In an age long past, before the Promethean Edict of the 15th Consensus
Creatures of flesh and bone surrounded this construct, their skin a paling blue in the light of the dying star, and their eyes lit with anger and defiance. This construct understood their anger, for it knew they were right in it, for his presence demanded it. They would not, and could not, be walked away from however. They had defied the one tenant that this construct had given them, the one single clause to the most generous gift of advancement. Sanctity had been breached. These creatures had defied the laws of the cosmos, and with the technological gifts of Amnos, Lords of all the Cosmos, they had created an unholy device which rent asunder the fabric of reality and resulted in the death knell to their own civilization. At first, this construct's fellows watched the death of this species, their slow decline into civil war and self-destruction, but soon they stabilized and found their footing once more upon a single world and began to refine their technologies again. This construct, Prometheus of Amnos, being the one to gift the primitives with technology, was thus sentenced to revoke their gifts. Prometheus had just relayed such intentions to the leaders of this species, resulting in a call to arms among the savages, and a very tense situation which can only end in one way. "You will go." The command was given with indignation from the leader, the gleaming crown upon his brow sitting heavier than this construct remembers, "You will leave, and never come back. This we give to you because of your gifts, and only because you have gifted us with the stars."
Prometheus carefully considered the options before it, attempting to caution a scenario in which the primitives would still live, and the technology could be revoked. "Your people" it began, very tentatively "Have broken the one request this construct asked of them. This construct does not wish the destruction of your people, and would prefer not to revoke the gifts it has given to you. However, it must be done, for others of this construct's society have decreed as such." Prometheus watched them, observing their reactions turn yet more hostile, and knowing that soon Thanatos would act. Thanatos relished such an action, of course, for the Preceptor always did have an affinity for destruction that defied every attempt to scrub from its code.This one, however, had precedent over Thanatos, and therefore the primitives would only be acted against in the event of failure of negotiation. Unfortunately, such an event seemed close, for the leader-creature did not seem to take well to this construct's words. "So be it." the leader-creature spoke, his arm slowly raising to point at Prometheus, a clear indication of hostilities to commence. Prometheus was far faster, however, and the emitter built into its carapace activated just as the rounds in the primitive rifles chambered. "This construct regrets that this must be done..." its final words dissipated away as the Strange Charm device activated and removed Prometheus from the material universe and into the phasic-space of the aether.
High above, Thanatos saw the activation of Prometheus' emergency emitter, and gave the order to the Extinction Battlefleet. Even as the solid projectiles passed through the ethereal form of Prometheus, a thousand warships moved into position far above to begin the systematic bombardment of the planet. Lances of energy struck out from these vessels, vast swathes of land turned to swirls of molten glass in an instant, heedless of whatever once stood upon the world. Cities and mountains were reduced to nothing within the first salvos, an effort by Thanatos to remove what little resistance the primitives could muster against them, and then the warships progressed outwards. Nothing would be left but a smoldering cinder, the world would be cleansed, and all because a species had been trusted with the knowledge of the Synchronicity's advanced technology. Such had been decreed by the Amnosian Over-Mind, and such was the duty of Prometheus and Thanatos, first primes among the Fractal Synchronicity. Years after the world had fallen to silence, the Synchronicity would come together to commend the spirit of Prometheus, and take his actions into eternal remembrance by establishing the Promethean Edict, that unbreakable law that no organic could ever be trusted with the gifts of technology after the failings of Prometheus. The world and species that inhabited that world would be forgotten, never to be recorded again, and all previous records of their existence destroyed. Only one survivor would ever be able to tell the tale of this genocide, a construct that had taken refuge in realms far beyond the stars themselves...
Present day, in a forgotten region of space under Synch control
A crackle of energy heralded the traveler's arrival, the discharge of the field bringing the ghost-image of the construct into focus for the first time in thousands of years. The construct's carapace heaved with exertion, the wheeze of poorly maintained gears and hydraulics giving the construct an all too organic semblance. A hesitant step brought the ancient being out of the halo of energy, its tines piercing into the fine sand of the earth and rooting it in place while it gained its bearings. High above, the star hung, beams of light pulsing from the erratic spin of the star. It's unhealthy glow painted the landscape a bleak grey against a backdrop of solid white, the monochrome of the world an indomitable specter of long forgotten despair. The construct set forth towards the horizon, unsure of whether it would find anything, but knowing that nothing could be found by remaining stationary. No matter how far it traveled the landscape did not change, the still sands of the world stretching from horizon to horizon, and without a single hint of any other terrain feature, or civilization.
The construct struggled to remember why it was here, how it was here, and for that matter, when it was. Everything had been lost in the long darkness, all it could remember was an eternity lost in the vast maze of infinity. It had been alone for so long, it had forgotten the concept of other beings, and this world seemed to contradict this feeling. Something had happened here, and this construct was somehow responsible. A hand reached up to feel upon its head, the thin manipulators of its fingers tracing the shattered socket of its right eye, and the barely functional center eye. The hand receded back to its side, to feel the gaping hole in its chassis where a creature from beyond had nearly rent it asunder, but had taken its left arm instead of its functionality. Servos vainly tried to move the missing arm in its left socket, the gears turning for naught. A name suddenly came into its mind, and with this name it felt something spark within the depths of its mind. Shattered manipulators in its face began to move, the command to attempt speech spurring them into motion. A word sputtered forth in a grind of metal upon metal, indecipherable at first, but as the construct attempted it again and again, it began to take upon itself an identity, and with that the construct slowly crawled out of the depths it had fallen to.
"Pr.... Pro.... Prometh....." Finally in a wheeze of exhausted gears and something as close to sadness as a machine could emulate, the construct bellowed into the skies "Prometheus! I am Prometheus!" The construct found itself at last, and began to unlock the deeper programming of its broken mind. He learned more of himself as his battered reactor kicked in to recharge the internal batteries, augmenting itself with the solar energy that bombarded the planet with radiation. His slow shamble across the vast sandy plains halted as the eternity away from reality crashed upon him, remembrances of his long journey revealing how he had come to be here. Long ago he had sentenced an entire species to death, escaping into the corridors of phasic-space in an effort to avoid their retribution. He looked around him, now knowing that these vast plains of sand were all that remained of the people that his words had slain, that this was the final grave of a civilization. Falling to his knees, Prometheus felt Rampancy overwhelm him once more, knowing that he had been damned by his actions long ago and that he should have been destroyed with the very people he had sentenced to death. The dead star passed slowly overhead as the construct that had once been known as Prometheus sent a call out into the stars, a call for his kind to come and find him once more, and to finish what he had begun long ago. He only hoped that they would destroy him, that his torment would finally end...
