We have been here the longest, but the endless expanse is far more ancient still. In its unfathomable age it has grown frigid, dark and devoid of life. Our roots labor to carve through the unyielding soil, and we no longer recall the hues of our leaves.

The cold is all that remains. Its sharp numbness is such that even those few obstinate timbers left on Koyasil hearken to the Fire-That-Destroys with some predilection. If only to imagine a temporary warmth within its dreadful incandescence.

Few remain besides us that we know. Vodyani Arks, while dilapidated and few in number, still traverse the void seeking their lost gods.

The Sophons remain, though they shed their corporeal selves for a more "convenient" form...a great nebula of nanomachines, billowing out into the darkness to discover what remains to be found.

We have seen bands of Cravers living scattered throughout known space, their minds devolved from eons of inner strife and cannibalism. While their threat has become slight in scale, to encounter those which remain is to know true fear.

Although we know little of what befell the others, it is relatively established that the children of Raia were first. Taken by disease and famine when their ambitions for misguided success exceeded their compassion to steward life.

The Lumerian families were said to have absconded their homeworlds in search of what dust still remained; abandoning their people to die in destitution without guidance. Perhaps they still seek profits among distant stars.

Those known as Horatio are the closest in remembrance. The tremendously huge, rusted sphere of hyperium still stands as evidence of when they sought to close their single remaining system off from foreign invaders. It only served to temporarily insulate them from the exterior horrors of entropy, and imprison them as their "perfection" gave way to one last winter.

Still we gradually cultivate ourselves and spread new roots. New generations of Unfallen have adapted to forms of evergreen. Their variations a symbol of our unyielding tenacity throughout the epochs. Nevertheless we recognize our fate. This place will become naught but emptiness. We will not turn from that eternal darkness which inevitably claims all...

Yet hope springs eternal. A promise was made to us immemorially long ago. A timeless pact with those ethereal beings who have survived alongside us in harmony. Were we to outlive those that brought flames into our world without turning to destruction ourselves, then there would come a time where we would be safeguarded from the coming obscurity. A reward for our enduring humility and continuing resolution to foster life. This is what we were told.

That time has come, and the promise is to be fulfilled. I leave this as the last record of our mark upon this fated universe.

The Riftborn are here now. Not on ships - they arrive on great trails of blinding white light. They beckon the last of us to join them in a new reality. A new home eternal; one where we shall never be cold again. 

Based on my most recent play-through, hope you liked it. I played unfallen and my friend was riftborn, we allied but he won. Old universe with all cold systems. I just started playing and I'm not keen on all the lore, and I'm sure it isn't accurate to canon. I did my best with what I know based on a sudden spurt of inspiraton. Let me know if you spot errors in grammar or lore.