No species plans for the end.

Why should they? Why plan for the end, when as far as your race is concerned, you have yet to emerge from the beginning? Why plan for the end when all you see before you is infinity? Why plan for your end if you will not be there to see it?

But perhaps life should. Because infinity is not the same as eternity. Infinity is boundless, imperceptible. Eternity is eternal. Unchanging. Repeated, if necessary. Eternity can be cruel. Like those who enforce it.

The species that will one day be called the Ancients comes to realize this. As cruel as eternity themselves, they do not meet its own power. Their ships are swallowed by the void. Beams of light rain down on their worlds, as if the judgement of the universe itself...which it may as well be. The judges of 'lesser species' are now being judged in turn. Have been judged. Were judged from the moment they entered subspace. Consigned to oblivion.

Infinity is a myth. There is only eternity.

Despite their might, despite all they do, there is no hope. No way to defy the inevitable. Slowly, surely, the universe closes in around them. Slowly, surely, the pallid beacons of their kind fade. No sound, no light...nothing to penetrate the void.

It is the end.

Welcome to oblivion.