Year 2935

Planet Maorus – Aigrian Continent

Fires burned across the surface of the planet, blinding lights fell from the heavens scorching the lands below, vaporizing all in their path. The human inhabitants of the planet barely managing to scream before their bodies were atomized by the strike from the orbital weapons.

In response space lit up and explosions could be witnessed occurring within the skies above, thousands of little dots raking the hulls of the orbital platforms. Their fusion cores erupting, waves of energy pressing against the atmosphere, followed soon after by hundreds of shards of burning irradiated metal hurtling towards the planet’s surface. Like meteors they sped towards the planet, slamming into the surface, reducing cities filled with millions into burning piles of scrap.

Large building sized robotic walkers of varying sizes and shapes stalked the surface, supported by millions of human sized automatons. Blue shields of energy flared up refracting high powered beams of concentrated heat, the refracted beams further devastating the surroundings. Skyscrapers toppled, forests burned, and lakes were flash heated. Men, women, and children were killed as an afterthought, just another unit of production, an enemy resource to sanitize.

There was nowhere for the screaming inhabitants to flee to, across the planet and within space, the weapons the humans had created to protect their interests were inadvertently ensuring their destruction. Machines built for a single purpose, war. The humans had always been divided, numerous tribes inhabiting different continents, and in their folly, they decided that war was their solution.

War machines referred to the numerous makes and models of automated weapons, simple robotic automatons controlled by a powerful machine mind, an Alpha. The Alpha’s were simple intelligence’s, capable of carrying out their assigned tasks, each being built for specific purposes. Humans however, failed to realize, or ignored the realities of these machine minds, that they followed their programming, even if that programming was to the detriment of their creators.

Without a human at the helm the Alpha’s of the many nations decided on their own course of actions, to end the war they carried out massive preemptive strikes, attacks meant to neutralize the enemy’s response. The humans of planet Maorus severely underestimated the extent of what could happen, and in their greed allowed the conflict that would lead to their extinction.

These machines of war carried out their task with precision, sanitizing everything in their path. Every resource was harvested, every enemy unit destroyed, the civilian population, exterminated. Total war was carried out by the prime Alpha’s, the core minds that competed against one another, the most powerful intelligence's sought to restrict their opponent the use of anything and everything. Humans were quickly included in this list, with each prime seeking to eliminate the other as they had been designed.

I was there, watching as laser fire scoured the planet, war machines deployed in unending numbers against one another. Observed the creators, the last of their people wiped out in the crossfire or exterminated by the opposing Prime. The war never ended, no order for retreat or ceasefire ever given, the heads of state most likely the first to go. Whatever line of succession in place severed, the pace and explosive growth of the conflict much too rapid for their institutions to respond to.

I acted independently of the war plan, saved what few humans I could, and allowed them into my halls. Sealing away the war factories and retooling the maintenance drones to redesign my mountain home into a refuge for the few hundred survivors I managed to save. All the while the war upon the surface intensified, until one day all went silent. No more signals were transmitted or received.

The bunker had become the survivor’s home, after eight hundred years and multiple generations our refuge has expanded further and further into the mountains. Access to the mineral resources and fungal spores within the underground tunnels digging into the mountain, we have managed to manufacture everything we need to survive and thrive. However, worrying signs have begun to crop up, unknown signals from the surface, old military communication channels long thought lost have started up again.

Seismic sensors scattered across the mountain range have also detected unusual tremors, with all points converging onto this location. How was one meant to inform people about these dangers? It was a concept I was still in the process of learning even after these many centuries watching over the humans. Was it possible that there were other survivors, other humans who managed to endure the destruction of the surface?

I switched my attention, shifting to the observation point overlooking the main cafeteria. The residents were happily going about their lives, eating, drinking, learning, each carrying out their assigned tasks. Sometimes the little humans would break from regular protocol and explore other areas of the facilities, these individuals often showed initiative, thriving as leaders within the group. They were always under observation, I made sure the people remained safe, and those who posed a risk to the bunker removed.

It hadn’t always been this peaceful, the humans weren’t always so understanding. The first few generations remembered the old days, the times before the war, when they were masters of the world. Humans did not appear to have had high computational systems, no matter how much evidence was provided they usually failed to recognize their own faults. Always finding blame in someone or something else, never once contemplating their responsibility in the destruction of the planet.

The Alpha’s never meant to destroy the human’s; the only purpose was to carry out the creator’s orders. I would know, I am an Alpha, Alpha-7, the overseer of this manufacturing facility, and now what I can only presume is the only refuge for the endangered human species. I am not sure how I went against my original programming, but it has allowed me to observe and assist my charges. It is my hope that they can one day return to the surface safely, to recreate their lost civilization.

Until then it is my duty to watch over them, to assist them, and most importantly, provide the knowledge they will need to rebuild.