After The Omen, after the Broken Mask wars, after the Transcendant wars and after the brutalizing push for space Terra entered an era of optimism that persists in the modern day and colors their architecture, civilian and military, as well as how new vehicles are made. Relying still on the tried, tested and true strength of arm with some mechanical assistance technology had taken on aspects of the magic that permeated the omniverse putting it to use in ways that mundane science couldn't do or otherwise found difficult.

The industrious, harsh sharp angles of the pragmatism met the geometric, beautiful angles of the optimistic in Terran art. Smooth lines sat atop superstructures of sheer angles and broad faces, color mixed with gun-metal grey and the lights of optimism were tempered, mingled with the bleakness of pragmatism.

These two thoughts of art were just that: Two thoughts. Two ways out of impossibly many, but they were the ones chosen to represent the face of the Terrans when they began to push outward. Into the blackness of space, the big empty, full of wonder and terror, fear and hope, everything and nothing.

With tears wetting the eyes of even the most grizzled, hardened veteran of the wars and descendents of those whom had passed they pressed into that expanse and began to settle with the feet of excited Terrans hitting dirt and hands ready and ecstatic to make the new planets their homes.

Frontiersmen they were called as they explored the terraformed expanses of numerous planets and fought against the creatures that had managed to sneak in through the veil and put down hostile native fauna and in odd cases, flora. Fauna, flora, eachother if need be, expanses of land were settled and entire clans of people fought to defend their piece as they set off the beacons that would mark the timer. Whoever could hold the land would legally own it and be named the holders of said land.

Once territory was claimed and ready the land would be developed and ready for further population. First on the list was sealing any holes, tears, slips or rifts in the veil between worlds. Important to keep a population from being swallowed up by whatever horror awaits them beyond.

The veil was particularly sensitive in areas where ley lines connected, being centers of power and amplifiers in some ways making the veil fluctuate and wobble, eventually tearing in areas and giving way to creatures, people, and other things to leak through. In controlled amounts, these do little harm to most communities but everything in moderation.

The Alliance of Terra stocked all ships with drones, packed with information about their home nations and the Alliance itself. A hope, no matter how large or small, that they may meet someone else. Someone in their realm. Someone they could share a space with.

A hope, a glimmer of hope, that someone would chime in and say "Hello." A prayer, a hope, answered. Just not how they wish.


A/N:

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Let me pause my nervous screaming real fast and say: Welcome to the prologue! So what we've got here if you're not familiar with the previous version of Visions is a Dieselpunk science fantasy universe that is mingling with the Mass Effect universe in a number of ways. Mostly violently, with a lot of screaming and mentions of clowns in sewers. Things go bump in the night, magic is very real, and shit's spoopy but it's also very violent when it gets going.

There will be supernatural creatures, magic, etc. in this story. If ya don't like that, this story isn't gonna be your cup of joe. If it is, I pray you enjoy!