Chapter Text
The researchers had found the Disc floating in the outer reaches of the End, farther out than anyone had ever traveled before.
The crew of the I.C. Ship had been notified of some sort of outside presence — a tiny blip on their navigational hub. It caused everyone working to pause; what was something doing so far out in the Void Desert? To their knowledge, they were the first to have ever been sent out this far and it was only because the Universal Council had grown desperate. Their search for water had become something so frantic that the Council was willing to send a crew into what was essentially a wasteland.
Which raised the question, how was something outside their ship and what was it?
The Captain ordered the metal shutters that protected the windows to be raised, and many of the personnel gathered around to bear witness to what was waiting for them outside.
It wasn't all that impressive really. Just a dinky little spacecraft.
It floated in the endless desert, looking as innocent as a Piglin shoat, bulky but ultimately harmless.
The crew was quick to double-check their comms. No signals had been sent out in months, and surely they would have been alerted if someone had dropped by recently?
They almost left it behind. It was probably just debris from some long-forgotten war that had been drifting for a millennial. The Captain was keen to get back to the mission at hand, and she didn't want to bother her crew with a clean-up.
However, when they were about to fly away, there was a small glint that caught one of the Piglin crew’s eyes. The glint of gold.
It wasn't long before the research team was hauling the contraption onto their ship.
It was an odd little thing, this craft. It wasn't made of the Enderlings’ rounded metal, or branded with infamous greens — a mark of Dreamons. Instead, it was completely barren of any identifying symbols, no tells within it's white cone or on the metal legs that held it upright.
The biggest clue to identifying the Species that left behind the craft was the golden circle displayed on the center of the grey metal.
It gleamed mischievously under the ship’s fluorescent lights, gold reflection casting itself onto the floor. It was decorated with engravings that looked vaguely familiar to some of the crew, but was ultimately still a mystery. Many reached out with curious hands and claws and talons, tracing the lines that had been etched into the metal.
It was rather easy to remove, considering how secure it had been.
One of the technicians, holding the golden circle close to their chest, brought it over to the Captain, lowering it gently into her awaiting hooves. With practiced ease, she gave the object an appraising look, eyes flitting over each symbol hoping to recognize the pattern laid out before her.
She didn't, but that was okay.
Then, for the first time, the Captain flipped over the circle and couldn't help the way her eyes widened.
It looked like a Disc.
Discs were popular on every planet. Despite the advancements in technology across the Universe, there wasn't a species out there that didn't like listening to Chirp the old-fashioned way. Each disc all looked the same. Identical grey coverings with different colored centers, used to identify the song being listened to. The only known exception was the Netherian Pig Step , which was different shades of crimson instead of grey.
This Disc seemed to be an exception, too.
While it followed the similar trend of metal covering and colored center, this had words on it, or at least the Captain thought they were words. She had borne witness to plenty of different written languages, but the one that had been carefully carved into this metal was unidentifiable even to her.
The Captain couldn’t believe it. Had her crew, while searching for water of all things, uncovered evidence of a race so old they were completely forgotten in the Universe’s history?
They needed to notify the Council immediately.
Captain Puffy and her crew were welcomed back to the Interplanetary Council with open arms. Although they did not complete their initial mission of finding a new water source out in the End, they’ve cemented their spots in the history tablets with this discovery.
The Council’s best scientists reach out with sharpened claws, each hoping to sink into the flesh of something so new and exciting. There’s nothing more promising being the first to glean information away from the Disc, and each person is jumping for the chance to leave their name forever embedded into the Universe’s history, just as Captain Puffy has done.
And the determination that fills the Council is a good thing, in a way. It drives each of the scientists forward with a thirst that can only be quenched by figuring out the Disc.
Whatever Species had left it behind knew what they had to do. Despite their backwards technology, they did recognize the fact that whoever found the Disc would not be able to recognize the words carved in the back. So they wrote in universal symbols.
It doesn't take long before an apprentice technician by the name of Fundy puts all the pieces together.
As soon as Fundy had figured it out, the Vulpian was brought to the board of Council Trustees and made to show his findings. Through complicated jargon that was difficult for even the most experienced council member to understand, Fundy explains how he figured out the Disc.
Then, he plays it for them.
“May all be well,” was the first thing that the Universe heard the Humans say.
Of course, the Council didn't know that a human had been the one to speak, or that the soft rumbling noises were meant as a greeting, but it didn't stop them from each erupting into cheers. Some of the members laugh, others cry — they've uncovered a whole new layer of history!
Fundy’s name will be written down, forever remembered, right alongside Captain Puffy’s.
For a while, there was a lull in the Disc’s research. Many assumed that everything about the Disc had been uncovered already, so there was no point in furthering the analysis. Soon enough, scientists went back to searching for water, the Drought once again their primary focus.
The news of the Disc soon reached the Public, who gobbled up the information into their greedy maws. Audio transcriptions of the Disc were distributed to just about everyone, and theories surrounding its existence began to fly across the solar systems.
The one that most of the Public agreed on was that they were an ancient civilization, who had sent out the disc as a final goodbye before they crumbled into dust. It was heavily supported — the ancient-looking technology, the lack of any records pointing towards the Disc’s inventors, a general mysterious surrounding the previously floating craft.
The biggest piece of evidence was within the Disc itself.
It had been a pretty early find and hard to miss. The sound of heavy drops, falling from what many imagine as some sort of atmosphere.
Rain.
This civilization had recorded the sound of rain, something many of the Universe’s youngest generation had heard only a handful of times.
Surely, something like this was from a time the Universe had long forgotten?
There were a few other theories, though none as endorsed — some thought that the Disc was a ploy from the Dreamons, to distract the Council so they could instigate another war. Others thought that maybe instead of them being ancient civilizations, they were something much younger. There was even a conspiracy theory that it was an all elaborate ruse and that the Disc didn't even exist and all the audio had been made by some Avian chicks playing a prank.
None of it mattered too much. Not until much later.
The projections completely changed how the Universe saw the Disc.
The Council Head had allowed Sam, a quickly rising scientist, to perform a few experiments on the Golden Disc. Nothing that would risk it's harm, of course, it was still a historical artifact after all, but the Interplanetary Council was wanting to provide the Public something other than news of their failed attempts at finding water.
So, they allowed Sam to do whatever he liked as long as it did more risk the destruction of the Disc.
He started with simple. Retaking measurements, reversing the audio on the Disc, and other rather childish things.
One of the first things Sam learns is that the Disc is not pure gold, but rather only gold-plated. After a few attempts at figuring out what was inside of the Disc without cutting it up, he realized that the center of the Golden Disc was copper.
It was a small find, all things considered, but in the grand schemes of an ancient civilization? It meant all the world.
It was after this little experiment that he began to notice that there was something more to the Disc. Something that he and every other scientist that had ever touched the Disc had missed. Sam wasn't sure what it was, or how to figure it out, but he would. He had to.
So, time inches past as Sam slowly works out the Disc. There isn't a moment that he isn't focused on the metallic circle, constantly shifting it in his paws, tilting it in the light.
He's not sure how, but after days without sleep and running only on a snack every few hours, Sam finally figures it out.
Like Fundy, he's ushered into the Council’s room, made to stand in front of them and present what he's found.
He's a bit more crazed looking than when he last saw the Council Lead, and he rambles much more, lower cat-half constantly shifting as he gestures to his schematics, but it's all worth it in the end when he's able to show them the projections.
It’s a little blurry since Sam had to use his drink-stained blanket as a screen, but there's no denying that what he's showing them is a circle.
Except the circle is not from a holograph or drawn, it's being projected from a Disc.
The Council is stunned stupid.
Then, Sam makes it to where the projections change.
There are math equations, black and white, and colored photos of an atmosphere unlike any had ever seen, bipedal creatures so similar to some of the Species that surround them — the same characters that are etched into the metal are shown printed onto a piece of paper.
It paints a lovely photo of colors and creatures and cultures, yes, but most importantly though, there is water.
There are at least three separate projections of vast bodies of water surrounding sediment. One of them has the bipedal creatures that are featured multiple projections on a little craft, holding some kind of net.
There is water.
It changes everything.
Some of the earlier projections were of planets, and the Council realizes quickly that it's possible to piece together a map, to find the origins of the Golden Disc.
They could find this planet that seemed to have so many bodies of water.
The projections are not met with ecstatic cheering and overwhelming yelps of joy — no, it is greeted with the quiet hum of determination. It's welcomed by the sight of the Universe sitting and asking themselves: Is it worth it? Is it worth sending out a crew to try and find a place that may not exist anymore?
The answer is a resounding yes.
They need to find out how to find this lost civilization. It doesn't matter whether it is dead and gone or if it has only just begun to reach its hands to the stars — the Council needed to know more.
And that was their first mistake.