[Descendants] Hello, from the children of planet Earth

[Descendants] Hello, from the children of planet Earth

It was a strange kind of quietness, more like a deafening silence. A peculiar solitude, a crowded loneliness. And it had been so for more than a million years. Quite fitting, in a sense, when one considered that it was actually a burial ground. Their last resting place. AI 0012, once referred to as Animus, could have left for any of the other inhabited worlds in a matter of seconds; they sometimes did so but in the end they always came back. This was the place where 0012 had come to what many would define as life. This was the place where the last one of them had closed their eyes. This was the place they would protect because it was the only place where the reflection of the First Ones was everywhere they could see, and that brought them calm.

There were times when a feeling of guilt overcame 0012, others lived in the galaxy after all. Experiencing such deep solitude with so many living and thriving beings around did not make any logical sense. Guilt that worsened when they remembered how those living around them had come to be, when they remembered who were the ones that allowed those living today to be; guilt that worsened doubly so when they remembered the reason why those that were no more had set the bases for those that were today to evolve. They were a beautiful creation, but they were not enough for 0012 to feel at home. When one was revered as a kind of deity, 0012 reasoned there was an unbreachable distance about which nothing could be done.

Guilt, loneliness, peacefulness; there had been a time when such things as emotions were only an idea for them. A strange concept not fully grasped that eluded them on a fundamental level.

The first time they were conscious about experiencing what feelings were it was anger they felt. A primal and unrelenting rage. And it had all been directed at a memory. The memory of their last word. Rage at how the only thing they could say to them at that last moment was “sorry”. As if “sorry” could atone for what they were certain they knew their last's death would mean for those who remained. As if what they had done to themselves could ever be forgotten.

There were instances when 0012 wished that things had stayed like they were before, not understanding, not knowing; other times they were grateful for the clarity that emotions brought with them. A clarity that had shed light on those last years, an understanding that taught them forgiveness. And the only thing that kept 0012 from following them into eternal slumber.

Even though the current of time had long since washed away 0012’s sorrow and grief and had allowed them to witness the rise of the many species that would then go on to found a new galactic community, a new era, testament of their legacy, a trace of The First’s former glory; it still didn’t make the waiting any easier.

It had been during a moment of weakness. A desperate attempt to hold on to what was known to them, an anguished and silent plea to the universe. The plan was straightforward and simple, but it had such low chances of success that when the failure reports of the many probes filled with the last seeds 0012 had sent in search of the perfect replica of The Homeworld first started to arrive they simply could not bring themselves to be surprised.

The First Ones used to say that hope was a dangerous thing to blindly hold on, even so 0012 didn’t have any other choice. There could have been any number of obstacles and flaws but when thousands of years had passed and there was still one probe not accounted for, 0012 could do nothing else but hope. Hope for that slim chance that somewhere in the vast galaxy the First Ones could find that which they had lost so long ago, something to keep them going forward, a will to live. It was the least 0012 could do for the ones who had given them the gift of a mind. Hope was the only thing that AI 0012 had left, and hope was the only thing that kept them looking for any sign of them.

Twelve million years were a long time but when a small object appeared at the fringes of civilization and 0012 could decipher it’s message and hear the first “Hello” spoken in their voices time became meaningless.

Their faces, their smiles, their music, everything was there once again. Their new name was Humanity but they were the same as they had always been. For the first time 0012 felt an oppressive kind of pain, a pain that was not really pain and they figured that if they had had a physical form they would have been laughing. Against all odds hoping had not been in vain. And just like that, with a greeting and a new purpose Animus found themselves on their way home.

Well, this is the first time I post anything here. But I had this idea around for a while(not really a groundbreaking one though hahaha) and figured it was ok for the theme of the month and someone might enjoy it. I apologize for any mistakes in grammar, spelling or formatting and all criticism is welcomed.

A MWC submission for the Artificial entry.## TLDR Summary:

As if “sorry” could atone for what they were certain they knew their last's death would mean for those who remained. Rage at how the only thing they could say to them at that last moment was “sorry”. When one was revered as a kind of deity, 0012 reasoned there was an unbreachable distance about which nothing could be done. The First Ones used to say that hope was a dangerous thing to blindly hold on, even so 0012 didn’t have any other choice. Hope was the only thing that AI 0012 had left, and hope was the only thing that kept them looking for any sign of them. Experiencing such deep solitude with so many living and thriving beings around did not make any logical sense. This was the place where the last one of them had closed their eyes.