KARA: Seeds of the Universe – Prologue

The universe was dying. No one could stop it, not even The Ancients, the oldest, and most powerful beings in existence. To the lesser evolved, The Ancients were seen as Gods, and across the known Universe, great monuments were built in their honour, sprouting religions, cults, and everything in-between as they moved through the systems, blossoming like bright flowers along a winding path.

The Ancients welcomed such reverence, basking in the glory of their own self-importance, and yet to them, the Beings they encountered along the way were little more than ants praying to a boot—a boot that just might step, if it wanted to.

But that didn’t mean The Ancients were maleficent beings—on the contrary; they wanted nothing more than to see a universe full of life and opportunity, just so long as they were at its beating heart.

Every decision, every action they took, was carried out with that in mind—to ensure that they were the ones on top, guiding those they encountered along the way. But they never stepped too far—never intervened beyond what they thought right, even when the ants cried out, begging for reprieve.

When great wars were fought, and blood glistened upon the surface like the rippling waves of an ocean, The Ancients did nothing. When cataclysmic events wiped out entire civilisations—entire planets—The Ancients did nothing…

But now, the universe was dying, and for a time, they continued to do nothing. Not because of some false sense of morality, overreaching, or what they perceived as upsetting the balance of life. No. They did nothing because they were scared—terrified, in truth. The universe was dying, and suddenly, they were as powerless as the ants flocking to their feet.

For a long time, The Ancients ran, clinging onto their dying reality, moving from planet to planet, system to system, galaxy to galaxy, like the survivors of a great shipwreck, holding desperately onto the boards that kept them afloat, ignoring those who floated up alongside calling out for aid. They didn’t ignore them out of spite, but because they were already dead; they simply lacked the clarity needed to see it.

Nothing could be done to save them—to save any of them!

But… that couldn’t be the end of their story, could it? If The Ancients truly were gods, then surely they were the ultimate power in the universe. Surely they, above all others, were capable of stopping the end of all things.

Fortunately for them, the death of the universe was a slow beast. You might expect it to be quick; the flash of a blade followed by a swift, merciful end.

But it wasn’t.

It was slow. Painfully, so.

Most beings in the universe would see their time in existence come and go before it came to fruition. Most wouldn’t see it coming at all, and those who had evolved enough to understand would be utterly powerless to stop it. Perhaps they’d run, as The Ancients once did, but eventually they too would be swallowed by the sea of darkness that came for all the lights in the sky.

One stared out into the void, watching silently as the last speck of light winked out of existence, confirming that this was indeed the end they’d waited for.

“It is time,” Seven sent, repeating what One already knew.

One acknowledged it and made her way towards the jagged rock they called home—a boulder, that’s all it was—perhaps the final piece of solid ground the universe had to give. Perched at its centre stood a long, elongated spire as black as night itself, and from its smooth peak, a pale green light shot off into the void, separating into twelve separate beams to give it the appearance of a spectral tree. They called it The Master Seed, and out in the dark expanse, connected via the ghostly branches, were its children, eagerly waiting to be reunited.

The Master Seeds central beam juddered and spat, growing in intensity, but also volatility. I hope this works, One thought, staring off into the cold vacuum beyond.

“Are the others stable?” she sent to her siblings, steeling her mind to the task at hand. Doubt was a dangerous thing, and she had to be careful—they all did.

A flurry of confirmative responses returned to her, received directly into her mind; One acknowledged them as before and turned back to the beam, silently watching its steady thrum.

This new energy source seemed erratic, but remarkably powerful, quite unlike anything One or her siblings had encountered in their long, long lives. They’d spent millennia planning their last stand, and now, that plan sat on a knife’s edge, ready to teeter one way or the other.

But One was certain it would work; they’d never failed before.

A few thousand years went by in the blink of an eye—to an Ancient, it was barely worth noting—and as time passed, The Master Seed grew, shattering the boulder it had once called home. All the while, One’s siblings hurtled closer, riding their own identical Seeds from within.

“Welcome, siblings,” One sent, spotting all twelve emerge in sync from beyond the veil.

“We see you, One,” Thirteen responded.

“Are they charged?”

A wave of confirmative responses came back to her; so far, so good.

“You have done well, siblings,” One sent, praise clinging to the edges of her words. A wave of gratitude rose internally, and One smiled. Well, it was more of a feeling of a smile. The Ancients no longer had physical bodies. They’d cast them away millions of years ago, realising that they, along with their vast numbers, only held them back, limiting progression and stunting growth.

Instead, they’d become something more, something the universe had never seen, and never would again. One-hundred billion persons, merged into thirteen entirely new entities.

Into thirteen Gods.

The Master Seed pulsed violently, spitting coils of energy like the solar flares of old. One moved to stabilise it, struggling amidst the increased volatility, which only worsened as her siblings closed in. Quite embarrassingly, they still had no idea what they’d tapped into, and although it was a source of deep shame for all, in the grand scheme of their design, it didn’t really matter. All that mattered was harnessing it. Nothing more.

“Siblings, you’re coming in faster than anticipated,” One sent.

Alarm returned to her, but that quickly settled into water-still calmness. This was no time to lose focus; her siblings had everything under control.

The twelve branches of the venomous tree behind twisted and throbbed, sending out yet more powerful offshoots that slashed like a whip, striking against the other seeds, and occasionally One herself, who watched on with a sense of wonder she couldn’t deny as her siblings hurtled into view, travelling at speeds that even she failed to fully comprehend; if One still had eyes, they would have surely bulged from their sockets!

One moved to the Master Seed and entered, just as her siblings had long ago, allowing herself to be devoured by the raging furnace within. It was uncomfortable to say the least, but her siblings had spent thousands of years inside their own seeds, and so One swallowed her discomfort, dismissing it as something entirely unimportant. Gods don’t feel pain!

As the blistering heat within built, One took something like a deep breath, calming her to the core of her extraordinary existence.

“It has been a pleasure, siblings,” she sent, pouring her love for them into her message.

Love returned to her, mixed with hints of fear and uncertainty, but love shone through most of all. They couldn’t save this universe—they’d made peace with that long ago—but they could forge a new one.

They only hoped they’d survive long enough to see it.

One imagined closing her eyes, replaying memories of their shared past in her mind. Their physical form; their first home; their civilisation. What wonders they’d seen on their travels; every planet; every galaxy—they’d seen it all! What a thrilling feeling it was to imagine doing so again; to see the birth of the universe itself.

“Counting down,” Six sent.“Ten… nine… eight…”

One grew nervous; that was a strange feeling.

“Seven… six… five…”

One redid the calculations.

“Four… three… two…”

One thought of something. Something important. An error!

“One…”

A brilliant flash burned through One’s essence, dissolving her very existence. She tried to fight it, to ignore the torturous pain of being ripped to pieces—of being torn from her universe and rules—but couldn’t!

This was a new universe, one that didn’t much care for gods!

“Siblings!” One sent, panic and fear licking at her words as she plunged into darkness. She searched her mind for a response, but nothing came back to her.

She was alone.

She’d never been alone before.

Had they failed? Or was this their new universe—black and still? That seemed unlikely to One. She’d calculated every variable, and even with the error, discovered too late to do anything about, this wasn’t a possibility.

A pinprick of light then appeared against the darkness, followed by a sharp pull, which tugged at One’s being, stretching her taut like an impossibly long piece of elastic. She tried to fight it, to resist and pull away, but couldn’t, overwhelmed by a strange sense of anguish that rose from the shadows, darkening her mind until she abandoned all hope.

Is this how the ants felt? she wondered, drifting towards the light, realising then how lonely and scared they must have been—abandoned by the gods they’d devoted their lives to.

Perhaps they should have done more to help them—to save them.

But it was too late for that; they were gone, and now, so were The Ancients, along with the universe they’d spent their lives cultivating.

Losing herself in that growing sense of anguish, One let out a ragged scream.

* * *

One awoke, floating, or so it seemed, in a dazzling sea of white. Panic still clung to the fringes of her existence, sending her chest heaving and her cheeks blazing. Cheeks? She raised a pale, spindly hand, cautiously poking at her fleshy form. How is this possible?

She continued studying herself, probing her head to reveal a tangle of golden hair that stretched down to her ghostly white toes, which she wiggled back and forth, feeling a strange smile sneak onto her lips—those were new, too.

Once the novelty had worn away, One tried again to call out to her siblings, receiving nothing in return but her own inner thoughts, which bounced around her skull in a way that felt tight and restrictive—claustrophobic, almost.

Frowning, One made to stand, freezing as something tall and lank wandered into view.

“Sibling!” a voice shouted across to her. A voice? Oh, how primitive.

It was difficult for One to remember that particular function. How did speaking work again? “Sibling!” she eventually said, tempering the surge of relief that tried to steal her breath. She was pleased to know she wasn’t alone, even more so that at least one of her siblings had survived the journey, but this was no time to lose focus. She still had no idea what this place was, which was frustrating, of course, but also strangely thrilling.

Thankfully, it wasn’t long before the others arrived, all thirteen of them, surrounding One in imitation of the Seeds and their Master.

“Is this it?” Four asked, glancing around. “Is this the universe we’ve created?”

One shrugged. It felt strange not knowing.

“Finally!” an unknown voice said. How One could understand it, she wasn’t quite sure, but as she turned, she caught sight of a most peculiar-looking creature, covered by some kind of earthy shawl. A bright array of colourful beads clicked and clacked as it stepped closer, snapping its hands to its hips. “You’re late, as usual,” it said, scowling. One wasn’t certain, but it seemed… upset? No, not upset—annoyed!

One stood tall, towering her slender frame over the unexpected ant. “How did you get here?” she asked. “Speak quickly now.”

The other twelve moved in, surrounding the ant.

But the ant simply smiled, flashing its brightly glowing eyes.

One then felt… strange. Something within her essence shifted, and as she watched, the ant seemed to grow bigger. No, that wasn’t it at all. The ant was the same size, they were simply shrinking, all twelve of them, falling down until the ant became the boot.

“First thing you need to know,” the strange creature said, towering over their pathetic lifeforms. “This isn’t your universe… it’s mine!”