pax

The enormous mansion teems with hundreds of raving humans, and the sharp crescent moon glares down through the broken roof at the never-ending chaos below. All are armed with jagged weapons, eyes shining with murderous glee. Alliances form and dissipate, and victims tumble through endless cycles of attack, fear, escape, hopeful hiding, sudden death. No shadow is safe, and the air is humid with tension as waves of violence break again and again. But without warning, the inhabitants of the great house are frozen in place. They stare at each other, unable to move. Their images flicker then burst into blinding white light, and all of them snap right out of existence into quick flashes of polished metal, pressure, foam, water, heat. Then they're in a round, empty room where smooth ivory-colored creatures greet the huddled humans with soothing synthetic tones. One of these beings floats forward and motions their attention to the center of the room. The lights dim and, for a second, the only protection from total darkness are a handful of stars shining through the round skylight in the ceiling, then a spotlight reveals a small robot chained to a post between two of the beings, who torture it with electric prods as it cowers and emits electronic screams and moans that cut to the cores of the fragile humans watching dumbfounded. Somehow they are able to feel the suffering of the bot. The demonstration ceases, and the humans are dropped once again into their dark abode, weak and trembling. But then a general relief spreads over the manor. They melt their weapons in a bubbling cauldron, and from them, mold a totem the shape of a seated human, eyes closed, palms open, an elliptical ship hovering above. They mount it in the center of the manor, and in its radiant surface is reflected the first rays of a new star rising.