Chapter thirty five
“Humanity seems to have an irrational fear of the unknown and paranoia seems to be universal across their species. They fortify their planets before building anything else; they had built up huge war fleets even before they knew anything else was out there. Why? Humanity itself has been very tight-lipped about it.” – extract from “Human psychology – A Fear of the Unknown”
Heeheehee, my plans are taking shape. Humanity is developing nicely and have cemented their status as a galactic power. Their tech development is also developing well. I could’ve just given them all my tech, but that would’ve stymied their development and might’ve induced arrogance. By only giving them snippets and fragments, I have made them reverse engineer what tech I did give them and they have invented some things that even we Old Ones did not think of.
For example, we had always just thought of hard-light as a curiosity, something that could be used only in civilian roles. Humanity, however, used it to create temporary shields that would only block a single projectile, but could be made by the thousands by a single projector. They created bullets that would only exist for a set time, eliminating friendly fire. I looked upon their creations, their innovations, and felt pride. Our descendants were doing even better than we had at their age.
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They built towering spires and cavernous museums, cities of metal and light were constructed in mere days. They engaged in construction on a planetary scale, creating space stations the size of asteroids, and on a microscopic scale, creating nanobots that could cure any illness. They created works of art famous all over the galaxy, plays and novels that were the equal of another race could produce.
But underneath it all, the gears of war turned. I had told them of my history, of our history. I had told them of our glorious empire, one that spanned a thousand galaxies. I had told them of our fall, of the disaster that had ended us and so many other great empires. Finally, I told them of the present, of the dangers that awaited them. Just as I had survived, so too would’ve many others, others who too wanted to see the glory of their empires restored. I told them of how I would not, or indeed could not interfere in their wars unless their very existence was at stake. I told them, and as they listened, they learned. And as they learned, they thought.
We had thought of the universe as a sea, something that was cold, yes, but uncaring. We thought that the universe did not care for us, and we would only die if we were careless. One sinks if they fight the waves, not when they ride them.
They thought of it differently. They heard of our downfall and were angered. They thought of the universe as a malevolent being, one that wished to strike them down but was barely restrained from doing so. They were not content to ride the waves but wished to conquer them. They yelled their hate and defiance into the dark, declaring to the universe that they would not just sit down and accept their fate; they would fight, and they Would Not Fall.
Others might call it irrational paranoia. Many did. But humanity knew it was right, and I agreed. I had seen the truth, and I too hated.