Venus.

Second planet from the sun, a cloud shrouded globe known in ancient times as both Vesper and Lucifer. Air of carbon dioxide and clouds of sulfuric acid that rained acid down upon basalt plains. An atmosphere as thick as the bottom of Earth's oceans, with a surface temperature of 880F, turning too slowly to create a magnetic field to protect it.

It was an Earth that had failed.

Then came humanity.

Terraforming was difficult, expensive, and expansive. The first to do was to increase the rotation, a seemingly impossible task that the best scientific minds were dedicated to. In less than twenty years they managed to increase the spin so that it rotated in twenty days rather than 240, although it still spun in the opposite direction of every other planet. Next came 'seeding' the planet. Comets were created and hurtled into the atmosphere, changing it one by one.

It took nearly a hundred years to change the atmosphere. To extend it outward so that the pressure was relieved without losing the atmosphere, to change the mixture into something survivable by humanity. Then came rain, filling up the basalt basin and huge plains. The crowns, the mountain ridges, the volcanoes, became islands and island chains as water, precious H2O filled the basins.

Then came the shock troops. Vegetation.

But the planet was still almost merciless in its environment. Slowly being tamed but still unapproachable by standard humans.

Gulma'an was an Orc.

His people were genetically designed and bred to survive on Venus's surface, to work at terraforming the planet. His skin was green, his sweat was black, and his blood was dark dark red. His hands were callused and worn from tending to the ferocious and unforgiving plants of his beloved Venus.

He had lived his entire life on the surface of beloved wild Venus. It was his mother, his daughter, his sister, his wife, his secret lover. He could feel the movement of her waves from her ocean expanses in his heartbeat, feel her winds in his breathing, feel her joy at wakening in the touch of the sun's light upon his green skin. He was sustained by her air, by the sun, and was one with the eco-system.

Even the Extinction Agenda Attack upon the world had little effect upon him. Yes, it made the plants more aggressive, but it also made them more hardy. True, the insects and what few animals dwelt upon the surface were more aggressive, but they were Venus's children, as was he, and he lived in harmony with them. Even the ocean dwelling creatures turned their fangs and fury upon mankind, but that was fine, Venus was young and prone to fits of temper.

To Gulma'an, the sight of ants the size of large rodents was nothing to fear, after all, they were part of the eco-system just as Gulma'an was.

Occassionaly a human in a suit of environmental armor would arrive to speak to the village elders, and often, when he was younger, Gulma'an would try to overhear their words. Their language was strange, soft and lilting, unlike the roars of his own language. As if they did not have to be heard over the laughter of Mother Goddess Venus, as if their voices had grown to maturity somewhere without the wild passions of the Goddess Venus.

Now that he was an adult, Gulma'an no longer worried about what the Humies might have to say. He was content to ensure the honeysuckle grew onto the glittering ridge of basalt mixed with quartz. It would use its roots to fracture the rock, eventually turning the ridge that met the ocean into a beautiful beach.

He was looking forward to it. He could imagine his children playing on the glittering beach, playing in the water and laughing.

The Goddess Venus would grow to be just as beautiful as her sister Terra, and Gulma'an would be one of the many who helped her achieve her beauty. He would live long, death largely defeated by his design, to be hundreds, thousands of years old as he helped his Goddess Venus through her growing pains and the trials of adolescence.

Then came the day of horror.

From the skies came huge beams of light that touched the azure oceans of Venus, touched down upon the major islands where the Humies made their homes. Where the light touched everything exploded. The cities of the Humies and the gardens surrounding them blasted into molten rock and falling ash, the ocean water converted into steam in an explosive response to the light.

Gulma'an and his village had been lucky. Sheltered by the glittering ridge and the small rise of a fitfully slumbering volcano, only wind and fury struck his village.

Then came the rains. The plants screamed and writhed in torment. The sun's rays were cruel, twisting the plants even further, driving them mad, bringing them from subtle harmony into violent competition.

No longer was Gulma'an the plant's brother. No longer did Gulma'an care for anything beyond the Goddess Venus as it felt as if part of his mind had been stripped away.

His Goddess Venus was scarred and disfigured and cried out in pain, Gulma'an and his people cried out with her.

Gulma'an was driven half mad by the Goddess Venus's screams of pain. He grew larger, more muscular. His jaw thrust outward, heavy tusks growing for his lower jaw, his bones thickened and his skin grew even more resistant, his coloration deepened.

When the bug-people came, landing in their craft, Gulma'an killed them with rock and spear, lured them to plants that ate tougher insects then them. He led ants the size of a crawling child into their ships, the lines of hundreds eager for the protein that the bug-people would provide.

Gulma'an found that the bug-men tasted good when roasted alive over a fire.

His tribe ate well.

They knew where to hide in the caves in the glittering cliffs. The plants relented and allowed them to hide within them.

The bug-people left.

Which Gulma'an secretly regretted.

They were delicious.

He, and his people, went back to tending to the Goddess Venus's wounds. She was scarred, defiled, but she was their mother, and they loved her.

One morning a figure of light appeared, walking across the steaming seas of Venus. He was followed by four others in a boat they rowed. The figure stepped up upon the beach and Gulma'an went down to see this vision.

He was slightly afraid of the figures. One was huge human, more metal than man, who's joints hissed and whirred when he moved. Another looked dangerous to Gulma'an, the tattoos on his face reminding Gulma'an of the tattoos on his own. The other was thin, delicate appearing, with skin the proper brown color of the Sons of Venus that had been blotted away by the sky-lights. The last was a woman, her skin pale, her hair black, a wound that leaked black blood down her front.

Curious, Gulma'an approached the figure, wondering who it was, who its companions were.

The figure spoke the language of The People. Gulma'an took them to see the village elder, the wise man, and the glimmering figure went into the Elder's cave and spoke to the Elder alone.

Gulma'an stared at the quartet left, wondering who they were.

The being made of sparkling light came out, motioning to Gulma'an.

What they spoke of has been lost to time and never recorded.

All that is known is that when the Digital Omnimessiah left Venus, Green Thomas went with him.