Quite how Ketsuban decided in the final thirty seconds of existance to travel into Old Robloxian Past was beyond anybody's mental capacity. However... he did, yes.

"Everybody needs to sid down, first," Ketsuban said as shock juddered the ship. With some fear and whimpers, everybody sat on the cool, shiny floor.

"Now..." Ketsuban wracked his brain. A doomed piece of siding flew off of the broken wing, but no one needed it. "Turn off the lights and all the viewing screens, and start humming. NOW!" Grean obligingly turned off the lights, and Blackrose used her XLR to blast out the sceens lined along the dashboard.

There was only humming, as the four sat, their heads bowed, their bodies upright, as if in meditation.

A whistle, an intake of breath. Grean felt as though he was flying at greater speeds than when he fell over Tan With Moons. He heard Blackrose gasp as the feeling of brain-squeezing height took hold. There was also the sound of a random chicken clucking.

The inertia stopped. Grean opened his eyes. For a minute he wondered if he had. The land in front of him was completely blank. The flat, flat ground stretched on seemingly forever.

"Where is everything?," Grean asked to Blackrose. Then, "Ketsuban? Max?" The two were gone.

Blackrose straightened from her station on the ground.

"This is Old Robloxia?," she asked.

"I think we're a wee bit early," said Grean.

"And... approximately HOW early?," Blackrose asked, putting a bit of stress on the word HOW.

"I suppose this is where the first users start to appear." Blackrose gasped.

"You mean to tell me that we're at the very dawn of the ROBLOX Universe?," she said incredulously.

"Probably not the very dawn, but close," Grean said, looking around. A brick had just been laid. The layer was invisible because of distance and the fact that it was not rendered yet, but Grean could tell who it was.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, Builderman materialized out of the fog of time. He was a bit shorter than the present-day Builderman, a little bit more fat and red-faced, but still the same Builderman that would one day launch the founding of groups and set off this entire fiasco, all over again. When he saw the two travelers, he gave a little yelp of surprise. "Who are you," he asked innocently.

"I'm Grean Overseer," Grean replied, holding out a hand. Builderman took it hesitantly and shook it, slowly at first, then gradually gaining more confidence.

"I'm Builderman," Builderman said warily. "Who's your friend?"

"My name is Blackrose O'Neol," Blackrose said cheerfully, stooping down and actually hugging the little creator. Builderman stiffened.

"What are you building, Builderman?," Blackrose asked sweetly, like a daycare lady who had just caught you doing something revolutionary in the restroom.

"It's a house..." He scratched his neck embarrasedly. "I hope it's okay."

"It looks great, Builderman," Grean said. "Once you've gotten up about four more walls then you'll be fine." Builderman flushed bright pink.

"Thank you," he bubbled. With lightning speed he assembled a wall and tilted it up so it was vertical. Using his insert tool, clutched in his chubby hand, he set about meticulously building the other three.

"Can you keep a very close secret?," Grean asked, determined to get a response.

"I... guess."

"We're from the future." Builderman let a whole wall collapse in and turned, speechless, to Grean.

"You... what?," he said, sweat pouring down his face.

"I said, we're from the future," Grean enunciated, slowly and carefully. "Blackrose, too. We're both from 2012." Builderman appeared to be trying to say something. Blackrose motioned that he could do so, and he burst out:

"Is ROBLOX still good? I mean, not full of bad people?"

Grean shook his head. "No, it isn't good." He saw tears come up in the pudgy man's eyes, trickling down his cheeks to rest on his nose. "But, we're trying to fix it," Grean added. "We've already gotten rid of F.E.A.R., First Encounter Assault Recon, and a bunch of mindless brutes, too, so that helps." The tears ceased gushing, but there were still little hiccups coming from the creator.

The server started to fill up, slowly. Blackrose cried out as a user materialized right beside her, but the user did not attack, but walked up to Builderman and Grean.

"Hi," he said, coolly. When he saw the form of Builderman he draped an arm over his shoulder. "Come on, we're not all savages. Come over here and cool off."

Builderman, the stranger, Grean, and Blackrose sat beside the server entrance and watched as people slowly came in, dropping, the shield around them fading as the time they were in the server increased. And along came night. There were no stars out, just a single, pale moon. How much the people would create, Grean thought as Blackrose snuggled into his shoulder.

And so, sleep came to ROBLOX.