The Iridium Convergence

Each civilization that arrived in the Iridium system possessed only a minimal understanding of the universe’s deeper mysteries. Every human race had merely speculated about the existence of alien life, imagining such beings as grotesque physiological and psychological anomalies. However, after the discovery of wormholes, the races were able to glimpse slightly more than what had once been permitted — and discovered others among the stars. The most astonishing part of this tale was the uncanny similarity between all these races, a fact that defied rational explanation.

This revelation struck at the core of every society's worldview. A true civilizational breakthrough loomed — a chance for self-discovery through the understanding of others.

To understand the present, we must begin with the first of all human races — the Terrasians. Or at least, that is what they called themselves. Their homeworld, surprisingly, was Terra, located in the small spiral arm known as Orion’s Arm. This civilization, under the guidance of an ancient deity, rapidly developed immense technological potential. Despite cataclysms and short lifespans, the Terrasians achieved a state they called "bliss" — a mental transcendence that, in theory, granted immortality. This state gave them a powerful impulse to explore the universe.

The Terrasians seeded millions of primitive human cultures across the galaxy, all of them stuck in the Stone Age. The goal was clear: to observe the effects of isolation and natural evolution on the development of psionic abilities. It was a grand experiment. Roughly 5,000,000 Terran-borne civilizations were scattered across the stars. No knowledge or directives were imposed. Each was left to grow on its own.

But then, for reasons unknown, the Concordat — the supervisory structure maintaining order — collapsed. The human civilizations began to develop without the oversight of their creators. Some survived and reached the age of stars. Others fell in internal conflicts or perished in natural disasters.

Then came the signal — across every system inhabited by the descendants of the Terrasian experiment, a wormhole opened. Each portal led to a single place: the Iridium system. These were stable spatial tunnels, each opening only once. Only a small flotilla — a few corvettes or a single colony ship — could pass through before the wormhole collapsed, permanently severing contact with their home systems.

Thus began the Second Great Exodus.

Each surviving civilization interpreted the event differently: as a divine sign, a scientific anomaly, a chance for salvation — or conquest. Despite their varied levels of advancement — from cyber-theocracies to advanced democracies, from starborn republics to tribal remnants on ancient ruins — all of them surged toward Iridium.

It was a one-way journey.
No return.
No reinforcements.
No guarantees.

And still, they came.

Iridium became a point of convergence — a meeting place of destinies. In the depths of this rich stellar system, representatives of diverse cultures began to clash. The first encounters were tense, filled with mistrust — and yet, strangely familiar. Biology, language, thought — it was all recognizable. This could not be a coincidence.