The Revelation : Echoes of the Dark Void

A Forbidden Message from the Past

The video log begins.

The screen flickers before stabilizing, revealing a man in his late 40s—disheveled, pale, and weak—sitting in a dimly lit laboratory. Behind him, broken and neglected scientific equipment litters the space. His voice trembles, but his eyes are filled with urgency.

"To whoever finds this—"

He pauses briefly, trying to steady his breath, as though each word takes immense effort.

"I don't know if anyone will ever hear this. I don't know if our species will survive what's coming. But if you're seeing this... it means I'm dead. I hope you understand—once, we were a great civilization. We reached for the stars, believed we were masters of the universe, but we were wrong."

He looks off-screen, his expression pained, as though lost in thought.

"Thirty-two centuries ago, humanity's population numbered in the trillions. We thrived, expanded, colonized... until the day we realized we were never meant to be free. We weren't alone in the universe, and we weren't prepared for what we found."

He takes a deep breath, his voice cracking.

"We thought we were safe. For millennia, we explored the cosmos, grew stronger, more capable. But the truth... the truth was always out there, hiding, waiting to be uncovered. I discovered it too late—too late to stop what's coming."

His eyes narrow, a mixture of fear and anger in his gaze.

"There are beings out there, far more powerful than us. They call themselves gods. And every 10,000 years, they return. They harvest what we've built, they collect us—our souls. They call it The Revelation."

He wipes his face with his sleeve, his voice distant, almost defeated.

"We fought. We struggled to survive. We ran, we hid. But it didn't matter. No matter where we went, they always found us. Always. Until we learned the truth."

He leans closer to the camera, urgency in his voice.

"These so-called gods were no gods at all. They were like us, but more powerful. And they created us—to feed on us. To harvest our souls for their own eternity. We were never meant to thrive. We were livestock. That's why they return every 10,000 years."

His face hardens, a flicker of hope in his voice.

"But we fought back. We found a place to hide—behind black holes. We built colonies in secret, safe from their gaze. We thought we were safe, but time... time is cruel. Out here, time moves differently. Years pass in the blink of an eye for the rest of the universe, but for us..."

He looks down, exhausted. When he meets the camera again, his voice cracks.

"It's been years for us, though it feels like an eternity. While we've lived only a handful of years, out there, the universe has carried on—3,200 years have passed. The Revelation is coming again, and we have just five more years before they return."

He looks directly into the camera, eyes wide with deep fear.

"You don't understand—time is the enemy. The population is growing. The battle is coming, and I don't know if we will survive this time. I can only hope... I can only hope that someone, somewhere, will be able to fight when it's over."