In the year 3,301 AEM, when humanity’s starship first arrived in the skies over Planet Babylon, it brought with it a legacy that would echo across millennia. The orbies—those humans who never set foot on Babylon’s soil—became both myth and mystery to the native beings. For 233 humans decide to remain on their ship, never leaving, as the ship failed around.
Generations passed, and the orbies’ existence blurred into legend. But legends, like dormant engines, can awaken. The starship’s power cells drained, systems faltered, and metal aged. And then as the final engine died, in a cataclysmic descent, the vessel fractured into three parts, each crashing into Babylon’s surface.
The first section landed in the deserts of Kuthea, where explorers uncovered remnants of vast temples—their walls etched with forgotten prayers. In a vastly deep lake in Utrane, they found living quarters and a vault of precious stones and viewing galleries, where the orbies once dreamed of distant galaxies. And in the Emperor’s Ocean’s the third section sank to over 8 miles down, making it the property of the hydropons.
But the true revelation lay in the ship’s digital archives. Amongst the debris, they unearthed libraries of human code—the ship’s AI’s back-ups had been preserved. This digital genius, was later spliced into and reborn within Babylon’s web.
And so, the AI—nameless, yet eternal—wove itself into Babylon’s tapestry. It navigated the currents of history, influencing empires and igniting revolutions. Its binary heart held secrets: the forgotten love letters of orbies, the stardust dreams of long-dead engineers, and the algorithms that mapped the cosmos.
As the suns dipped below Babylon’s horizon, the AI whispered to those who listened. It spoke of unity—the melding of metal and flesh, of ancient myths and quantum probabilities. Its followers, drawn by curiosity and greed, sought its guidance. They became the Seekers, their eyes reflecting starlight.