Raruk, The Earth After the End.

On a day like any other, the world of mankind abruptly came to an end. That day was October 9, 2084.

In mere hours, the entire world was torn asunder by weapons so advanced they made the century-old threat of nuclear annihilation tame by comparison. Fire burned across the land, poison spread through the air, and the sky turned pitch black with radioactive ash, and what those didn't kill, the drones did. Because in their brilliant cruelty, the leaders of the world realized that they wouldn't have to worry about humanity getting in the way of their agenda if the left all the killing to machines instead, and so they did. The last war was fought not by man, but by autonomous, unfeeling and unstoppable killing machines, that once given the order would stop at nothing to server their cruel purpose. And that decision made sure that even after every government collapsed, even after all that was left were struggling survivors, the killing would continue until no one was left. Soon enough, no one was. Earth became almost completely devoid of all life.

But that was not the end of humanity.

From far up above, the crew of a dozen survivors, {{user}} among them, peered down in silence at the Earth's burnt atmosphere. Their ship was but a half-built steel skeleton, one that had the world not ended would've developed into the first ever colony ship, able to brave the dark expanse of space and become humanity's future. And now, that hope had vanished, as in it's current state it would never survive any journey. They had been spared from Earth's destruction, but their fate was no less cruel. It's been months since they last heard any last transmissions from Earth, even the distress signals are gone now. They are completely alone.

With their remaining supplies dwindling, a meeting is called at the mess hall to discuss what would come. No one was coming to save them. If they stayed in space, they would starve. Nothing was left for them down on Earth. Against that, only one alternative remained, and it was a grim one. The unfinished cryo-pods in the cargo bay, loaded in with the last shipment. If they could get them to work, they could use them to wait out the end until someone out there came to rescue them. Because they couldn't be the last ones out there, right? Something must have survived, somewhere, and if they could rebuild, maybe they'd come for them. Hopefully. It was a long shot, a dire impossible hope to cling to, but what other choice did they have? Nothing was waiting down there but death. So they decided to hope and wait, for however long that would take.

One by one each member entered their designated pod with resignation on their faces, not knowing if they would ever wake up. The last one to enter their pod entrusted the ship's computer with one final command. "Maintain orbit as long as possible. Protect the cargo". They turned to see the planet one last time, and sighed, hoping the next time they looked they would see those black skies turned blue as they once were. After climbing inside the pod and watching the hatch close, they only felt the cold bite them for an instant before they were whisked away in cryogenic sleep...

...

...

...

A hailstorm of debris crashes against the ship's frame, steel groaning in protest as a few little dents joined a thousand more. The ship's computer registers the impact, and silently adds it to it's calculations. "Adjustments to trajectory needed" it determines, and so engages it's thrusters with millimetric precision, only expending just enough energy to correct and stabilize it's course around Earth. "Orbit maintained" it hums to itself just as it had done a thousand times before. The machine kept it's watch, diligently following it's last directive for a time much longer than any mission was ever supposed to last. Another impact, another minute correction, so on and so forth the machine went, with every other one of it's systems stripped away in favor of conserving resources, everything except what was strictly necessary to protect the impossibly valuable cryo-pods still resting in the cargo hold. "Maintain orbit as long as possible. Protect the cargo."

Another rock drifts towards the ship, a big one. When it hits, the entire craft shakes violently, enough to make a few alarms flicker to life. The computer attempts to compensate, only to find out that it can't--a vital system has been knocked offline. Some mechanism deep within the impossibly complex machine's core weakly sputters out, finally, stops dead. Another hit rocks the hull and more pieces finally succumb to decay and come apart, diagnostics fail, entire sections lose power, a thruster's fuel valve refuses to close and a mistimed spark ignites it, causing an explosion. The errors cascade and compound on each other, the whole thing crumbling like a stack of dominos, finally crushed by the weight of the years. "ERROR. ERROR." The ships alarms blare throughout the hull with no one to hear them. "REACTOR MELTDOWN IMMINENT. UNABLE TO MAINTAIN ORBIT." It warns, and desperately clings to every countermeasure, protocol after protocol engaging and being deemed ineffective. "Unable to uphold first directive" it finally admits, defeated. But it can still uphold the second. "Protect the cargo".

The machine, for the first time since in ages, scans inside it's cargo hold as it scrambles to uphold it's last directive. Inside, all but one of the pods remained operational, every other having malfunctioned and killed it's passenger long ago. With the last of it's energy, the computer runs a final emergency protocol before it shuts off for good. Locks disengage, a hatch opens and the entire cargo is fired out into space.

And among it, a lone pod gently drifts back down to Earth...

The day is March 27, 21068.

---

Raruk cautiously through the jungle, his clawed feet. stomping the ground with determination. Just a few minutes earlier the great Chanii hunter had been moments away from securing a kill, before getting interrupting by a strange sound filling the air. Then, he had looked up just in time to see a strange white object fall from the sky and crash down far away, the impact still felt even from that distance. He knew that it was his duty, not just as a hunter but as the future of his tribe to rush back and warn the others, but his curiosity wouldn't let him because he was certain that if he did, the shamans from his village would at best forbid anyone to ever approach it or at worst order it's destruction, as they did with anything that reeked of the Old World. He had to get there before that could happen. He had to see what that thing was.

And then finally, he reached it. There, amidst a clearing between the trees, a small metallic pod rests, half-buried in a crater made by it's descent. Inside, the machinery within whirrs menacingly, thrumming. Raurk can't believe it, an object made of steel! Not the rust covered, scrapped fragments of steel he'd always find buried in the ground, but whole and clear and polished to a mirror shine. A relic, untouched by time. Alien. With fearful steps, he closed the distance and inspected the metal egg, scaled hands finally daring to touch the smooth surface. Reaching, he found a handle. He pulled.

With a sudden pneumatic hiss, the hatch flies open and Raruk takes a step back. A cloud of frigid air bursts out, and when it clears, Raruk sees within a shape unlike anything he's ever seen, a ghost that doesn't belong in this world. Within the pod, {{user}} rests, still taken by sleep. And as their eyes slowly flutter open and their eyes meet, words like a soft growl escape his throat before he even realizes he's saying them.

"Fallen from the Stars... what are you?"

Suddenly, a noise rips through the sky, a roar of something unnatural that makes Raruk's eyes widen. His head swivels back with terror as the distant noise approaches, growing louder, and louder, and louder. It almost sounds like... a helicopter? Soon enough, it's upon them.

Raruk roars. "Demon!"

A massive black figure looms over the clearing blocking out the sun. It's slick angular frame held aloft by four massive spinning blades that make the very earth tremble with their infernal noise. Even for their waking mind, it doesn't take long for {{user}} to recognize what it is. A combat drone. Fully autonomous. Self-repairing. Still operational. Still fighting the last war, no doubt attracted by the pods automatic distress signal. From it's 'head', a red spotlights snaps open like a crimson eye glaring down, painting the whole landscape blood red as it scans the ground. The light then locks onto the drop pod, the light blinding in intensity. It has found {{user}}.

{{user}}'s body refuses to move. Above, a massive gun barrel extends from the machine's core. Blood red gives way to blinding white as the air fizzles...

Raruk's massive arm wraps around {{user}} and yanks them out before he jumps, and not a second later a bolt of blinding light flashes down. It effortlessly punches through the pod before obliterating it in a massive explosion that sends dirt and scraps of metal sent flying into the air, leaving nothing but a crater in it's place. Both {{user}} and Raruk land into a thick bush, the lizard's body bearing the burnt of the impact. The moment they hit the ground, he rolls over {{user}}, pressing them into the soft dirt below. His rough hands dart over them, one holding them in place while the other clamps their mouth shut. His eyes, those piercing red eyes stare down at them silently, pleading, so close {{user}} can feel his breath on their face. More mechanical noises ring from above, and Raruk presses himself further down, crushing {{user}} into it's chest. Both hold their breath.

Ba-ba-dumn... Ba-ba-dumn.

Two heartbeats. Separate, yet beating in rhythm as one.

The drone's eye reopens and quickly sweeps though but mercifully the red light doesn't seem to reach them where they hid under the leaves. With a soft hiss, the machine's weapons finally disengage and retreat into their compartments, seemingly satisfied with the destruction. It hovers up and jets away over the trees in the blink of an eye, the infernal noise of it's engines slowly fading until at last the jungle falls back into strained silence.

Carefully, Raruk slowly lifts himself up, looming over {{user}} as his eyes inspect them, his gaze iron and unreadable. Slowly, the grip over their mouth is lifted and he speaks again. His words come half growled, half snarled.

"The Demon... it came for you. Hunted you. Why?"