|
|
 |
ortok from the Council of Five pondered. These days there was so much to reflect.
Should it be true. Smoothly the sun of the Datsonde smoldered.
The ancients were responsible. Latest excavations at Ceti Prime confirmed that. A single race. One struggle.
One thought that could change the universe. They must have been powerful. Their artefact testified that.
But still they failed and finally perished leaving their toys behind in the universe. Sophisticated
genetic engineering. Beings only created to please them. Toys draped with technological equipment of the ancients.
But why this aggressiveness? Why this persistent urge to become the best? Lot's of questions.
The only sure thing is that the universe have been slowly descending into chaos.
Certainly, some resisted the urge to fight but Gortok often remembered those days when he faced battles in the arena.
He thought of the great deal that has to be done while taking a view over the stormy lowlands of Noor.
The second sun almost had set and the first only needed 3 ticks before appearing at the horizon.
Millions of stars flashed at the firmament. Millions of stars with millions of beings. All eternally fighting.
This moment thousands died and this moment thousands were born.
In several millenniums many huge empires emerged, cultures flourished and many of them turned to dust again.
Only one thing seemed resistant and common to all. The urge to face heavy battles in the arena and finally becoming one of
the best.
Hardly one who didn't spend a major part of his life in the arena. Hardly one who had not been tempted
by the fame.
The rulers of all worlds are elected by their heavy struggle in regular cycles.
And this is were your path begins...
Soon more will be revealed about the past of the MicroMonsters here.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
 |
|
|