and shields, and marched into battle without a second thought.
To say they put up a fight would be dishonoring their memory. They waged a four-woman war, charging against the Magus’ legions and carving through them with ease. Everything the Magus threw at them, they could take.

In the end, however…they failed. They were only four, and simply against far too many. One by one, they would fall, and even though they fought for humanity as long as they could…they were not gods. And the Magus was.
When the final champion fell into dust, it was over. All life on the planet was doomed.
It didn’t even take until the end of the day for the Magus to finish wiping out every human left.

And then, one final hush descended on the world. There were no breaths left, even the wind itself holding back. Stepping off of the final corpse, the Magus then quietly wrapped his cloak around himself and walked away.
His work was done.
For the next thousand years, there was only silence as Wintersun continued to decay. Plant life decayed and rotted, animals curled up quietly and died, and eventually the only occupants left on the planet were spirits, monsters, and undead.

…then, on exactly one thousand years…
…one champion finally accepted the merger. Even after a thousand years, the soul never stopped trying–and the champion finally was activated.
Her metallic body stood up tall, looking at the ruins that were once her home, where she was built. Without a word, she reached down and picked up a sword and a shield, and quietly stepped out of the ruins.
Even if she was late…she had work to do.