ID: 501

Outcome: Failure

Open After Story: Yes

Manual Prompt: No

Text:

All turned to white, all turned to silence, all was restored to the world's first dawn... just as the Purist had willed. The world lay like an untouched gift-box, awaiting its master's return.



Many years passed. No life arose upon this planet, the Purist would not suffer souls to defile the Creator's work again.



Then came a silver, egg-shaped vessel. It circled long above the ruins of the fallen empire, venting pale vapors, before extending four slender mechanical legs to alight upon the earth with delicate care.



Strange figures emerged, gray-skinned, wrinkled, with bulbous black eyes, standing half the height of this world's former dwellers. Clad in cumbersome suits, they wielded devices that sent dog-sized silver machines scurrying across the barren land.



Had you understood the tongue of M32-145γ in Andromeda, you'd have heard their bewildered survey of this desolate sphere...



"Precursor civilization found?"



"Yes... layer upon layer, stratum after stratum. The most recent perished some nine hundred solar years past."



"Many layers? Yet no trace of nuclear or solar arrays? Surely they couldn't have been snuffed out each time before reaching the technological singularity?"



"Yet so it appears."



"Oh, how dreadful."



"Agreed. Dreadful indeed."



They scrambled back into their silver egg, pressed a sequence of buttons, and fled in haste.

References

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