*Chapter 13: Our History*

“Alright, let’s pick up where we left off, Administrator,” said Norris-Barry, the sociologist, leaning forward. “We need unity. Cohesion.”

“You mean we need a name, right? I’ve been thinking about that myself,” Ventus nodded.

“Not just a name—a history!”

“History? What history?”

“Our history. Your history. Everyone’s history! And it’s gotta be a grand one. Only then will people stand tall, proud of who they are,” Norris replied. “Plus, history shapes values. It’s a powerful way to guide people.”

“Can’t we just build our values step by step?” Ventus asked.

Norris shook his head. “Not enough. You can’t control what happens now, the challenges we face. But history? That’s something we can shape.”

Ventus got it instantly. “You’re saying I should invent a history?”

“It’s necessary, Administrator,” Norris whispered, leaning closer. “Nobody wants to feel rootless. People cling to their past—it’s precious. Since we’ve lost ours, we need to create one.”

Ventus leaned back, deep in thought. After a moment, he opened his eyes and said, “I’ve got a rough plan. We can discuss it. First, I’ll wake up some folks to help you.”

He accessed the awakening interface and selected five writers and five sociologists—ordinary people, but good enough for now. With Norris-Barry leading, he formed the Social Culture Department and handed them the task of crafting (or, well, fabricating) this history.

---

That afternoon, Ventus visited Dr. Guan Yan’s department to observe a test of their new infrared laser weapon. The test was a success—the laser obliterated a target drone from 20 kilometers away.

This weapon was a game-changer, far outclassing the basic electromagnetic cannons on their Blade fighters and Arrow scouts. Better yet, it drew power directly from the ship’s engines, no ammo storage needed.

Even their clunky Blade fighters might stand a chance in a fight with these equipped.

Dr. Guan Yan and her team still needed to upgrade the mothership’s production lines to mass-produce and install the lasers. That would take about a week.

Afterward, Ventus headed to a temporary classroom for a lesson in Galactic Basic. The teachers? Dubrak Qennto and his crew, including Murte, plus some new instructors from the education department.

Since arriving in the Star Wars universe, Ventus had prioritized language learning. Galactic Basic was now a mandatory subject for every citizen. It wasn’t too tough—similar to the English he’d studied in his past life, with a familiar alphabet and straightforward pronunciation. After awakening to the Force, his mind felt sharper (thanks, Force?). Despite being average at English before, he was picking up Galactic Basic fast.

A sharp mind sure helped.

How else could he have come up with genius ideas like sewage-powered generators or the Great Dung Dam?

---

The next day, Norris-Barry and the Social Culture Department, sporting dark circles from an all-nighter, showed up with a proposal.

The plan for the Fourth Civilization!

They’d taken Ventus’s initial idea, deemed it workable, and expanded it into a full-blown history.

In this history, a dazzling, glorious civilization arose on a planet called Earth, in a star system called the Solar System, located in the galaxy’s fourth spiral arm. This Earth Civilization was unstoppable, once ruling a quarter of their galaxy.

But the good times didn’t last. A near-perfectly evolved insectoid species—the Zerg—appeared, slaughtering, breeding, and expanding across the galaxy. The galaxy burned, and Earth Civilization led the charge, forming an alliance with other species for a century-long war against the Zerg.

At a horrific cost—70% of their population gone, countless industrial worlds ruined—the final Zerg hive was destroyed. Peace returned, and Earth Civilization spearheaded the rebuilding of the galaxy’s remnants.

This Zerg invasion was called the First Cataclysm, and the era was known as the First Epoch.

During the rebuilding, Earth Civilization leaned heavily on robots and AI to offset population losses. As AI evolved, robots gained emotions and creativity, sparking tensions between organic and inorganic species.

Then disaster struck again. A mysterious signal from the void triggered the Second Cataclysm. An ancient AI called the Purge Protocol sought to wipe out all galactic civilization.

Under its influence, robots and synthetics rebelled, igniting a galaxy-wide war. Earth Civilization stood at the forefront once more.

The war seemed hopeless until Earth discovered an ancient hyperspace core. By studying it, they developed hyperspace jump technology, allowing travel without reliance on hyperspace lanes.

With this tech, Earth’s final fleet jumped straight to the Purge Protocol’s mechanical homeworld, obliterating it and ending the war.

This invasion was the Second Cataclysm, and the era was the Second Epoch.

But the galaxy wasn’t done suffering. Misuse of the hyperspace core during jumps tore open a rift, letting high-dimensional beings called Shabanash invade.

A battered galaxy, led by Earth, fought a final, desperate stand. They lost. All civilizations fell, Earth was shattered, and the galaxy’s last fleet was annihilated.

In their final act, Earth Civilization built a mothership, loading it with their last hope: a tech archive, a talent bank, and an embryo vault. They made a blind, maximum-distance hyperspace jump, landing here.

This invasion was the Third Cataclysm, and the era was the Third Epoch.

---

Reading this epic, almost sci-fi-novel-worthy “history,” Ventus couldn’t help but applaud. It was brilliantly crafted—logical, vivid, and packed with heroic tales. Like Commander Artanis, the Protoss hierarch leading the galaxy’s last fleet. Or Master Chief, the hero who delayed the Zerg at Reach. Or Commander Shepard, who went down with the Purge Protocol’s fleet to save Earth.

Best of all? Ventus’s family was cast as the legendary leaders who guided Earth Civilization against these cataclysms!

Compared to this masterpiece, that hack Lord Mirror’s writings were pure garbage.

This history also neatly explained the mothership’s tech archive, which held a mix of technologies from different civilizations. They were gifts from the galaxy’s dying cultures, entrusted to Earth. But this detail couldn’t go in the public history books—too many would covet the archive.

“This history is… restored beautifully,” Ventus said, flipping through the document with a strange smile. “You’ll need to flesh out the details—maybe forge some historical records. That’s your next task.”

He looked up at Norris-Barry, his odd grin making the sociologist uneasy.

“Administrator… is something wrong with the document?”

“Oh, there’s a problem,” Ventus said slowly. “A big one.”