Pluto was a strange civilization of cold fingered beings that no one seemed to know. They lived alone, wandering the barren ice fields. The creatures only moved low to the ground, avoiding the wind and trying to stay as near to the only gases there are as much as possible. They were small beings, though long and slender, they only reached to a maximum of three feet tall. Their forms remind some of field mice: large eyes, long hooked tails, and long, sharp claws to help them maneuver around the ice rock of a planet.
The colony on Pluto started as a joke almost, a sort of last effort made by the people of Earth to give a sort of remembrance to the dwarf planet. Even though humanity had evolved in unimaginable ways from their ancestors, they still held dear the most absurd things, such as icy rocks orbiting the Sun at the edge of their solar system. All it was was an inanimate sphere that didn’t have an opinion, yet as soon as they could, the people of Earth made a species to inhabit it. That was their way of expansion now; instead of finding a planet that they could inhabit, they made customized species that could inhabit any planet. Aliens never existed, and because they were unhappy with that thought, humanity made their own.
Back to Pluto. It was the first colony they wanted to make, so for many decades they studied Pluto’s terrain, gas makeup, sources of food, and everything they deemed necessary for living on a planet. They succeeded after a while, then sent a small group of 36 Plutopers, as they called them, onto the frozen surface of Pluto. While humanity saw this place as a cold hell, the creatures found it to be quite enjoyable.
Centuries passed, humanity grew, and their strange alien empire expanded. The newly made beings made their own forms of civilization, government, and inventions. Everything flourished, all except Pluto. The Plutopers indefinitely had a basic system of life, such as starting a family, having a home, gathering food, and in general multiplying, but nothing seemed to come from it. There was no ambition in these creatures’ souls. No matter what came to them, they never changed, they just kept walking across their ice planet, living alone, since no one cared for them.
But one day, on the brightest day of Pluto, a certain Plutoper stood a little higher, breathed a little deeper, groaned a little louder, then he began to sing. The rest followed, singing their song to the Sun, to the stars, and to humanity, their creators, and to them, their gods. That day a rational ambition spread throughout that colony. They wanted to join their gods, be equal with them; they wanted to know humanity and speak to humanity. This was the ambition of the Plutopers, the ambition that would lead to the end of Pluto.
The Plutopers finally began to grow in mind, something they had never managed to do before. The decades passed by, until one creature rose from the rest. He was called One. The Plutopers did not give names to each other, they simply grunted at a certain one a certain way, so his real “name” was not One, but was a grunt that sounded like One when you strained your ears to hear it. One was special to the history of the Plutopers because he caused the language spread in their colony. Up to this point, grunts vaguely signified what a creature might have wanted, but One showed them all a way to accurately show what must be done. He did not know a lot, but he did know that humanity was out there, somewhere in the stars, and he wanted to find them. He refused to let their gods hide in the unknown expanse any longer, so he planned to venture out and find them.
As One grew, he learned more than what the entire colony on Pluto had learned in their millennia of existence. He proclaimed that he had been touched by the gods with the start of what would be the ascension of the Plutopers. He inspired the entirety of the colony and taught them his ideas. He preached of a Vessel to carry them across the waves of existence, the mountains of time, and through the mind itself. His words inspired the colony of Plutopers, so they decided to follow him, doing whatever he told them to do. The years went on and the Plutopers became a civilization of labor and philosophy. Under One’s instruction, the creatures worked and grew. Years turned to decades, decades to centuries. Their development grew steadily, eventually making cities and relations that would have never been possible to their ancestors.
Eventually, One died, as all do. Of course, he lasted for a good five centuries, but that was all he could manage. What he left behind was a crowd without an instructor. For a few decades the Plutopers simply stopped developing and lived their normal lives. Until one day, on the brightest day of Pluto, one Plutoper sang louder than the rest. She was known as Two. Two rose and fulfilled the same role and responsibilities that One had established, proclaiming she had a mental connection with the gods above also. She instructed the colony in the ways of One, coming closer to the Vessel that would raise them to the stars. Plutopers came and went, each serving their purpose in life as a developer towards ascension. No one questioned anything, they simply worked until they died.
Two followed One into the dark oblivion of death. The process repeated, centuries passed, and another Plutoper rose to the role of their leader. His name was Three, and he was not like his predecessors. Three made changes to the colony’s objective. Three preached not of ascension to live with the gods, but of ascension to overtake the gods. Why are these beings hiding in the Oblivion? Are they afraid of what they created? Are they disgusted by us? No one can be better than us. We are the superior race. Just because you are our creators does not mean you are our superiors. No one can stand in our way. We are our own gods now. We are gods.
The colony followed every word he said, centuries of labor under instruction had wired their brains to follow whoever spoke. Rebellion did not rise in any individual, because the Plutoper who led them was the rebel, the rebel of living the common way of the colony.
Now the Plutopers’ ambition had shifted. It was no longer one of seeking equality and peace, but one of blinding rage and destruction. With this ambition burning the brightest within Three, he set out to build the Vessel and be the hero of Pluto.
After three decades, the Vessel was completed. It was a large sphere, a third of it planted into the ice so the winds wouldn’t destroy it. After a near millennium of labor, the sphere reigned over the colony, built from the resources found inside the planets core. Three sat and basked in its glory for days, completely still and quiet. While his body remained frozen, his mind raced. He thought of the gods, rage overtaking him, nearly making him tremble, but not quite. He thought of the colony, the Plutopers, and his predecessors. He reflected at how blind they all had been, believing the lies the gods had set before them. And finally, Three reflected on what he would do after he surpassed the gods. He had no answer to the question, even though he spent days pondering the answer. The only answers he could muster scared him. They were ideas of oblivion and disappointment, but he knew that couldn’t be all. For God’s sake, there had to be more than that after defeating your own creators!
After sitting there for five days and nights, he approached the Vessel. The colony slowly gathered around him, silence overtaking the Plutopers. Three walked up to the sphere, stared at it once more, then walked through its surface, not once looking back at the colony. A few others tried to enter with him, but the surface did not allow them through. The creatures backed away, saying Three would come back for them when he was finished with his mission. This was, of course, a false hope.
As Three entered the Vessel, he glanced around at the interior. He was only familiar with parts of it, most of it was built by the Plutopers before him. He made his way to the control deck. While the sphere was large, most of the inside consisted of intricate technology which allowed for the ascension. The inside was minimal and really was just a living quarters for as many Plutopers that could fit, but Three was the only one there that day. The control deck was a bright spherical room decorated with various devices that would align your mind with your inner soul, allowing the process of ascension to begin. Three glanced at it all, the instructions engraved in his mind. He jumped all over the controls, flipping switches, pushing buttons, putting in codes, everything imaginable to turn something on was there. He finished, breathing heavily, excitement and anxiety overtaking him. This was it. His dreams were becoming a reality. All that was left was to eat the tablet of Core Dust and his brain waves would be in sync with the universe. He slipped the tab into his mouth and fell into the universe.
There was a rush of color, vibrations shook his body, whispers, screams, moans, every sound filled his head. He screamed into the oblivion, not knowing what else to do. After what seemed like years of endless discomfort and confusion, everything came to a rapid stop. Three was suddenly left in utter darkness. The only things there with him were two figures. As he stared at them, he realized they were two Plutopers. The first approached him, slow and shaky. The creature looked Three up and down, taking a good minute to examine him before saying anything. He shook his head and spoke. He told his story, how he was the start of the colony’s education and ambition, the start of their search for the gods.
“But what happened with you? There is no way One and Three can possibly be so different. You aren’t even worthy to look at the gods, what makes you think you can defeat them? I do not accept you. I hope the rest of our species feels the same. I give you one chance to turn back, return to the colony, repent of your ways. The philosophy of hatred and hopelessness is what the gods worked so hard to avoid, and yet here you are, their first creation, falling into the footsteps of what they knew and feared most. So turn back, while you still can. Change your mind.”
Three only looked away, anger overtaking his soul, blocking out any rational thought that could have entered his mind. This had to be a test sent from the gods to try and derail him from his mission. He refused to look at One, as is the way of the fool in front of the wise. Attention is simply too hard for an idiot to give.
With that, One faded away, returning back to the black oblivion that is death, never to return. His soul mourned for Pluto. No planet should have to suffer such an abomination to inhabit it. With a sigh, One went away.
The other creature approached Three, who was now looking away into the void, anxious about the next test. That was all rational thinking was, simply tests made to distract the brain from its objective. This in mind, Three gained some confidence and faced the second creature. She looked at him and told her story, of her satisfaction of what she saw the colony accomplish.
“Together, it seemed we could do anything. Build a home, gather an outrageous amount of resources, come up with solutions to the many problems of the universe, even reach up to the stars and touch the gods. Under my guidance, the colony flourished. But with you instructing them, they have forgotten all the ways of philosophy, teamwork, love. All they know now is blind hatred towards a being they don’t even fully understand because they have abandoned reason! You will be the end of our race, our culture, our existence. You will truly be the disappointment that everyone once feared to be to the gods. Turn back now, there is still hope for repentance. Just please, know the gods cannot be defeated.”
Three stared at Two in defiance. There was no shame or anxiety in his being anymore, only rage and toxic ambition. Nothing could stand in his way. He would become greater than the gods.
Three dismissed her, and she faded away into non-existence. He was alone again. Not knowing what to do, he wandered around, looking for the gods. His walk became a jog, his jog a run, then his run a sprint, unrelentless passion overtaking his body. He ran for miles upon miles, singing the song of the Plutopers as he sought his creators.
Three managed the unthinkable. He reached the end of the void and found a small light. It was warm, about the size of his heart, yet it emitted a tremendous energy. This energy filled Three, giving him a sensation he had never felt before. It was hot and cold at the same time, it filled him with light and darkness, and gave him a sense of everything that was around him. The light spoke to him, whispering the thoughts of all the souls wandering around him. He understood none of it and simply followed the light, blocking out any voice that might change his mind. Three enjoyed the light.
After a while of trailing it, he came to a stop as he saw a giant source of light directly in front of him. It was bigger and brighter than anything he had seen before, larger than the sun, larger than his home, larger than life itself. The smaller light joined the larger, causing the light to surround him completely. The light seemed to speak to him, not in one singular voice, but the voice of millions speaking together in all directions imaginable. It was enough to drive someone crazy, but the mind of a raging idiot is one that is already as crazy as it can get. Three feared the light because he knew what it was. These were his gods, and they were no longer hiding.
“Three. This is Three. Three. We give you one more chance to stop what you are doing. Surpassing your gods is not an easy task to accomplish. Are you sure you wish to continue?”
Three let his rage build again. Even in the face of his creators, he disobeyed. Even surrounded by reason and warmth, he recoiled. Even when given mercy, he rebelled.
“So be it. Here you are then. Surpass us. Because the only thing that is greater than our existence is not existing at all. Your blind rage and deception has led to your downfall. Now, I hope you enjoy immortality in the memories of no one.”
With that last remark, Three was slung back into consciousness. The Vessel surrounded him, glowing a bright red. In the next few seconds, the core of Pluto collapsed from the colony’s delusion with the gods. Pluto died that day, all because of the folly in the primitive minds of those who do not know how to control one’s ambition. Pluto is simply a dull memory in the back of humanity’s mind, a testimony to what could have happened to them. Always follow reason, because reason is what would have saved Pluto.