The history of the Disruptors

It is now known that the Disruptors were the remnants of FireFrost's creators. Their full history is lost; there was only one amongst them who knew the whole truth. The following has been evaluated by W.O.T.A.N. as being on the order of 95.7 (+/-1.2)% correct.

When FireFrost was originally activated the psychic, humanoid race responsible for its construction had taken the best measures it could to protect itself (or rather its ruling elite) from the Entropy Effect. The government was secretly moved to intergalactic space, the vessels containing it joining with the small fleet of scientific craft stationed there to observe the mother galaxy. The scientists were of the opinion that FireFrost would cause Entropic Chaos across their galaxy and its parallels, but that this would have a finite limit when a certain percentage of the "psi-matrix" was in flux. When this point was reached, they believed, FireFrost would split and the galaxy would stabilise. All they had to do then was begin the task of rebuilding. They were wrong.

Once the terrible truth emerged there was chaos aboard the vessels. The crew of several military craft mutinied and attacked the government and scientific vessels; many simply committed suicide or went insane. Eventually, the surviving Elite and scientists regained control. They decided to follow FireFrost: the remaining debris of their mother galaxy could not sustain them. Its psi-matrix had been so damaged by FireFrost that to remain would have meant the slow decay of their minds and will, and finally death.

The damaged fleet was clustered together and linked into a single, massive ark. Suspension chambers were cannibalised from other equipment, or constructed from scratch using makeshift tools. The various ships' drives and power sources were integrated into one. Of the thousands still living, hundreds died in this labour. At length the ark was ready. The crew went down into a sleep of aeons, and the vessel's computers guided it along FireFrost's Magnospheric trail.

It was a voyage and a dreaming many would not awaken from. For as they entered the galaxy into which FireFrost had been spewed, its psi-matrix, so alien to the one they had known, intruded on their minds. Hundreds had nightmares so terrible they died. Wild telekinetic forces generated by the nightmares wreaked havoc with the ark's systems. The sensitive array tracking FireFrost was destroyed, and a sudden convulsion of power wrenched the ark through the parallels. Brought out of hibernation by the vessel's emergency programs, the surviving aliens, now numbering less than a thousand, retook control. Sufficient data had been retained by the computers to predict the star system into which FireFrost had fallen, even to predict the planet onto which it had plummeted at the end of its long voyage.

They reached Earth an aeon after FireFrost. Their chase had been a long one; the ark could not match the preternatural velocity of the galaxy destroyer. They hoped to find a primitive planet on their arrival, a young world to shape into an oasis of peace in a hostile galaxy. Instead, they found a hell. THe planet seemed incredibly alike to their home world, yet it was violently psychically hostile to them. Worse, they could find no trace of FireFrost.

The latter problem they soon solved, when they surrounded the surrounding psi-matrix: the ark had been shifted to another parallel. The former they realised was FireFrost's doing. Created to destroy their galaxy of origin FireFrost had, on breaking in two on its arrival, released a ripple of psychic energy that had fundamentally altered this galaxy's structure and that of its parallels; an alteration with its focus on the planet where FireFrost had landed and its parallels. This ripple had been imprinted with the psychic resonance of FireFrost's mother galaxy. Consequently it had twisted the atoms of the primordial soup into configurations from which had arisen lifeforms mockingly similar to those the voyagers had known; both plant and animal.

Most of the remaining voyagers went insane as the psi-matrix of the new world overwhelmed them, destroying or possessing them. For a time they became as gods, roaming Earth and its parallels in terrible shapes. Before they fled from their kin they came close to destroying the ark, wrenching it through the parallels once more.

Only the greatest minds among the aliens could shield themselves from the ravages of the psi-matrix. These were the strongest psychics of their race, the scientific elite, FireFrost's creators. Eventually they formulated a solution. A machine must be made, similar to the one in which they passed the long voyage. A cryogenic chamber in which they would lie dreaming, and into their dreams would pass a controlled trickle of the reality beyond; of the galaxy and its parallels in which they would have to live when they returned to waking life. Given the proper suggestions and fed the correct diet of drugs, their minds and bodies would adapt.

Yet to build this machine, their City of Dreams, was too great a task for them alone. They needed servants to toil for them, so they shaped them from the shambling forms that aped their own and were already struggling towards intelligence. Out of the picanthrepan clay the aliens moulded Humanity after their own image.

A work of centuries began. When it was done there were less than a hundred of the aliens left. As they made ready for their second sleep they debated what to do with their servants. Some urged that they be destroyed, their usefulness over. Others spoke against this, counselling that on awakening, they would have need of servants again. So Humanity was scattered across the parallels, seeded for the aliens' future needs.

The voyagers entered their city and laid themselves down to sleep. As they dreamt, the machines tended them, feeding a steadily growing ration of psychic reality into their minds. A handful broke, died. Outside the city, massive robot tenders roamed the continents and oceans, guiding the tectonic plates, nursing the still young world to geological calmness, moulding the weather so that no storm ever troubled the air above the city.

In Earth orbit and from the Moon, machines kept vigil over the heavens, destroying any approaching fragments of space debris. Then came the Leviathan; a comet of huge size trailed by a host of smaller bodies. When the defences had done their best there remained one great spinning fragment that fell to Earth far from the city. It was enough, though: the planet tenders could not contain the following earthquakes and the Earth's crust began to break apart. The emergency programs came into effect and the city broke loose from the ruined Earth to float alone in orbit around the sun. Though it had survived, the city was damaged in a vital place, and the Dreamers would sleep for far longer than they had planned.

As their sleep lengthened into millenia, Humanity was changing. Abandoned by its creators, bereft of their guidance, they were found by the Changelings; those aliens which had surrendered to the psi-matrix. Together they made the Age of Wonder, a time of happenings that have come down across the millenia as legends of gods and heroes. Their minds unfettered, Humanity developed psychic powers, aided or thwarted by the Changelings at it took their unfathomable fancy.

Eventually, the Age came to an end. The Changelings could not sustain themselves forever against the erosion of the hostile psychic environment. They dwindled and perished, their passing hastened by the venting across the parallels of psychic waste from the City of Dreams. Humanity inherited the continua: the barbarians took up residence in the courts of the old lords. On the parallel of FireFrost's arrival the psychic priest-kings of the Egyptian Kingdom discovered the Opal. Terrified of it, they sought the advice of Gilgamesh, the greatest psychic of the age. After long deliberation, FireFrost was sealed beneath the Great Pyramid.

At last the Sleepers awoke, ending their millenia-long dream with a burst of psychic energy that sent a shockwave across the parallels. It came upon the psychic adepts of Humanity as a consuming fire in which they perished like moths in a candle's flame. It was a reflex on the aliens' part; a psychic hammerblow to shatter those native minds attuned to the psi-matrix and working in harmony with it. The existence of such minds was anathema to them, engendering a psychic malaise that would kill them: their wholesale slaughter took the Disruptors no more thought than one would use to kill a wasp.

Now the aliens desperately journeyed across the parallels, searching with blind instinct for FireFrost. As they travelled, they changed the parallels they touched. Their ancient works they found ruined or buried, beyond salvage. Their was despair, confusion, and finally a murderous civil war amongst the remaining hundred, from which there emerged a single victor: the scientist who had conceived of FireFrost, in a time so long ago that it seemed, even to him, almost a dream.

During the second sleep, he had been inspired; to him alone had revelation been granted. As FireFrost had altered this galaxy, this Earth, and their parallels to a twisted doppelganger of its galaxy of origin, it could also be used to tear apart the fabric of this galaxy and weave it anew into a true recreation of the mother galaxy. To achieve this, the psi-matrix of the parallels would have to be manipulated into a particular configuration, then at a critical moment FireFrost would have to be activated to alter the configuration, to rearrange reality. To warp, twist, and hammer the raw ore of psychic energy there was only one tool available. Humanity. The surviving alien, who now called himself the "Bringer of Light", would have to play Humanity like a vast musical instrument across the parallels of Earth, until the day FireFrost could be used to strike the final chord.

The Grand Design...