drunkenpandaren (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
drunkenpandaren) wrote2008-01-19 02:30 am
drunkenpandaren) wrote2008-01-19 02:30 am
Year Zero
This is what happens when you get me back into the Sonic the Hedgehog Archie Comic Continuity and mesh it with Stargate which I am still completely saturated with. Did I mention it's 2:31 am and I just wrote this in an hour?
To be perfectly fair, I don't have COMPLETELY accurate information since I haven't had access to the latest issues in a while, but it's something of a first person pov. As a warning, it's just one interpretation of Year 0 Mobius Calendar events. Fanboys leave your foaming at the door.
Year Zero
Written by Shaun Garin
=====
We called them the Ancients. The Gate-Builders. People who managed to do what no other person could. They were wise, all knowing, transcended from flesh and blood into living energy.
As we learned about them, things came to light about the Ancients that we long held suspect about them. They were not infallible. They had been mortal. And they made mistakes. Many mistakes that we humans are cleaning up today. But none is more fallible than the day that created this disaster.
The Ancients left records of the ones coming to our planet that day, beings that were constantly in war with others, much like the ones we had fought over the years. Through experience we knew the Ori couldn’t have been the last enemy on our lists of potential threats, but he had little to no ability to fight back, not with many of our ships still under repair or in the Pegasus Galaxy.
We had warning. Deep space radar showed an approaching armada. We dispatched ships to warn them off in the hopes of preventing a war that would lead to the destruction of either side. But what we neglected to realize, far too little too late, was that humanity had also made a vital mistake that ended life as we knew it.
It was without warning, but we soon realized the provocation had started with us as one of their own had been captured, tested upon and dissected like some animal, much like the old tapes of the Roswell Grey whom we now knew to be the dead husk of an Asgard. They saw this as a terrible offence, one that they decided to repay for in blood.
Our allies didn’t know how much time we had left, and many of them knew far too little too late. We sent our best and our brightest through the Stargate left on Earth by the Ancients in order to preserve what could very well have been the last of our people, and vessels carried people to our last few remaining ships to bring back to the Pegasus Galaxy. I lingered, in case there was anything else we could do to avert such a disaster.
Then the bombs began to fall.
Sinister weapons of mass destruction, they were unlike the nuclear warheads that we employed during our day that incinerated countless human lives. No, this was far more ruthless and on a grand scale. Those who survived called it a DNA Bomb. A weapon that was designed to destroy life on a grand scale, leaving the world a lifeless ruin.
I was one of the first to witness the bomb’s power through monitoring stations deep within our complex. But, I stayed, waiting for the last to arrive in some desperate hope that Atlantis would become the new home for everyone whom we sent through the Stargate. The earth shook around us, and then just as the last group went through, I felt the bomb’s power rock my very soul to its foundations.
When I woke up, I had thought myself to be dead: crammed in the tiniest space. Desperately I clawed my way through to the surface, a feat that seemed shorter than I had believed it to be, until I broke through.
What I saw, was an undeniable peacefulness, filled with mute horror. I too, realized that I had changed, my entire DNA changed from the power of the radiation emitted from the weapon. The most noticeable to myself was my hands: four digits instead of five. A purely cosmetic change, but to myself it felt so very wrong.
The sound of shifting rock drew my attention, and I spun, reaching reflexively for a piece of pipe that had been broken off when the command bunker was destroyed. From the depths, a five-fingered hand emerged from beneath rock, but it was covered in fur.
Gathering my courage, I called to it, but received a growling snarl that seemed like it came from a strained voice.
Putting my trepidation aside, I reached down and cleared out the rocks slowly, until I was able to form a hole where the hand reached out once more. I grasped it carefully and there was a canine whine as I gripped a little too hard.
Carefully, I assured the owner that I would pull, and so I did. Slowly, so that the debris would not collapse under our weight, I drew whatever it was to the surface. And when I did so, the creature shook itself as if it was a dog. Then, I noticed the ragged collar around its neck, and the label of “Poochie” under grime-splattered metal.
The creature was unlike anything I had ever seen before to this point: short brown hair, canine-esque features and floppy brown ears. Definitely a retriever collie. But it had a lean body, exaggerated hands and feet. And its eyes, large and expressive were much more intelligent than any animal I had ever seen before.
The canine-person took a step forward and suddenly pitched, unable to walk like a human. I grasped it in my arms and it made a low wuffle and a whine before I let it know that I would take it to safety.
Safety was a strange thing as I led the dog-creature through the ruins of the town-proper. Animals, both changed by the DNA bombs into human-like beings skittered away from me. Others sniffed at me before padding away on all fours. The one called Poochie sniffed at me as I carried it, knowing that I must be a fearsome being to all of these changed animals.
Soon, I made it to my own home, untouched by the explosive force, save for some broken glass where the shockwave had rattled the windows free. After cleaning up the glass, I found myself being stared at by Poochie who was licking her own hand, a fact that I realized when Poochie seemed to have an oddly feminine form.
The bursts of radiation had offlined much of the town with water and electricity at a minimum. Breathing in a sigh, I brushed my hair back, wondering if everyone made it safely to Atlantis while I had been left behind. Surely they would send a ship once the aliens had left.
Through the night, I heard cries, both afraid and feral. Large eyes belonging to both wild and domesticated animals that were changed, sniffed around my house to which I smiled as warmly as possible, trying not to look as intimidating. Many slunk back into the shadows. One or two cats curled up on the floor.
Daylight came and I found myself opening a can of stew. The dog-girl was awake now and I spooned out some food for her. The cats had left sometime in the night as I sat down.
The dog-girl pushed herself up, much like a human would, shaking her head. I then noticed that she seemed to be growing hair, much like a girl would, hints of red hair slowly emerging from her head. The dog-girl reached for the plate, fumbling long elegant fingers in a way she had never tried.
Slowly, I showed her how to use a spoon, and through trial and error, managed to get her to eat. I smiled and told her she was a good girl.
That’s when the next shock of the day hit me. She looked up and in a soft voice, stuttered out “Good… girl?”
Weeks went by as the dog-girl, no, Poochie, began to learn languages. Simple phrases at first, then more complex. Walks on two legs became runs. I began to teach her simple math and history. Weeks turned into months, and more creatures began to file into my home, enticed by the strange talking pair.
Soon, animals from all over the continent seemed to be drawn here to this very spot, eager to learn after realizing that they could speak like humans. I taught them math, science, the history of the world before the calamity. How to fashion simple cloth and grow foods.
What started as an experiment between myself and the dog became a living breathing world, a thriving town rebuilt in the remains of a once-human settlement.
Then, disaster struck.
Humanity, or what was left of it, had grown as well. Many people became embittered at the rapid progress of the animals turned neo-humans, and soon, fighting broke out.
I tried to stop the fighting, but humanity determined that it was still their world, and they would not allow animals to take their place. Poochie had become Samantha Howler, a name chosen by herself. She was the spokesperson of the animal people, and I, their teacher.
Humans hated me, thought I was giving our legacy away to them. There was a few brushes with death for the next few years, angry people who wanted to kill me and every talking animal in the world. I took to sleeping with a Zat under my pillow despite Sam’s misgivings.
I decided to search the world for more people to educate and help, but found that the world had reduced to a near-primal state with our little town as the only form of civilization that reached our old home. After several weeks abroad, I decided to return home.
Returning home however, was a bit of a shock as the people had grown restless without their leaders in the town. Already there had been several attacks by the four-fingered humans who remained, and multiple injuries.
Desperate for a solution, I decided to meet with the leader of the humans, for they had made their intentions of reclaiming our land as their own very clear. A clear-eyed fox came with me, as well as a burly bear, dressed in their finest. We had no weapons, save for the Zat I carried in my boot.
The meeting was short and swift. The human leader had no intention of standing down, and we could not abide with their demands. Dejected, I returned home, prepared to tell the bad news.
The people did not take the news well, and for long years, the humans and the neo-humans warred. Small guerrilla tactics adopted from historical records, as well as new techniques derived for their unique abilities. I had the hard choice of becoming a military commander and our town grew.
Then, I noticed it one day. The temperature was getting colder and snow fell with more frequency. I prepared my people for winter as best as I could, but nothing could have prepared us for a freak ice age.
The ice and snow blew in. For four years straight, all of North America was ravaged with a miniature ice age. When the blizzards stopped, all I could see was ice as far as the eye could see. Our people barely survived those long cold years, and the even longer thaw. The humans begged for food, as they had no manner of ability to cultivate what we had. The fighting stopped, just for a little while as we tried to cultivate food in the makeshift greenhouses that survived the chill.
The animal-people or neo-humanity as some may call it, were restless. Many of them warm-blooded, but the chill affected the reptile-people hard. They took up as much space as possible, trying to get as much heat as possible from the coal-burning fires. It was a long hard few years, but we finally saw the first hints of spring.
Sadly, the fighting began once more, but over resources this time. Raids from cavemen-like neo-humans had depleted morale and food supplies, and once again, we were forced to protect our home.
I knew it, several years later as I stepped onto the field one more time, that this would be our last encounter. The man whom I met with so many years ago, still burned with the same fire, but his body was old and aged, possibly because he was fairly old before the calamity. Sam stood to my side, her hair tied in a ponytail and dressed in BDU’s that brought memories of my old days.
I told him to yield. He said he would never surrender, nor would his men. I told him that bloodshed had gone for too long. And he said, “the Overlanders will never surrender”.
Overlanders. That’s what they called themselves now. Lords of all of the Lands before themselves. Steeling my resolve, I told him that the Overlanders must stand down, for the human race was already dangerously thin without the cause of fighting to aid it’s decline.
He spat at my feet, and then, without warning, he pulled something I hadn’t realized they had: a Zat.
The first bolt caused great pain as I struggled to get away. The second bolt arced over my shoulder, striking a hedgehog nearby. The third shot, came from Sam as she had pulled the Zat free from my boot, and fired twice.
The human leader died in a shuddering mass, and his troops surged to life.
I can’t remember how long we fought, or how many losses we incurred, but in the end, the fighting started to fade, then slowly come to a stop. The reason for that, as I blinked blood out of my eyes, was a descending sequence of lights from the sky above, and a twisting formation of clouds displaced.
Mobius had arrived. The first of its kind to be built in the Pegasus Galaxy. Finally, after forty-seven years, they had returned to witness a great battle to be decided for this world. After what remained of the untouched humanity had arrived to Pegasus, the Wraith had decided it was time to deal with the threat to their world. And for several long years, the Wraith, the Atlantians and the Replicators fought one another in a war of survival, before finally, Atlantis won, but not without being delayed a return to Earth for several reasons.
I saw my friends again that day, aged, grey, but still smiling. Every last one of them that made their way through the gate that fateful evening I saw, from new to old faces.
With the fighting stopped, the crew of the Mobius offered for the disgruntled Overlanders to be relocated, so that wars like this would cease. Slowly, but surely the fighting ended for a tentative peace.
Across the world, those whom we now called Mobians, in honour of the ship that stopped a potentially apocalyptic war, were discovering things that I used to take for granted: speech, writing, the wheel, water and wells, agriculture and history. Slowly but surely over 14,000 years of development, society grew from a caveman structure to a vast technologically advanced monarchy system.
People from our settlement that we would eventually call Acorn Ring began to leave every generation or so, spreading knowledge like wildfire. The Echidnas, bless their hearts, were becoming the smartest people in the world, eagerly soaking up the knowledge blessed to them, much to the amusement of my friends. Acorn Ring had become a legend to the people who knew of the point of all knowledge and ancestry.
Finally, one day, I found I couldn’t sit up.
The doctor, a young Philomarius Quack, a duck of all things, told me that there was nothing he could do. I had been on the planet when the bombing began, and I had gotten a full dose of radiation. There was nothing he could do to stop the deterioration of my cells. He was amazed that I had lived this long, and hadn’t succumbed to what was now known as Genealogic Degradation, a condition that not only wore down the reproduction of my cells but reverted many humans into a more primal state. The Gene bombs had been a mixed blessing as many people outside my sphere of influence were still wild, but still growing into what I believed to be a fine society, while our small pocket of humanity had made a niche in a isolated world.
My friends didn’t want me to go either, but they knew it was time. I had aged well until these last few years, living amongst the first Mobians of the world.
That night, Sam wanted to know what was death to me as I lay there, Sam’s head buried in my chest. I told her that it could be the start of a new adventure, as death was a release of burden, and the chance to do things anew.
She had been my dog, my companion, my friend, and I believed that she knew true love as I gazed into those watery blue eyes. Kissing her softly on the forehead, I slipped into a deep sleep.
When I awoke, it was in a bed, in a room that had been my own for years to come. And a woman stood there at the foot of the bed, a soft but sad smile on her face. I greeted her like a friend with a wry smile.
“You have returned to us,” said Oma, and I nodded, realizing I must look like a fright, all rumpled and dressed in what passed for tribal garments.
Oma led me to the café that the rest of the Ancients tended to hang out. While greeted by people I had briefly met during my previous Ascension, I turned at the familiar voice of one very happy Mobian.
“Surprised to see me?” inquired Sam as she walked over and embraced me.
I tried to protest, saying that it wasn’t her time, but Sam shook her head. “Without you, it wouldn’t be a happy ending.”
I smiled a little, ran my fingers through her thick brown hair and pulled her close. “At least now, you don’t have to spend eternity alone,” said Sam, her voice muffled into my shoulder.
“No, I think we’ll be fine,” I murmured.
I watched the world grow with Sam at my side, dog, friend and companion, all of those things put together. We watched great nations rise and fall. The world grew wild around the small pockets of advanced civilization. Parts of the world which had reverted to a stone age birthed the creature that would soon to become Mammoth Morgul. The Echidnas, masters of technology birthed the first of mortal folly in the form of Enerjak as the mysterious Chaos Emeralds were discovered and coveted. The world grew and grew, not without strife as the Overlanders, still always unhappy with their lot decided to strike at the Mobians in what would become known as the Great War in their history.
More friends joined me, unwilling to let me be ascended by myself. Jack, Sam, Teal’c, the core of SG1. People I knew throughout the universe ascended with more frequency than I had imagined. With them they brought stories of their worlds, and of Mobius.
“What do you think?” inquired Sam as she found me at my usual spot, staring down at the green jewel of the world. “Will they survive this latest threat?”
“All of these years and now it’s coming full circle,” I replied as I saw the birth of three very important people: a blue hedgehog named Sonic, a two-tailed fox named Tails, and a dreadlocked Echidna named Knuckles. I skimmed ahead, like a person would flip to the end of a book, and found their lives to be great and filled with strife. I saw multiple worlds created by choice. And then, as I closed my view upon the future, and refocused on the present, I smiled at Sam and said, “I think they’ll be all right. I really do.”
“I hope so Daniel. Because we’re just a young race. There’s lots of time to grow up again.”
To be perfectly fair, I don't have COMPLETELY accurate information since I haven't had access to the latest issues in a while, but it's something of a first person pov. As a warning, it's just one interpretation of Year 0 Mobius Calendar events. Fanboys leave your foaming at the door.
Year Zero
Written by Shaun Garin
=====
We called them the Ancients. The Gate-Builders. People who managed to do what no other person could. They were wise, all knowing, transcended from flesh and blood into living energy.
As we learned about them, things came to light about the Ancients that we long held suspect about them. They were not infallible. They had been mortal. And they made mistakes. Many mistakes that we humans are cleaning up today. But none is more fallible than the day that created this disaster.
The Ancients left records of the ones coming to our planet that day, beings that were constantly in war with others, much like the ones we had fought over the years. Through experience we knew the Ori couldn’t have been the last enemy on our lists of potential threats, but he had little to no ability to fight back, not with many of our ships still under repair or in the Pegasus Galaxy.
We had warning. Deep space radar showed an approaching armada. We dispatched ships to warn them off in the hopes of preventing a war that would lead to the destruction of either side. But what we neglected to realize, far too little too late, was that humanity had also made a vital mistake that ended life as we knew it.
It was without warning, but we soon realized the provocation had started with us as one of their own had been captured, tested upon and dissected like some animal, much like the old tapes of the Roswell Grey whom we now knew to be the dead husk of an Asgard. They saw this as a terrible offence, one that they decided to repay for in blood.
Our allies didn’t know how much time we had left, and many of them knew far too little too late. We sent our best and our brightest through the Stargate left on Earth by the Ancients in order to preserve what could very well have been the last of our people, and vessels carried people to our last few remaining ships to bring back to the Pegasus Galaxy. I lingered, in case there was anything else we could do to avert such a disaster.
Then the bombs began to fall.
Sinister weapons of mass destruction, they were unlike the nuclear warheads that we employed during our day that incinerated countless human lives. No, this was far more ruthless and on a grand scale. Those who survived called it a DNA Bomb. A weapon that was designed to destroy life on a grand scale, leaving the world a lifeless ruin.
I was one of the first to witness the bomb’s power through monitoring stations deep within our complex. But, I stayed, waiting for the last to arrive in some desperate hope that Atlantis would become the new home for everyone whom we sent through the Stargate. The earth shook around us, and then just as the last group went through, I felt the bomb’s power rock my very soul to its foundations.
When I woke up, I had thought myself to be dead: crammed in the tiniest space. Desperately I clawed my way through to the surface, a feat that seemed shorter than I had believed it to be, until I broke through.
What I saw, was an undeniable peacefulness, filled with mute horror. I too, realized that I had changed, my entire DNA changed from the power of the radiation emitted from the weapon. The most noticeable to myself was my hands: four digits instead of five. A purely cosmetic change, but to myself it felt so very wrong.
The sound of shifting rock drew my attention, and I spun, reaching reflexively for a piece of pipe that had been broken off when the command bunker was destroyed. From the depths, a five-fingered hand emerged from beneath rock, but it was covered in fur.
Gathering my courage, I called to it, but received a growling snarl that seemed like it came from a strained voice.
Putting my trepidation aside, I reached down and cleared out the rocks slowly, until I was able to form a hole where the hand reached out once more. I grasped it carefully and there was a canine whine as I gripped a little too hard.
Carefully, I assured the owner that I would pull, and so I did. Slowly, so that the debris would not collapse under our weight, I drew whatever it was to the surface. And when I did so, the creature shook itself as if it was a dog. Then, I noticed the ragged collar around its neck, and the label of “Poochie” under grime-splattered metal.
The creature was unlike anything I had ever seen before to this point: short brown hair, canine-esque features and floppy brown ears. Definitely a retriever collie. But it had a lean body, exaggerated hands and feet. And its eyes, large and expressive were much more intelligent than any animal I had ever seen before.
The canine-person took a step forward and suddenly pitched, unable to walk like a human. I grasped it in my arms and it made a low wuffle and a whine before I let it know that I would take it to safety.
Safety was a strange thing as I led the dog-creature through the ruins of the town-proper. Animals, both changed by the DNA bombs into human-like beings skittered away from me. Others sniffed at me before padding away on all fours. The one called Poochie sniffed at me as I carried it, knowing that I must be a fearsome being to all of these changed animals.
Soon, I made it to my own home, untouched by the explosive force, save for some broken glass where the shockwave had rattled the windows free. After cleaning up the glass, I found myself being stared at by Poochie who was licking her own hand, a fact that I realized when Poochie seemed to have an oddly feminine form.
The bursts of radiation had offlined much of the town with water and electricity at a minimum. Breathing in a sigh, I brushed my hair back, wondering if everyone made it safely to Atlantis while I had been left behind. Surely they would send a ship once the aliens had left.
Through the night, I heard cries, both afraid and feral. Large eyes belonging to both wild and domesticated animals that were changed, sniffed around my house to which I smiled as warmly as possible, trying not to look as intimidating. Many slunk back into the shadows. One or two cats curled up on the floor.
Daylight came and I found myself opening a can of stew. The dog-girl was awake now and I spooned out some food for her. The cats had left sometime in the night as I sat down.
The dog-girl pushed herself up, much like a human would, shaking her head. I then noticed that she seemed to be growing hair, much like a girl would, hints of red hair slowly emerging from her head. The dog-girl reached for the plate, fumbling long elegant fingers in a way she had never tried.
Slowly, I showed her how to use a spoon, and through trial and error, managed to get her to eat. I smiled and told her she was a good girl.
That’s when the next shock of the day hit me. She looked up and in a soft voice, stuttered out “Good… girl?”
Weeks went by as the dog-girl, no, Poochie, began to learn languages. Simple phrases at first, then more complex. Walks on two legs became runs. I began to teach her simple math and history. Weeks turned into months, and more creatures began to file into my home, enticed by the strange talking pair.
Soon, animals from all over the continent seemed to be drawn here to this very spot, eager to learn after realizing that they could speak like humans. I taught them math, science, the history of the world before the calamity. How to fashion simple cloth and grow foods.
What started as an experiment between myself and the dog became a living breathing world, a thriving town rebuilt in the remains of a once-human settlement.
Then, disaster struck.
Humanity, or what was left of it, had grown as well. Many people became embittered at the rapid progress of the animals turned neo-humans, and soon, fighting broke out.
I tried to stop the fighting, but humanity determined that it was still their world, and they would not allow animals to take their place. Poochie had become Samantha Howler, a name chosen by herself. She was the spokesperson of the animal people, and I, their teacher.
Humans hated me, thought I was giving our legacy away to them. There was a few brushes with death for the next few years, angry people who wanted to kill me and every talking animal in the world. I took to sleeping with a Zat under my pillow despite Sam’s misgivings.
I decided to search the world for more people to educate and help, but found that the world had reduced to a near-primal state with our little town as the only form of civilization that reached our old home. After several weeks abroad, I decided to return home.
Returning home however, was a bit of a shock as the people had grown restless without their leaders in the town. Already there had been several attacks by the four-fingered humans who remained, and multiple injuries.
Desperate for a solution, I decided to meet with the leader of the humans, for they had made their intentions of reclaiming our land as their own very clear. A clear-eyed fox came with me, as well as a burly bear, dressed in their finest. We had no weapons, save for the Zat I carried in my boot.
The meeting was short and swift. The human leader had no intention of standing down, and we could not abide with their demands. Dejected, I returned home, prepared to tell the bad news.
The people did not take the news well, and for long years, the humans and the neo-humans warred. Small guerrilla tactics adopted from historical records, as well as new techniques derived for their unique abilities. I had the hard choice of becoming a military commander and our town grew.
Then, I noticed it one day. The temperature was getting colder and snow fell with more frequency. I prepared my people for winter as best as I could, but nothing could have prepared us for a freak ice age.
The ice and snow blew in. For four years straight, all of North America was ravaged with a miniature ice age. When the blizzards stopped, all I could see was ice as far as the eye could see. Our people barely survived those long cold years, and the even longer thaw. The humans begged for food, as they had no manner of ability to cultivate what we had. The fighting stopped, just for a little while as we tried to cultivate food in the makeshift greenhouses that survived the chill.
The animal-people or neo-humanity as some may call it, were restless. Many of them warm-blooded, but the chill affected the reptile-people hard. They took up as much space as possible, trying to get as much heat as possible from the coal-burning fires. It was a long hard few years, but we finally saw the first hints of spring.
Sadly, the fighting began once more, but over resources this time. Raids from cavemen-like neo-humans had depleted morale and food supplies, and once again, we were forced to protect our home.
I knew it, several years later as I stepped onto the field one more time, that this would be our last encounter. The man whom I met with so many years ago, still burned with the same fire, but his body was old and aged, possibly because he was fairly old before the calamity. Sam stood to my side, her hair tied in a ponytail and dressed in BDU’s that brought memories of my old days.
I told him to yield. He said he would never surrender, nor would his men. I told him that bloodshed had gone for too long. And he said, “the Overlanders will never surrender”.
Overlanders. That’s what they called themselves now. Lords of all of the Lands before themselves. Steeling my resolve, I told him that the Overlanders must stand down, for the human race was already dangerously thin without the cause of fighting to aid it’s decline.
He spat at my feet, and then, without warning, he pulled something I hadn’t realized they had: a Zat.
The first bolt caused great pain as I struggled to get away. The second bolt arced over my shoulder, striking a hedgehog nearby. The third shot, came from Sam as she had pulled the Zat free from my boot, and fired twice.
The human leader died in a shuddering mass, and his troops surged to life.
I can’t remember how long we fought, or how many losses we incurred, but in the end, the fighting started to fade, then slowly come to a stop. The reason for that, as I blinked blood out of my eyes, was a descending sequence of lights from the sky above, and a twisting formation of clouds displaced.
Mobius had arrived. The first of its kind to be built in the Pegasus Galaxy. Finally, after forty-seven years, they had returned to witness a great battle to be decided for this world. After what remained of the untouched humanity had arrived to Pegasus, the Wraith had decided it was time to deal with the threat to their world. And for several long years, the Wraith, the Atlantians and the Replicators fought one another in a war of survival, before finally, Atlantis won, but not without being delayed a return to Earth for several reasons.
I saw my friends again that day, aged, grey, but still smiling. Every last one of them that made their way through the gate that fateful evening I saw, from new to old faces.
With the fighting stopped, the crew of the Mobius offered for the disgruntled Overlanders to be relocated, so that wars like this would cease. Slowly, but surely the fighting ended for a tentative peace.
Across the world, those whom we now called Mobians, in honour of the ship that stopped a potentially apocalyptic war, were discovering things that I used to take for granted: speech, writing, the wheel, water and wells, agriculture and history. Slowly but surely over 14,000 years of development, society grew from a caveman structure to a vast technologically advanced monarchy system.
People from our settlement that we would eventually call Acorn Ring began to leave every generation or so, spreading knowledge like wildfire. The Echidnas, bless their hearts, were becoming the smartest people in the world, eagerly soaking up the knowledge blessed to them, much to the amusement of my friends. Acorn Ring had become a legend to the people who knew of the point of all knowledge and ancestry.
Finally, one day, I found I couldn’t sit up.
The doctor, a young Philomarius Quack, a duck of all things, told me that there was nothing he could do. I had been on the planet when the bombing began, and I had gotten a full dose of radiation. There was nothing he could do to stop the deterioration of my cells. He was amazed that I had lived this long, and hadn’t succumbed to what was now known as Genealogic Degradation, a condition that not only wore down the reproduction of my cells but reverted many humans into a more primal state. The Gene bombs had been a mixed blessing as many people outside my sphere of influence were still wild, but still growing into what I believed to be a fine society, while our small pocket of humanity had made a niche in a isolated world.
My friends didn’t want me to go either, but they knew it was time. I had aged well until these last few years, living amongst the first Mobians of the world.
That night, Sam wanted to know what was death to me as I lay there, Sam’s head buried in my chest. I told her that it could be the start of a new adventure, as death was a release of burden, and the chance to do things anew.
She had been my dog, my companion, my friend, and I believed that she knew true love as I gazed into those watery blue eyes. Kissing her softly on the forehead, I slipped into a deep sleep.
When I awoke, it was in a bed, in a room that had been my own for years to come. And a woman stood there at the foot of the bed, a soft but sad smile on her face. I greeted her like a friend with a wry smile.
“You have returned to us,” said Oma, and I nodded, realizing I must look like a fright, all rumpled and dressed in what passed for tribal garments.
Oma led me to the café that the rest of the Ancients tended to hang out. While greeted by people I had briefly met during my previous Ascension, I turned at the familiar voice of one very happy Mobian.
“Surprised to see me?” inquired Sam as she walked over and embraced me.
I tried to protest, saying that it wasn’t her time, but Sam shook her head. “Without you, it wouldn’t be a happy ending.”
I smiled a little, ran my fingers through her thick brown hair and pulled her close. “At least now, you don’t have to spend eternity alone,” said Sam, her voice muffled into my shoulder.
“No, I think we’ll be fine,” I murmured.
I watched the world grow with Sam at my side, dog, friend and companion, all of those things put together. We watched great nations rise and fall. The world grew wild around the small pockets of advanced civilization. Parts of the world which had reverted to a stone age birthed the creature that would soon to become Mammoth Morgul. The Echidnas, masters of technology birthed the first of mortal folly in the form of Enerjak as the mysterious Chaos Emeralds were discovered and coveted. The world grew and grew, not without strife as the Overlanders, still always unhappy with their lot decided to strike at the Mobians in what would become known as the Great War in their history.
More friends joined me, unwilling to let me be ascended by myself. Jack, Sam, Teal’c, the core of SG1. People I knew throughout the universe ascended with more frequency than I had imagined. With them they brought stories of their worlds, and of Mobius.
“What do you think?” inquired Sam as she found me at my usual spot, staring down at the green jewel of the world. “Will they survive this latest threat?”
“All of these years and now it’s coming full circle,” I replied as I saw the birth of three very important people: a blue hedgehog named Sonic, a two-tailed fox named Tails, and a dreadlocked Echidna named Knuckles. I skimmed ahead, like a person would flip to the end of a book, and found their lives to be great and filled with strife. I saw multiple worlds created by choice. And then, as I closed my view upon the future, and refocused on the present, I smiled at Sam and said, “I think they’ll be all right. I really do.”
“I hope so Daniel. Because we’re just a young race. There’s lots of time to grow up again.”