Alien Evolution System

The Collector hurtled through deep space at blinding speeds, pulverizing any stray asteroid or debris in its way to dust. It was encased in a ball of durable organic-hyperalloy more capable than any Dreadnought-class ship hull in the entire sector.

To any spacefaring onlooker, the Collector would have struck a figure of absolute terror. This ball of bony white carapace meant absolute death and destruction to any planet it landed on. The Collectors were the premiere heralds of the Collective, a hivemind species that consumed all life, adapting their biological structures into its own to produce hyper-efficient, hyper-deadly organisms without equal throughout the stars.

The process was quite simple. The Collective, once consuming an interstellar species, would find more targets in their memories. It would track these targets, finding any weaknesses it could in the memories it absorbed and, over several years tinkering with the best genetic material possible, morph a Collector, an almost indestructible, unstoppable force of raw biological power and send it onwards to harvest.

With the advent of Hyperlink technology that could generate wormholes that connected the farthest ends of the galaxy together, interstellar commerce and interaction became commonplace, but with it came the rise of the Collective. It abused the wormholes these species had created, using the very same routes these species traded and had peace with to wage war and destruction.

Any ship witnessing the Collector's balled figure speeding through the darkness would have alerted every single civilization it could. There were very few times a Collector was defeated, and it had always been through the united effort of several races. However, there would be no wayfaring space ship.

A wormhole had opened strangely close to the Collective's home solar system. The Collective's solar system and all those surrounding it had long since been closed to space-travel, deemed far too dangerous to ever traverse, and so this wormhole's appearance so close to the Collective homeworld was all too strange.

Perhaps an attack. Perhaps an accident.

But the Collective did not like uncertainties. It thrived on knowledge, and so it had sent a Collector to this wormhole to face any potential threat on the other end.

The Collector felt pride in being able to serve the Collective. Though it retained a mental independence crucial in allowing it to adapt to the high-intensity, high-uncertainty challenges of battle, it had an undying loyalty to the Collective. Its purpose was to defend the Collective at all costs and destroy and consume all its foes, bringing back their genetic material as spoils of war.

This was the mindset it had as it neared the wormhole, a pulsating mass of blinding light almost as large as a small planet. Waves of undulating gravity and space wreathed its horizon, drawing in the Collector as it neared.

When the Collector touched the horizon, it felt itself drawing into the wormhole, its body warping every this way and that as the realities of space and time became fluid. Its body, hardened by countless evolutions and perfected by the Collective, could survive the rigors of warp travel, and soon enough, it passed through without issue.

It was an interesting process, warp travel was. The feeling of having every atom of its existence warped at the seams of spacial and temporal limitation managed to make the Collector feel nausea – a feeling that no weapon in the galaxy, biological or munitions based, was capable of.

At the other end, the Collector found itself floating above a vibrant planet. It was most definitely a hotbed of life. Even from high orbit, it could sense that the planet, blue and green, had countless life signatures worth consuming.

Alarmingly, the wormhole behind the Collector closed away, leaving it stranded, but the prospect of consumption kept it from worrying.

The Collector unfurled out of its balled cocoon state. Suited for hyperspace travel as it was, it was not suited for combat. Its appearance could now best be described as bestial, appearing like an armored, infinitely more monstrous kind of crocodile. It looked like something crocodiles would worship as a god. It was quadrupedal, supporting its enormous, 6000-ton weight on skyscr.a.p.er-like legs muscled with the densest, most efficient ultrafibers and sheathed in ashen carapace impervious to even the strongest of blasters. Spikes emerged across its back and through seams in its armor, acting as tools of war that could scythe through entire cities. Its neck, long but thickly muscled, stretched forwards, its carapace-helmeted head eagerly opening a set of monstrous jaws in hunger. Its multiple tails, prehensile and dexterous like arms, flitted about it, morphing between acid spitters, blades, EMP emitters, and any other variant of destructive weapon it needed.

With a grunt of exertion unheard in the soundless void of space, the Collector sprouted enormous wings bat-like in structure but dotted with pulsating tubules that emitted bursts of raw energy like jet engines, surging it towards the planet.

But as the Collector neared, there came forth a challenger unlike it had ever known.

Its armor did not match any ship covering that the Collector held in its memory bank.

An entirely new species, perhaps? Or perhaps a strange new device that the other races had devised in order to try and kill the Collective?

Either way, the Collector had to destroy it, whether for defense or consumption it did not matter.

"Halt!" shouted the being. Its voice resonated throughout even the soundless expanse of space, powered by a strange phenomenon that the Collector did not understand. "I am Solarion, the High-King of the gods, defender of heaven and earth, keeper of the Eternal Light! On my authority, I command you to stop!"

The Collector did not recognize the being's language and continued forwards, its tails armed with acid spitters, its jaws bared, and its claws extended.

"So be it," said the being. It materialized a blade almost as large as itself from light it generated out of nowhere. Solid-light constructs were a phenomenon that the Collector had witnessed before, but this was entirely different. "To think that the prophesied destruction was not a Star Stone, but a living beast."

The being held the sword above its head. It flashed with all the brilliance of a sun, its white-hot blade generating a radiance that drove the cold of space away.

"Come, foul creature of the stars!" shouted the being. "You'll be reduced to ashes just as the countless demons and monsters I have slain before you."

The Collector did not recognize the being's language, but aggression was an universal indicator. It surged forwards, spitting acid and electricity as it barreled towards the strange organism or ship.

Organic-Hyperalloy claws clashed with a heavenly sword of light. Streams of acid and blasts of condensed electric energy were countered with beams of burning, fiery, radiance.

But eventually, there was a winner in sight.

The Collector.

It was missing two limbs, its tail shaved off, its body littered with scorch marks and cuts that refused to heal, but the being was in worse state. It floated weakly with one remaining wing. Its armor had melted, burnt, cracked, or sheared, leaving a bloody, beaten humanoid figure heaving with exhaustion underneath. The being did not heal anymore, nor did it generate scorching blasts of light. It had run out of whatever energy was fueling it.

The only thing that remained pristine was its blade.

The Collector felt excitement. It would regenerate all of its wounds by consuming this strange and powerful new creature and also attain heights of power never before seen. It would destroy the blade – useless as it was as an inorganic piece of metal – and then lay havoc upon the denizens of this planet. Judging by how nothing aided the being, it was apparent that it was the planet's most powerful line of defense, and all that lay behind it was free for consumption.

The Collector surged forwards, slower and weaker than before, but all the being could do in response was attempt to hold its blade with arms barely functional with how badly they were bruised, burned and cut.

"Forgive me, my brethren," the being said, looking back at the planet behind it. "Forgive me, mortals that believed in me. The chaos my death will cause…I hope you will all find it in your hearts to forgive me for it. But it will be nothing compared to the chaos this beast will wreak should I not do this."

With a sudden burst of energy, the being raised the blade high in the air. "O Blade of Eternity, I will entrust to thee my life, and so in return, create strength for me as you have created life. To that which is worthy to receive thee after my passing, I grant all my blessings."

The being enveloped itself in a halo of power so bright that it seared the Collector's eyes out, and in the moment of blindness, the being charged forwards, driving the blade deep into the Collector's c.h.e.s.t.

The Collector felt white-hot energy comparable to the sun liquefy and instantly evaporate its flesh.

A moment later, an explosion rocked the orbit of the planet known as Elysia. It was a blast of light so bright and expansive that every being on the planet could witness it. Those in the day witnessed their world grow infinitely white while those on the other side of the planet saw night become day for just an instant.

And so came the end of Solarion, High-King of the gods, and the Collector, herald of the Collective.

Or so the people and gods of Elysia would have been fortunate to believe.

For the Collector had survived, a single, small shard of its body surviving incineration and entry into the planet's atmosphere. It landed indiscriminately in the thick of a wild, overgrown jungle, burning out a small clearing among towering trees that twisted high into the sky.

From the crater emerged a grub no larger than a dog – all that the once mighty Collector had been reduced to.

But it had survived, and so it could still fulfill its purpose.

This planet was dangerous. It had to be neutralized for the sake of the Collective.