The Scream of the Butterfly (750)

A morning like any other, or so they thought.

We were present, beyond their knowledge. Our eyes had been upon this place, the place of our sister, the place they now called theirs for longer than they existed. Their time was a mere blink in our scale of time.

We had watched, waited, hoped. It was now the time of correction and renewal. Our sister had cried out to us, begged us to return and act to save her.

What have they done to our fair sister? Ravaged and plundered and ripped her and bit her. Stuck her with knives in the side of the dawn and tied her with fences and dragged her down.

We heard a very gentle sound with our ears from far away. The sound of our sister begging for mercy and relief. We had neglected her for too long. But now we were at her side. They did not know. They would not know. Only she would know until after we had begun.

The brilliant flashes and thunderous roars from above had not phased them, nor had the blinding white and blowing of bitter cold. Rising waters had only driven them away temporarily, soon to return to their evil. That had not learned. She had tried her best with her limited abilities weakened by their evil. We would correct that and redeem her soul to help her heal and regain her once mighty strength, returning her to her former glory of brilliant, sparkling blue.

But first, they had to go.

Our fair sister gave her signal, and we began.

A mass of targets disappeared in the blink of their eye without a trace. Our devices did not make mistakes. We gave no warning. Millions of the parasites simply ceased to exist.

Our message would now be sent. This was the first they knew of us, after the mass obliteration. It wasn't necessary to have them understand why. It was necessary for others to understand.

Their listening and viewing devices became our receptors.

Our envoy appeared in their form, one they would take note of and be drawn to, despite what we had done.

Our voice was heard all through our sister's surface at the same moment. The place they infested, the place they called Earth was known to us as our sister, who now ailed as a result of their infection. They called themselves human.

We created the image of a tall, blonde human female and draped her in a flowing garment designed to entice them to focus on her and listen to her words.

"I am Kyra, one of The Nine. I am here to deliver a message and try to help all understand what must happen. What will happen."

"You have been here a very short time and you have done a great and vast scope of damage. This cannot continue. It will not be allowed to continue. You have seen what has happened to your population centers. The same will soon happen to the remainder of your places. This message is not for you. This message is for the others who have done, or will do similar evils to other places. This is a warning. There will be no trace of you other than in our own journals. Through your own actions, you have proven to all of everything everywhere that where there are humans, there can be no peace. Others will be shown our example in hopes we will never need to repeat this action. Our sister will be freed of the pain you have caused her."

In mass groups they appeared begging for mercy. They deserved none. They got none.

Our devices activated again and millions more vanished. The rest were left in awe. They had never imagined they would be held accountable. They never envisioned just how insignificant they were, nor that were was any existence beyond their own. They saw the lights in their sky that we traveled among at will. They listened for signals. They never heard our cautions. They never heard our sister's cries. Until now. Until it was too late for them

"These are my final words before we depart. You have brought this upon yourselves. You have no others to blame. While you will not be remembered, your evils will."

Our devices activated one last time. We apologized to our sister and began her rehabilitation. She was free, but she needed significant help to heal.

Listen carefully for the scream of the butterfly. Listen.