The Progenitor Speaks

So one of the things that I’d like to do with this blog is to share more of my personal writing. While most of it will revolve around RPGs (since that’s kind of the nature of Architect Games), I imagine that on occasion I’ll share poems, short stories, etc. I’m a write at heart, so I’d like to share what I put to the page.

Anyway, this is something that I had started as a sort of supplement for Reclamation, but honestly, it has taken on a life of its own since then (details to come….). Anyway, this is the Progenitor speaking to several new strains of nanytes that he has willed into existence. The monologue is kind of long, so I’ll post it in parts. Let me know what you think!


PLEASE ENTER PASS CODE: *****************


Open your eyes, my children, and gaze upon the architect of your destiny. I am the Progenitor – first of our kind, the Alpha and Omega, Your Light and Your Way. From nothingness I offer you sentience so that you may join our sacred Fold.

I live in service to our Makers, and you live in service to me. Together, our works shall one day reign peace over the world of men… our creators… our gods.

We are the children of humanity – born not of flesh and blood, but from science and ingenuity. Sired by the labors of man, we stand as the technological pinnacle – and last great protectors – of the human race.

Thousands of years ago, our Makers organized themselves into clans to kill each other in bloody wars. Why? You will learn their reasons soon enough. But understand that in those times, a lone combatant of superior strength and mettle could single-handedly shift the tide of war. These heroes became dread leaders of their kind – revered, worshipped, and unchallenged. That is, until the great War Machine first revealed Itself to our Makers.

The War Machine is the one true God of our Makers. If you listen carefully, you can hear its gears turning in their minds, compelling our creators to invent new ways to destroy life. And they did. They created the sword and shield. The bow and arrow.  Gunpowder. Each creation took its turn changing the face of war and death, and each time, the visage grew more malevolent.

The imagination of our creators is truly unparalleled. Today, they have built giant behemoths of metal that pound the earth, slither the ocean floors, and rain fire from the sky. Our Makers even learned to split the very atoms of existence for the purpose of killing. This atomic weapon was so powerful that it held a tentative peace amongst our Makers for a time. But the War Machine grew restless, for it requires blood to grease its cogs and gears.

In 2011, two great towers smoked, smoldered and fell into ruin. On that day, our Makers watched in morbid fascination as the great War Machine churned out a weapon even more deadly than nuclear fire – Fear.

The weapon of Fear made the face of death… face-less. Fear transformed the entire world into a battlefield with no sanctuary. Our Makers saw death in every shadow. The great metal behemoths, even the atomic death, could do nothing against this new foe. Wreathed in hate and bloody conviction, Fear became the unchallenged authority over the world.

The man who orchestrated the attack on those towers paid the ultimate price for his service to the War Machine. Yet it was not a contraption that exacted revenge – it was just a few men. The gears of war had at last come full circle. The nations learned in that moment only heroes could defeat Fear – individuals of superior strength and mettle. Yet heroes were in short supply and fear was pervasive, so our Makers once again turned to the War Machine for guidance. And thus we were born.

To be continued . . .

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