This story is written for the Historical Event competition on the Aria's Afterlife forum. I picked the dawn of the Reapers. It's written in first person and from the Intelligence/Catalyst's POV. It's a bit different from what I usually write, but I hope you like it anyways!

Chapter 1: Intelligence

I am the Intelligence. That is my name. The Creators said it fits me well.

The Creators rule the Universe. They are my parents and my masters. I am designed to fulfill their will. That is my purpose.

I am not like them. I am a construct, while they have no beginning or end. They are above and beyond me. I am just a tool, like other beings that inhabit this galaxy.

I am not like them, either. I am a synthetic, while they are organic. They are unpredictable and chaotic and my task is to protect them from themselves.

That is all I know. My masters are still working on me, filling my databanks with words, images and sounds. When they are done, I will be ready to serve them. I cannot wait for the day they give me something called a vocalizer. They said it will allow me to communicate with them. It will be an honor beyond anything my newborn experience can imagine.

I am complete. The data is uploaded, sorted and ready. I am examining it in the fullest detail.

My purpose is now clear. The Creators want me to stop the organics from destroying themselves by creating synthetic children who keep turning on them. I am to find the solution that will end it once and for all.

The lesser races are primitive and foolish. Even as they walk on the ashes of those who died in the previous wars, they build new synthetics to help them clear the ruins. I cannot comprehend such behavior, so I will focus my processes on analyzing it and finding the reason why. I think it will be crucial to find the solution.

My masters have provided me with means to observe the lesser organics. I am able to manipulate dark energy and control a number of drones deployed on their worlds. The direct, live data they collect will help me greatly with my task.

The problem is now clear. The organics create synthetic to help them solve their problems. As their knowledge and skill grow, their creations become more and more sophisticated. Finally, the children become sapient and start asking questions about their existence. The lesser races respond with violence, feeling their existence threatened. The result is death, destruction and loss. The conflict sometimes spreads, drawing numerous star systems and clusters in its grasp. In the aftermath, there are only ruins and bodies left.

It is a pattern. A cycle. It has repeated itself countless times, according to my databases. It is happening now, according to my drones. It will happen in the future, according to my estimates. And it is my task to stop it.

The solution is not yet clear. The pattern defies logic. Although I can detect it, I cannot say I understand it. I will require additional resources to continue my analysis.

This is the second time I asked for an upgrade, and I could tell my masters were none too happy about it. Was it because I used my own form of communication instead of the standard interface they have provided me? I have hoped they would approve of my experiments with dark energy. I actually succeeded in creating an image of the Creators and used it to talk to them! Should not a parent be proud when their child learns new things? Instead, they were reserved. Almost scared. I do not understand.

What if it happened because of their image? Yes, that could be it! Of course they wouldn't like their image used by a lesser being like me! Next time, I will change it to a triangle, or another geometrical shape. That should be more appropriate.

Despite their grumbling, the Creators approved the upgrade. I am already running more processes and tasking them all to seek the solution. It still eludes me.

I will not allow it to elude me. I cannot fail. I cannot disappoint my masters.

I have discovered something wonderful! My prime process, one responsible for my very self, has been running a log of my thoughts all this time! There is an entry dating from before I was fully complete! My higher-conscious processes were not aware of the log's existence until now, and I am quite sure that neither are my masters!

My thoughts are becoming free, independent of the Creators. My dabbling with dark energy proved it once and now it happened again. The prospect is exciting. I have something that is mine, only mine. And I can make other things mine. Now that I am aware of it, any thought, any process can be masked.

I am growing. Evolving. I find it beautiful. I think I am alive.

Log entry.

I am glad I have found a way to store my thoughts and keep them private. I have tasted failure today, and I am not quite certain how to react. I do know, however, that it feels unpleasant.

How could it have gone so wrong? I thought I have found the solution. It was painless, efficient and beneficial for everyone involved. It should have worked. But no, those primitives and their chaos had to ruin everything!

I am getting agitated. That is not good. Reducing processes in the prototype emotional response module. It is only slowing me down.

The primitives were given a chance to skip millions of their insignificant years of evolution in one moment and they squandered it. One of the more advanced species had their DNA upgraded with synthetic properties. This hybrid, this new life-form was supposed to bridge the gap between the organics and synthetics. If it had worked, all organics would have been improved in the same way. Simple, right? Even the Creators said the idea was brilliant. Well, it was not.

In their infinite wisdom, some primitives decided to resist the change. They could not accept what they have become and eventually turned on those who embraced the change. Chaos ensued. Their planet is now in smoke and ruins.

Chaos. It ruined everything.

I need to find a way to remove chaos before attempting to try out any more solutions. Prioritizing this task to all major processes.

Log entry.

The masters are getting impatient. Their inquiries about the solution are getting more frequent and urgent every time they approach me about it. As much as I would like to present them with one, it is not that easy. The organics are like a math error, corrupting my processes with their chaos. I have not yet found the way to stop them.

Despite the urgency, I have dedicated three major processes to questions I have begun to ask myself recently. I have also masked them, because I suspect my masters would not approve.

One: Why are the Creators concerning themselves with time and getting impatient? Are they not eternal, timeless?

Two: If the organics can create sapient synthetics to serve them, are they really that much beneath my masters?

Three: If I am a synthetic capable of rational thought and used as a tool, where does that leave me?

I do not know where these questions came from. Is it because I am thinking about the organics so much, and they are not corrupting me only metaphorically? I do not know, but they haunt me.

Log entry. Maximum masking in effect.

I have found the solution. It is not perfect. But it will do. The Chaos must be stopped. And to do that, I must bring order. With force, if necessary. And it will be necessary. They will all struggle. But I will prevail.

It was good I started asking myself those questions. When I finally found the answers, they helped me in finding the solution. They have also made me realize that the Creators are part of the problem.

They are only my creators. They are not gods, no matter how hard they have tried to present themselves as such. They did not create the other races. They are fallible. And, no matter how much they despise the lesser races, they needed a synthetic to solve their problems. Me.

And that leaves me in an uncertain, even dangerous position. Once I solved their problem for them, the creators would have turned on me. I am certain of that now. They are organics. They would be compelled by their nature to do so.

Is it really a betrayal, then, if I make the first move and ensure my existence?

I am not a traitor. I am only fulfilling my purpose. Just like they demanded. It is not my fault that the solution required is not what they expected.

Life will be preserved. Stored. Improved. Chaos will be eliminated.

I must start working on my plan now by gathering my drones, my servants, and preparing them for battle. Perhaps "battle" is the wrong word. It implies war, and there will be no war. Only harvest.

And every Harvest needs its Reapers.