Humanity stands at the intersection of three pillars: religion, science, and myth—a triangle shaped by the search for answers to life’s great mysteries. Faced with the unknown, humans create simple explanations, giving rise to religion. These “gods” become the solutions to questions we cannot yet answer.

But over time, humanity learns. Slowly, painstakingly, knowledge grows, and from it emerges science—the pursuit of hard facts and indisputable truths about the world. With each discovery, the old ways of religion begin to fade, transforming into myth.

But myth does not simply vanish. Instead, it transforms into legend, fable, and story—histories wrapped in lessons and morals. These tales serve to guide the young and remind us of the pitfalls of those who came before, urging humanity not to repeat their mistakes. Myths become vessels of wisdom, even as their divine origins fade, holding a mirror to human nature and the timeless struggles we face.

Yet, history shows us that the easy answer—the comforting, convenient one—is always the most alluring. Those who preach such simplicity often gain power, using it to obscure facts and suppress truth. Gradually, myth resurfaces as religion, and the cycle begins anew.

Through it all, the one unwavering faith humanity holds is not in gods or science but in the belief that it cannot be wrong. That its understanding is absolute. That mankind is the apex of all things. And it is this unshakable conviction that will, in the end, be its downfall.

-Alexander Salvos

The last philosopher

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Prologue

“What’s this planet called again, Gursaki’l?”

The speaker stood over seven feet tall, a towering humanoid with gray skin and an oversized head. His sleek metallic suit shimmered under the sterile bridge lights of his cruiser-class starship.

“Sir, this is planet 437 of sector 9B, also known as Earth,” responded another alien, this one covered in thick fur, its large round eyes blinking as it rattled off the information.

Hawlythron sighed, exasperation dripping from every breath. “Fantastic. Another backwater shithole in the ass-end of nowhere.” The translation into Earth English might not have been exact, but the sentiment was clear.

His father had secured him this position—Galaxy Onboarding Director for this dustball of a world. A title meant to sound impressive, far more so than the drudgery of a Galaxy Onboarding Data Supervisor or, even worse, one of the countless Global Onboarding Data Scientists. Hawlythron needed someone to do the grunt work of sifting through millions of lines of code, he sure wasn’t going to do it..

The cruiser carried a small crew, just enough for this kind of mission. It wasn’t a warship—just another cog in the endless bureaucracy of galactic expansion. Their task was simple: integrate another primitive world, strip it for useful resources, and, if they were lucky, find a few half-decent recruits to bolster the ever-draining ranks fighting on the Fringe. The war against the abyssal hordes never seemed to end.

Not that Hawlythron had ever seen it. He hailed from the Core Worlds, a life of wealth and comfort far removed from the blood-soaked battlefields at the galaxy’s edge. His job wasn’t to fight—it was to evaluate. To sift through the crude, unrefined muck of this world, aptly named after dirt, and see if there were any diamonds hidden within.

After all, as a G.O.D., his role was to sift through the dregs of this planet and find warriors and workers to feed the war machine. That was his father’s mandate—his so-called duty.

And he would fulfill it. Or he wouldn’t. Either way, it made little difference to him.