I once beat the game. By that I mean I systematically conquered every single empire, (including FE’s) killed all the marauders before they could awaken, and slaughtered the Prethoryn Queen and kept its head as a trophy.
But I didn’t stop there. I then decided that the galaxy ‘belonged to the nords’ and committed mass genocide. I killed every single species that wasn’t my main species. Including the ones who were with me since the beginning of the game.
I turned them into food, or stuck them in the mines until they died of exhaustion, or just put them in front of the firing squad. I decided the execution depending on how much trouble their former empire gave me or just how much I despised them.
But as they slowly died off I wanted to do a social experiment. So I made two vassals out of the ashes of the empires who gave me the most trouble after sticking them all on one planet I released them.
I invaded the first one with Xenomorphs after waiting for their planets to build max defense armies and watched as their last hope died when their armies and pops were torn apart. Obviously I killed the survivors after they were conquered anyway.
And for the Second I just blew them up with a colossus. All they could do is stare up in the sky as the super weapon slowly charged up and annihilated every trace of their people, history, and culture.
And when it was all over I knew my work was done. And moved on to my next galaxy leaving the ashes of destruction to follow in my wake.
In the beginning I remembered that all I wanted was to be left alone. To grow and expand peacefully growing my superior race to perfection. But the other empires attacked me. Shamed me. Despised me. That’s when it started. That’s when peace died.
I saved the galaxy from Crisis after Crisis. And for what? For senseless slaughter? For revenge? I realized that it was inevitable. The moment we turned on each other the galaxy was destined to die a fiery death. And not with screams or gunfire. But harrowing silence.
This is how your games always end. Even if you aren’t there to see it.
Perhaps one day life will once again flourish in the galaxy. Perhaps these new creatures who grew from the shoulders of giants will one day fly and spread among the stars. Perhaps they will one day find you.
A empire who had long since fallen into a eternal sleep. Once you owned the stars but have since retreated to your first few systems.
They will regard you as a giant that must not be awakened. They will avoid you. Fear you. Envy you. But they will never know what you have done and what made you into this hollow shell of your former self.
You regard them as motes of dust that will blow away in the wind just like all that came before them.
The cycle repeats.
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