In the depths of the dark universe.
A small, unassuming transport ship quietly traverses the dark currents of stardust.
In the center of the cabin, the elder Snake Person, Kurban, stands silently.
His eight slender arms hang slightly, and on his aged face, deep sorrow nearly overflows.
"People, stay quiet."
As his deep voice falls, all the Snake People in the cabin look up in unison, their gazes fixated on Kurban, filled with reliance and expectation.
He is the herald of the Mother God's will, the only pillar and hope of this wandering tribe.
Kurban takes a deep breath, speaking slowly, each word laced with an irrepressible grief:
"I have received the Mother God's will."
"Our compatriots left on Mineral Star 109... have all returned to the embrace of the Mother God."
As his words fall, the cabin descends into dead silence.
The young Snake People clench their fists tightly, with sharp nails deeply embedded in their palms, an indelible hatred swirling in their scarlet eyes.
