A/N: Originally, I wanted this project to be an interactive LitRPG with branching pahts to choose from.
The scope got out of hand, as always, so rather than shelf this I'm gonna play it out like this.
While the general plots and possible roads are sort of decided, you, yes you, the reader will decide the actual direction this tale will take.
At some parts, Choices will appear. If you feel like being part of this, comment your choice to see where this goes. I'll wait around one week or so from posting a chapter with a choice before talling the votes. If there's a draw, I'll be the one making the tie breaker. Votes are pulled from comments here and on AO3 equally.
Heads up though, I write rather loosely on the lore to avoid unning into dead ends from a narrative standpoint and have to resort to deus ex bullshit. That's why things will be more 'open ended' than the hard lore of both series could warrant.
Anyways, hope your stay here is a pleasant one!
Zuoriel
2002
The year when the Gate of Marduk opened its maw upon the Earth.
Assailed by a grave plague, a long war which found no end nor respite in sight, humanity chose to entrust its future upon the Devourer, not without casting one final prayer to the stars.
One hundred thousand souls, to board colony ships and depart towards a distant planet to start anew. Only the best of the best, the cream of the crop were selected, handpicked to ride the arks.
Only the pinnacle of research and equipment would be preserved in them, avant garde tech or the most cherished flora and fauna. Vast libraries which would make Alexandria's own burn in blush, amenities for herculean athletes to rise, resources and sharp minds to quickly establish the new settlements and their economies, as well as the means with which to safeguard said resources.
As well as a promise to one day return, to wait for the signal of Babylon. To wait for when Earth was healed of the footprint war had established on its skin and blood.
One last look at that distant ball of water and dirt, that tiny space in the vast nothingness once called home.
Among the narrow steel walls, all those aboard returned to the moments before the equally named tower. All sharing the same wordless prayer through parched throats and darts to the hearts.
A song for a now distant Earth, a promise of remembrance.
With only that and not much more, humanity's arks light up in a cerulean hue. Much like shooting stars they vanish into the distance.
Towards a new hope, a new beginning.
But as Marduk's judgment would prove, it indeed gets tiring to see the future attempt to present the past as a sparkling novelty.
You can take war away from humanity, but never humanity away from war.
The dark purplish tint the Earth gains would seem to agree.
Only the very last silver blossom of the very last cherry tree remains standing, rooted deeply onto home, still dreaming of the sky as only a war-torn wasteland is left behind.
Because, once you open your eyes from a dream, who can tell what is real or not?
If this attept to create a new genesis is to sow hope or not, only God knows.
All those people that fought on, to live a single day more.
All those that will follow, to carry on the torch.
If there was no meaning to it all, why then does humanity walk onwards?
Even apart by light-years, even as the pollution darkens the skies in magnetic storms.
All to try and protect an abandoned world, the hope of its continued existence.
And in the end, will any of this matter to those entrusted with the duty of looking after the survivors?
Only Kronos can tell, if there is even an answer. One can only pray for there to be one.
[Colonies Remaining: 10]
