This universe is dying. It expands perpetually at an ever-increasing rate, gradually approaching absolute zero temperature. Ghost planets, dead stars and black holes. This is its fate: the heat death of the universe. It is in the latter stages, with less than five million years left. Billions of stars have been snuffed out of existence. And the blackness of space has been stretched, bruised and reduced to a ruby red. The last races can only watch helplessly as their universe descends into darkness. This is the universe which exists directly below UNIVERSE 1601: The N-ZONE (It has yet to receive this name from its much younger counterpart).
Somewhere in space, gravity is altered. It stops expanding and begins spinning, conforming to a spiral pattern. The pattern quickly becomes visible as it spins with increasing speed, flashing with a violent, blue energy. It makes a thunderous sound when it rips open, energy shooting in all directions like lighting.
An object passed through the portal. It’s mechanical, almost like a starship, but with unusual features. It had a face, purple glowing eyes, hook-like feet and purple, crescent shaped wings. It looked like an insect. As the thing passed through, others quickly followed. There are too many to count. There are legions of them flying together like a swarm of locusts. And they can speak.
‘Seek. Consume. Seek. Seek. Consume.’
To some races, it is called ‘the Unmaker’, or ‘the Destroyer’. But it is universally known as the Gah Lak Tus swarm.
The leading drone made a u-turn and the others followed. It headed towards the portal that had cast it out and separated it from its family. But the portal seemed to be unstable. The leading drone raced regardless. It quickly closed the gap and attempted to re-enter its universe. But the portal seemingly, almost instantaneously, closed on the drone, severing it in half between dimensions.
‘Energy source detected,’ a smaller drone said.
It raced behind its leader and began to fire purple beams of energy. The drone seemed to act on instinct as if it were hunting. It released two long tendrils and latched itself onto the lifeless drone.
‘Consume,’ it said as the tendrils penetrated the husk, sucking whatever power it had left. It grew twice its original size and became the leading drone.
For over a thousand years the swarm drifted through space. Its search was futile. As resources depleted, one drone would often attack another (generally one with the littlest power left) simply to stave off the hunger. The leading drone was attacked in the same manner and the position fell on another drone, and then another, and another.
‘Energy source detected,’ they said in a manic frenzy.
All the planets they encountered were dead, and this one was no different. But what they found value in, their scanners analysed was radiation. The highest concentration was found in what was clearly a supercontinent. The planet was probably involved in a nuclear war of some sort and had destroyed itself. The universe didn’t care.
‘Consume. Consume. Consume.’
The swarm descended in the thousands and began driving their mechanical tendrils into the soil. The radiation was enough to refuel their reserves. But while they consumed, the leading drone began to think.
The swarm had been isolated from its much larger family. Therefore it was more vulnerable. And the universe it was in barely yielded any energy at all. The swarm needed to conserve energy, but increase defensibility.
‘Learn,’ it said, and the others echoed its words.
It began to search though its databanks. It had destroyed countless species before. There must be something of value. The concept of the swarm can no longer work. It cannot be a swarm any longer. It must be something new, a new entity. Then it found something; most of the threats it encountered were humanoid. It pondered, humanoid must be a universal template representing the pinnacle of the cosmic hierarchy. It must be humanoid.
‘Adapt,’ it said as it sent its message to its brethren, only to be shot dead.
‘Madness,’ one said.
‘Illogical,’ said another.
‘Insanity.’
The swarm continued feeding. Because their numbers were little, it took several months before they consumed all the planets radiation. And then they all came to a standstill. Several drones seemed possessed with the idea of adaptability.
‘Adapt,’ they said.
Others began to respond by firing, only for themselves to be shot down.
‘Adapt,’ the voices continued, it was almost like a protest, or something greater. ‘Combine.’
Several of the protesting drones huddled together and began to change. At one point, the form was a chaotic mass, but it began to distribute its size equally, turning into what looked like a humanoid hand.
‘Combine,’ they continued.
The idea was mad. It defeated the purpose of the swarm. But as the reluctant drones analysed the results, they quickly adopted the thinking.
Patience over hunger was the deciding factor. The entire process took several days as the drones reshaped themselves, conforming and fitting into larger structures. The result was four new entities. These humanoids were giants, taller than skyscrapers. They spoke with almost a symbiotic connection.
‘Live.’
‘Exist.’
‘Survive.’
‘Subsist.’
They were a swarm no longer, but the Mad Celestials. They walked in opposition directions and ascended into the red sky.
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