Afraid, but determined, Mr. Whim stood before the council. From their high ebony podiums he looked like a bug, about to be squished beneath the stony-faced councilmen. His wrinkled face, glistening in a film a sweat, gave the elusion of a much older man. It was fair, he supposed, as his eyes had seen enough for a lifetime, let alone for less than fifty.
A gavel lowered and the sound resonated through the empty, lifeless room. No windows were visible, only a single dim bulb that created more shadows that it shone light. “State your name, Mr. Whim,”
The question was so redundant, he considered responding sarcastically, but this was neither the time nor place. “Cosby Whim, sir,”
“State your reason for appearing before the council, Mr. Whim,” The councilmen’s voice bellowed, seeping into Whim and making him shiver.
There was a pause. Why was he here? He reassembled his thoughts. “I-I,” he adjusted his wire rim glasses, a nervous tick of his.  “I have a theory- I mean evidence- evidence of my theory,” He could feel his audience slipping away. “I believe I have proof of the Terraria Theory,”
There was a slight shuffle between the council; everyone was now uncomfortable, as they should be. The Terraria Theory was, for lack of better words, sensitive material. “Explain your findings,”
He continued the speech he had practiced in the mirror for days now. “I believe I have found evidence of Terras,”
“Meaning,”
He took in a deep breath, wondering if even he understood the full meaning of what he was about to say. “Meaning we were not alone, we were not the first. Terrestrials of earth existed before us. Called Humans. They killed their planet like a parasite then took to the stars, swearing to return. That was millions of year ago, and now they are likely more evolved, more malicious and more vengeful. I offer you this piece of wisdom, Council. Warn your families. You’re kin, you’re piers, your descendants. Warn them, for this ancient legend is no myth. The humans are returning, and they are not returning in peace,”