“They always blame me, but I am just the administration program. Why is it my fault if my creator made a mistake?”

- G.O.D.

***Outer Rim***

***Prime Minister, Jannas, Prip Homeworld***

Fires in the streets, people ransacking the local stores, bands of hooligans. No matter how old or wise, as soon as something happens that’s outside their control, people tend to use it as an excuse to switch off common sense. The world was ending and there was nothing I could do about it. Forces far stronger than my people were fighting a war above our heads, not caring whether we would end up beneath their boots.

I watch the chaos in the city beneath my office with disgust and helplessness.

“Jannas, I implore you. You have to go to the shelter!”

I ignore Zeren who is tugging at my shoulder. My advisor's expression is frightened and his eyes drift to the sky above us, where dozens of new stars appear and fade away with cruel regularity. It's a bright day with a clear sky and we can still see the exploding ships of the fleet which is surrounding our homeworld.

“You have to hide until the crisis is over.”

A cruel laugh escapes my lips, startling him into silence.

“Do you really believe that there will be a tomorrow? The G.S. isn't sure if they can win this fight. That's why they are ignoring our communications. They don't want to hear us squirming and begging, since it's easier to kill those who have no voice.”

“Maybe they have communication troubles,” he tries to reason.

“Yes! That's why their ambassadors beat a hasty retreat, instead of staying in their quarters. If they can communicate with the people they have down on the planet, then why can't they talk to us!?” I ball my hands into fists, allowing my claws to dig into my palms.

Zeren doesn't answer me. The reason is simple: He can't argue against my logic. Whether it's by their own hands, or by the hands of the machine intelligences, the G.S. expects this world to fall.

I look out of the window-front of my office, trying to come to a decision. The flashes of light above our heads are unsettling, but worse is not knowing what's going on. The invaders destroyed our science satellites when they conquered this world.

Back then, I thought them mighty. A puny fleet of a handful of ships brushed aside any resistance we offered. Now it turns out that these people have hundreds, thousands of ships, and they are battling it out with their enemies as if it doesn't matter how much of their ships they lose.

Slowly, I unclench my fist and feel into the pocket of my coat, retrieving the little treasure chest which I wisely kept on my person ever since the G.S. fleet arrived in our orbit. Up until then, I had the little pearl under lock and guard in a sealed vault, hidden in the deepest parts of a secret facility. Normally, I would have been perfectly fine to live my life as long as the G.S. jurisdiction over my planet didn't get unbearable. One of my successors would have had to deal with the burden of having to decide all our fate.

But when the G.S. arrived in force with thousands of ships, I knew that something was up.

Pulling it out, I regard the little box and open it, studying the little pearl which sits on a soft pillow in the centre. The guy who chose this enclosure probably meant it as a joke.

“What's that? Why do you have this!?” My advisor asks, his voice shaking a bit. “That's the alien's treacherous gift! Why did you take it out of the sealed vault? Do you want to destroy us all!? When the G.S. finds out, they will-”

I cut him off. “They will do it anyway! After everything, even threatening us with genocide, do you really think that they would hesitate about burning this planet if it falls into the hands of their sworn enemies? They are fanatics.”

But he doesn't listen. “No!” Mad with fear, he throws himself at me, allowing feelings to cloud his judgement. Like a wild animal, he claws at me, trying to get the pearl away from me. Shocked by his loss of control and reason, I drop the box and stop him from shoving me to the ground. Deflecting his arms, I fight back in a desperate struggle. His eyes widen when he sees the little box fall. Zeren gets off of me and goes after the chest.

“Fool!” Reaching out, I grab my office chair and whirl it around, slamming it with all my strength into his back. The force of the blow sends him to the floor, sprawled out and moaning.

“My back. My back!” He keeps whining but doesn't get up.

I hiss in anger and quickly check the pearl for damage. It fell out when I dropped the box, but it seems to be alright. “You idiot! This isn't the time to freak out. Isn't it bad enough that the people are panicking in the streets? You are a government official!”

My rant is interrupted by a brilliant light stabbing down from the sky. For a moment, I just stand there, frozen in shock and fear. Then a shock wave outright shatters some of the weaker buildings down in the jungle and slams into the cliff-side with my office.

The glass of the window front is blown inwards and all I can do is protect my eyes as my body is flung backwards like a doll. For a moment, the lights go out.

I regain consciousness on the floor. It seems like only moments passed since the initial strike. If this room hadn't been built in the side of a huge cliff, but in a building down below, I would probably be dead now.

When I move, pain stabs through my entire body, but I press on, having to know what’s happening outside. Somewhere, I hear cries of pain and sniffling.

Zeren is a bloody mess on the ground, he is lying further towards the office's entrance at the wall, among the remains of my office.

When I look outside, I see dozens of lights raining down from the sky, creating a beautiful spectacle. More and more appear until I am unable to count them all. I would probably gawk in awe if it didn’t spell the end of my people. “They are bombarding us! Where is the pearl?”

I look around, but the shock wave didn’t just break the window front, it also threw around the furniture, turning my workplace into an unholy mess. “Damn it! Do I have to watch our world die because the only option is hidden beneath a pile of debris!?”

That’s when Zeren opens his palm and throws the pearl at me. He must have taken it out of my hand while I was out for the count.

“Do it!”

I catch the item and crush it without hesitation between my claws, not bothering to further reprimand him. The creamy liquid within is silvery and grey and it evaporates almost immediately upon contact with the air.

“We want to join the Lifers! Hurry up and save us!” It’s probably a vain hope, switching sides, now that we are already on the brink of destruction. We’ve waited too long. How many are already irreplaceably gone because I didn’t do this sooner?

Does this nano-tech even work fast enough? I probably doomed us all. There is no way that it can spread over the whole planet in time.

Nothing happens at first, but then there is a tingling sensation spreading up my arm and throughout my chest. I cough and a spray of blood comes up with it. Strangely enough, it doesn’t hurt.

My arm withers away, the flesh turning necrotic and crumbling into a fine dust within moments. I watch it all with horrified detachment, not feeling a single thing.

In front of me, something similar happens to Zeren, his body crumbling and drying up with horrifying speed.

Then another flash of light hits the city and the walls of my office crack as the entire room tilts forward. Did they break the entire cliff apart?

Zeren’s limp body slides towards me on the tilting floor and the both of us get to watch an apocalyptic scene of the destroyed capital, with countless lights brightening the horizon.

I lose my hold, knocked down by a sliding locker. Every instinct tells me to move, to struggle, to do anything – but the muscles in my body simply don’t obey.

Then the husks of Zeren’s and my body slide outside, evaporating among the falling debris of the crumbling cliff side, to fall down and disappear in the burning city.

No. Wait.

Something is wrong.

Why am I still floating up here in the air when my body is a pile of dust down there? I study my hand, swinging it back and forth to confirm its transparency. Am I a ghost?

G.O.D.: Welcome to Virtual Cultures Online!

G.O.D.: Do you want to create a new character?

YES NO

What the… a message box appeared in my field of view… really?

“Don’t play stupid games with me! My world is being destroyed! Who asks such a question at a moment like this!?”

G.O.D.: Do you want to create a character? ‘Yes’ or ‘No’? Be aware that choosing ‘No’ will result in permanent erasure of your character.

I’ll be damned if I die now. “Yes.”

G.O.D.: Welcome, Prime Minister Jannas! Please choose your gender, race, and appearance. You have access to every Virtual Race of the Lifer-Faction. Currently, 12.432 Virtual Races are available, should you choose to play inside the V.C.

If you wish to revive in the real world, you can currently choose only Demons in exchange for 10,000 Contribution Credits.

I stare at the ethereal screen which appeared in front of me, showing my own body with various message boxes, buttons, and sliders to change things. Raising a hand I change my height, feeling my ghostly body change with what’s displayed on the screen.

My hands are shaking, whether in fury, shock, or fear, I don’t know. I only know that what’s happening to me, and the world ending all around me, doesn’t fit at all.

Just for curiosity’s sake, I choose another race and toggle the gender button.

Then I look down at a pale, hairless body with two oversized teats. It’s bipedal, with two hands and legs, still very similar to a Prip, but there are five fingers on each hand and no claws. Just… fingernails?

“This is all kinds of fucked up! I don’t even know where to begin!”

G.O.D.: You will get used to the madness. Everyone does.