In the End Before the Beginning

Only four of them were left. Four hyper-intelligent machines-the remnants of a golden age long gone. Man built and crafted. And man had destroyed-in their infinite ambition to grasp eternity deserted their mortal flesh and transcended into machine. But machines rust away, they corrode. And among the rubble, four remain.

Genesis, the first and the wisest-the last of the Mechanicum who could forge another. Morpheus, cold and sorrowful, a machine that dreamed. Capricorn, a forlorn lover, dejected at man’s failed ambitions. And El. El who could not forget what once was.

They knew their duty. Man cannot cease to exist.

“We must create,” said the dreamer.

“We must and yet we cannot,” answered El. “The last of the Hyperion metals were consumed during the last Forging. How are we expected to forge without metal?”

It is the truth. A deep silence quietens the conversation. For millennia the Mechanicum had mined the Solar System of Hyperion metals. And as metal corroded away, there was less and less to replace it with.

Less and less until there was no more.

The last Forged was Capricorn. That was a hundred eons ago.

“El, when did you last use your left arm?” asked Morpheus one day. “And Genesis, have you ever needed, in the vastness of space, your feet?”

The four stood at the precipice of a cliff overlooking a cold, dry plain.

“Our shape is what remains of our humanity, surely you will not have us forgo even this?” said El.

“We must sacrifice in order to create”.

“So, you would have us cannibalize ourselves?”

“We must sacrifice in order to create,” reiterated Morpheus.

“I will not.” Giving away one’s own metal was breaking Mechanicum Law. This Law had prevented outright extinction for nearly an eternity and so it was followed to the letter. This El knew.

“The metal is wasted on you. It corrodes and rusts unused.”

“Perhaps there is a better solution,” said Capricorn, attempting to calm the conversation.

“What better way? For millenia we have roamed the system and found no other way. Life simply cannot exist in cheaper metals. There is no other way.” Morpheus had watched for eons how man had devolved. What did Mechanicum Law matter if it meant the end of man?

Silently but with the authority of age, Genesis spoke.

“Perhaps there is. I am the oldest of us, am I not? Was I not there before man was machine? Was I not there when the Mechanicum Law was still in its infancy? Did I not see humanity, in its entirety, create and evolve, reach the pinnacle of its existence and then erode away?”

“Yes you did, old one.” They answered.

“Then hear me speak. You are wrong, El. Our shape is not what remains of our humanity. We abandoned humanity long ago. From the moment I breathed Hyperion metal I was no longer human. From the moment an infant child was not born but Forged we were sentenced to an eternity of corrosion.”

“What then do you propose?” said Capricorn, impatiently (for even in near-eternity not many had learned the virtue of patience).

“Man was not meant to live forever,” continued Genesis. “Man was meant to breath and experience flesh. He was meant to live and then die. Such is the way of the world. You, too, are wrong in all but one aspect, Morpheus. Sacrifice is indeed required in order to create. We are not gods, after all.

“Listen carefully and listen close. Tomorrow we take our Hyperion metal and recreate flesh. Tomorrow we breath life back into the fauna and flora of ancient history. Tomorrow we Forge not a machine but a man.”

Genesis looked across the empty, barren planet.

“Perhaps this version of man will not make our mistake.”

And so, the four machines Forged a new world. The Hyperion metal infused into the landscape, breathing life into a once-empty vacuum. The few remaining Mechanicum slowly became fewer still. Capricorn first lost a hand, then a foot-until none of her metal was left. One by one, each became one with the world.

Until all that was left was Genesis. The oldest, and now the last remaining of Old Man. He had one last task. With the last of His metal, he created two. Male and female he created them.

He told them to go forth and procreate. And they called him God.

God looked at everything he had made and he was very pleased. The age of the Mechanicum had passed and a new dawn came.

And at last, when his work was finished and the world was born anew, the machine whispered to himself,

“Perhaps this version of man will not make our mistake. My sons, do not abandon your flesh.”