Liberi Reader

Outside the porthole, a matrix of countless co-orbiting satellites glisten and glimmer. The final beacon of civilization before eternal night descends. Upon this lonely ark, scholars still speak of hope.

But even so, the stars are fading away. Nobody can change this fact.

And then, the dark tide arrives on schedule. A simple streak of spray, and the afterglow of this once glorious civilization is extinguished.

...Then comes a very long wait.

The scholar steps onto a road that leads into the unknown.

The scholar is unaccustomed to talking, perhaps because the accompanying machine is similarly silent. A poor conversation partner, all things considered.

The scholar maintains this silence when observing everything across this great land, occasionally jumping in joy thanks to some minor discoveries.

Sometimes, the scholar will habitually shout, shouting at the valleys, shouting at the snowfields, shouting until a seizing up of the throat.

Language has lost all meaning. There is nothing to communicate with here, so naturally there are no people who can understand such actions of despair.

This great land never responds to the scholar's passion. It lies there, as quiet as the universe.

But most of the time, the scholar simply looks up at the star-strewn sky in silence.

The scholar might be able to recite the names of every single visible star. It is clear that the star chart that was unable to be saved in AMa-10's storage module now resides within that erudite mind.

'Look at all these stars, dying and being born. Perhaps we can decipher the poetry of the universe from their rhythm.'

The scholar extends a finger, tracing every journey among the stars with her upon the dark canvas of night. A game to while away time.

But time too has lost all meaning.

...

And so, the scholar returns to that silent, rigid coffin.

The intricate machine halts by the side of the Sarcophagus. It requires some time to slowly process the scholar's parting words.

It waits, a wait as long as the last one, perhaps longer, until it finally believes the one reclining within the Sarcophagus will not awake within the 'short term'.

It thinks about the task the scholar left it.

And so, its only choice is to set off.

During its wait, Originium spread itself throughout every corner of the planet. What it sees is no longer familiar to it.

From the planet's south it leaves, heading northwards.

It wants to find traces of that meteor that brought hope.

Finally, at the furthest reaches of the land's north, it discovers signs of plant seeds being piled together.

Signs of life.

It was a day more than two thousand years after Oracle fell into slumber.

In a northern corner of the land, the newborn life upon this planet discovered something Oracle was never able to find...

Another Sarcophagus.

Here, the bird ends its unended journey. The only thing she can do is bury her long-time companion in the tundra, not far from the Sarcophagus.

She was unable to find another in its community she could communicate with, and without a timely warning, the flock did not survive the winter.

Yet another long, long, long span of time passes.

It is a tribe who has learned to wield spears that rediscover this relic.

These Ancients who found it considered it divine, kneeling before it in prayer day and night. But news of the relic spread quickly, attracting other tribes.

People treated this inscrutable artifact as something more precious than water. They argued with each other in languages the others did not understand. The conflict quickly turned deadly, resulting in a massacre.

The first tribe to discover the relic was the first to be driven away, barely a tenth of their number left to take the tribe's children somewhere far, far away.

The last tribe standing paid a bitter price as well. Before they could celebrate their victory, a plague born from the corpses strewn everywhere killed every single survivor.

None of this should have happened... but how was it supposed to be stopped?

Is this the civilization that should be protected?

Perhaps it is not that they are inferior, but that they cannot make rational choices based only on the knowledge they have.

Perhaps the only thing separating them from past glory is time. One should not yet conclude that this young civilization ought to be abandoned.

But why... does all of this feel so sorrowful?

Perhaps... try inscribing all knowledge related to the Sarcophagus on this cliff.

From the most basic of mathematics, to the laws governing the flow of energy through the universe... No, start with the most basic semiotics.

She wants to carve all these knowledge-laden characters onto the rocks.

Once more people discover this relic of the past, they will understand what they must do is study, not engage in meaningless murder.

...But this mountain is far too small.

Far, far too small, too small to contain so long a time.

She has no other choice but to take this heavy gift from the prior civilization, and bury it deep underground once more.

The king enters the coffin without the slightest hesitation.

Not long after, it reopens, and a creature with a pair of great wings flies out from within. The form that life took millennia ago.

The Elder, having gained its freedom, spirals through the sky, peering out over the land beneath its feet for a long, long time. Eventually, it lets out a resounding cry before charging through the clouds, never to be seen again.

The age-old wanderer lowers her head. A mirror-sheen lake reflects a sky full of stars, alongside a face speckled with hints of weariness.