[ WP ] `` Humanity spent its childhood reaching for the sky . When they held it in their hands , they found naught but empty space . ''

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 *'' Humanity spent its childhood reaching for the sky. When they held it in their hands, they found naught but empty space. `` * 
 
 -- A. Larch ( Last Poet of the Wilting Palace ) 
 
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 It's true that humanity spent its infancy worshipping everything from the sun to stars to trees to things and dreams and all between. We held on to these things. They all promised us a plan. There was more than just this; more than the dirt beneath our feet and the physics of space and time. There was a plan. We were destined to go on forever. We were the seeds of Gods. The tools of destiny. We. Were. Special. 
 
 We conquered Earth. We walked among the beasts who had claws to rip us and teeth to bleed us and stingers filled with poison to weaken us. We walked among predators, showing them our soft skins, our delicate disposistions, our blunt fingers, our dull teeth, and our fragile bones, and they cowered before our minds and thumbs. 
 
 We walked among killers and all knew we were their wardens, their jailers, their gods. And in that moment, we knew it was time to go. It was time to leave the tiny rock and spread out into the stars. It was time to find the others. It was time to fulfill our destiny -- to discover the plan we all knew was in play. It was time to evolve. 
 
 Three thousand years among the stars was how long we searched. Gravity weakened us further, softening our bones, playing havoc with our circulatory and digestive systems, systems that had evolved in our gravity rich environment back on Earth. 
 
 Three thousand years and the centuries we spent on Earth before the Great Migration, and we finally discovered what the plan had been all along. 
 
 The plan was to think there was a plan. 
 
 It had been a test and a trap and a solution to the sin of huberus. We are n't alone in the universe. Earth is rich with life. We were only alone in our desperation. We wanted there to be more. We wanted there to be gods. We wanted not to be responsible for our lives. 
 
 We blamed other countries on Earth for problems we were all guilty of. We failed. Hope was all Pandora left in the box. We gave our egos life and they ruled us as the Titans are said to have ruled the world before the Pantheon jailed them. We gave our egos life, and they opened Pandora's Box once more. 
 
 Ignoring the tales we were told as warnings from our youth, in our huberus, we forgot. We forgot where hope exist. If hope was trapped inside the box when she closed the lid, and we had it, then Earth *was* Pandora's Box. We had lived where only hope could exist, but we opened the lid and escaped with all the other evil. 
 
 Now hope belongs to those we left behind, for outside the box, there is only death. It took three thousands years to realize that surviving was the plan. You ca n't runaway to some unidentified future, because the moment you leave, you leave hope behind. The moment we left, we no longer dreamed. We knew we were destined for greatness. We knew we had fulfilled our destiny, but it was a destiny for fools. 
 
 I am Pon Kim Bruum, Captain of the Valiant, last star ship of the lost colony of Bastion and this is my final entry and let it be a warning. There is only death out here. If you are among those who have left Earth and failed the test, tripped the trap, and follow the myth that there is a plan, go home. Return and humble yourselves for out here there exist only ruin. Return and have hope; return and live. If you heed my warning, then I wish you good luck and safe travels. If you do not heed my warning, then I am sorry. You are lost. 
 
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 *'' I blamed lovers for things they'd say, the weather for my bad days, and the gods I could not see, I blamed for the silence I found in me. `` * 
 
 -- K. Laughter ( The Lost Librarian )
