This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Ex-SoLs on 2025-09-30 23:42:28+00:00.

In all my years, nothing weighs heavier on my heart than the Black Zones. The archives say the Wars raged for over a full rotation; the longest conflict ever theoriesed; and the only surviving testament to that cataclysm are these silent, lightless regions of space.

My life’s work has been to gather every scrap of information I can. Fragments of stories, myths, and records scattered across planets and star systems spanning entire galactic arms, and though the details shift with each retelling, the message is always the same. The Black Zones were the final, desperate act of the Precursors to end the War of Wars. The act that erased them from history. Their last stand. Their final gift, a monument to who they were, even in the dying seconds of their existence.

And yet, even with the almost limitless resources of the United Council, my research has been excruciatingly difficult. Most theories paint the Precursors as godlike beings. But I cannot believe that. Gods do not die. Do they?

What we do know is this: their empire spanned the galaxy. No matter where you travel, traces of them remain. Databanks, waiting patiently for the day a young race reaches the stars. Half crumbling outposts on forgotten moons. Devices and technologies seeded for a future they would never see; and scattered among these wonders, the debris of a war beyond comprehension.

Our only true knowledge of that war comes from one place, the Galactic Hub. A grand deep-space station built by the Precursors to endure a thousand millennia, a technological masterpiece. Inside, a single file buried deep in its systems; a file that took nearly one hundred cycles to decrypt. Even then, its contents were agonizingly vague.

Some legends claim the Precursors emerged from the very heart of the galaxy, bursting outward like a supernova to spread across the stars. Others say they were a coalition of many races united under one banner. But my many cycles in this role have led me to a different conclusion.

I believe they were one race. One people. One world. The first to leave their cradle and sail the stars, so very long ago that for ages they were utterly alone, and in their loneliness they built the databanks and outposts we now stumble upon, just breadcrumbs left for the children they hoped would one day join them in the sky.

They waited. They advanced beyond imagining, capable of raising wonders like the Galactic Hub itself. They waited so long they became nearly godlike in skill, crafts, engineering and patience. And then one day, they were no longer alone. Another race reached the stars. The Precursors welcomed them, shared all they had. But something went wrong. Something turned bitter. Two titans clashed, and their war shook the galaxy to its core.

Through eons they fought, both sides wielding the same devastating technologies. Entire worlds burned. Planets were glassed, turned to lifeless rock. But I cannot believe the Precursors; who watched and waited for new life to emerge; were the ones who unleashed such destruction on world possible for life. No. It must have been their enemy.

And so, even as the Precursors empire crumbled, even as extinction closed in, they made a final, terrible choice. They sacrificed themselves. They gave their lives to unleash some vast, unimaginable weapon, one powerful enough to destroy their foe, even at the cost of their own existence. The Black Zones are the scars of that act, swaths of deep space that warp and devour anything that dares to approach. Their graves. Their monument.

I believe this because of the file from the Hub, a file never meant to endure. Listen for yourself…

…

[Begin Audio File 001]

Static hisses. A faint klaxon echoes through the recording.

Voice 1 (male): Jennifer… Jen, what are you doing, my love? It’s almost time. We need to join the others before the station is purged.

Voice 2 (female): Oh, nothing. I’ll be with you in just a moment. Just some last-minute calibrations… I just want to make sure that… that…

Voice 1: I understand. Just please… I want us to be together when…

Voice 2: Of course. Eternity in your arms. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Go. I’ll be right there with you… go.

(Footsteps retreat. She exhales shakily.)

Right. Capacitor to the field… green. Perfect. That should keep the station dark until… until… Stars above, I thought I was prepared for this. I thought it would never happen.

[Intercom] All personnel report to designated shuttle cores. T-minus seven minutes to commencement.

Seven minutes. Seven minutes until we’re nothing but history. Doubling the dark matter feed… entanglement stable. Good. That should last until they come. I wonder what they’ll think of us?

Well. Goodbye, old girl. Treat them well for us, yeah? Tell them we’re sorry… tell them we had to. Let them use you for what we hoped. Humans had a good run, right? I wonder if they’ll even know who we—

Voice 1 (distant): JENNIFER! QUICKLY! They’ve already started in the Norma and Sagittarius Arms! They struck early! We need to go NOW!

[Intercom] Activation of antimatter devices detected in three—correction, five—sectors. Operation Terra Sacrificus commencing ahead of schedule. All personnel to shuttle cores immediately. Station purge in 10… 9…

Voice 2: I’m coming! Oh god… Computer, route final file codes to station deep frame. Remember us. Remember we wanted to meet y…static

[End Recording]

…

And that is it. The only real glimpse we have of what happened. A voice from the edge of extinction, a recording that should never have survived. Perhaps the last human voice the galaxy ever heard.

I wonder what they would think of us. Because I wanted to meet them.