When the Dead Sing
16 Dec 2024Rawnu
I’ve visited them all now. All seven fallen Titans—supposedly dead, their hulking remains still casting shadows across the void. Each one hums, the signal clear as day on the FSS scanner. I didn’t want to believe the news from various other Commanders at first—residual noise, I told myself. Feedback, interference. But the pattern I was seeing for myself is too clean, too deliberate. Out of supercruise, within the graveyards, it’s more than just a signal. It’s… music. Not human music, of course, but something alive—something layered, harmonic, almost mournful. Eerie and vast, like a choir echoing across the cold dark. And it is... in my head. Something is happening, and it’s bigger than any of us.We’re standing at a crossroads—the edge of war, or the edge of understanding. Humanity is so close to claiming victory, but I can’t shake the feeling that victory isn’t what we think it is. If these signals are the start of something new—the next phase of the Thargoid plan—then every Titan we destroyed may have pushed them closer to it. What happens when Cocijo falls? Will my visions of Earth in ashes come to pass? What wakes up then? And yet… maybe this is something else. Maybe this is the last chance to stop. To listen. To end this war on terms we haven’t even tried to imagine yet.
The best we can hope is this: the signals might be a Thargoid attempt at communication—a final, desperate outreach before escalation. The harmony, the structure, the music—it feels deliberate, intentional. Could they be asking for peace? Are they trying to tell us something we don’t yet understand? If we can decode it—if we can listen instead of firing—we might find a way to coexist. Maybe the Titans weren’t weapons, but something else entirely—something we never took the time to comprehend. If there’s a chance to stop this war without more bloodshed, without risking Earth, we have to take it. Just stop the shooting for a moment of clarity. Just that.
I could be mistaken, however, and all of this is a sign for the worst that is yet to come. The music, for all its beauty, could also be a warning. A countdown. A resurrection. What if the Titans are reawakening? What if their destruction triggered a failsafe, and this signal is the start of their regeneration? I’ve seen the graveyards—hulking, ruined, but still… alive in their own way. This could be the Thargoids’ plan all along. Worse still, what if the signals are a summons? Beacons calling reinforcements from the depths of space. What we’ve fought so far may only have been the first wave, a test, a distraction. The music could be their hive mind aligning, preparing to respond in force. And if they come, they won’t stop at Cocijo. Earth, Achenar, Alioth, every human world will burn.
So where do we stand?
I’ve never felt smaller than I do now, drifting through these Titan graveyards, listening to their ghostly music. Humanity thinks we’ve won, but we don’t understand the shape of this war, or the enemy we’re fighting. Are the Titans mourning, or waking? Is this a plea for peace, or the first movement in a new offensive? I don’t know. But I know this: the next step could decide everything.
If Cocijo falls, there may be no turning back. For now, I listen. I wait. And I hope. Because if this really is our last chance to end the war on peaceful terms, then we owe it to ourselves—to everyone—to try. But if it isn’t, if this is their next move, then we have to be ready for what comes next.
The signals are rising. The Titans hum their eerie melody. Something is coming.