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"One of us were defeated by a mere child," spoke a green furred alien. The feathers located on the alien looked to be dipped in a potent purple dye. "Never have one of us been killed by the millions of planets that we've conquered."

The alien sat on one of many boulders that rested along the shore of a large lake. The bright sunny day was alive with the chirping of winged wildlife, and the jumping of aquatic animals in the water.

"That child is blessed with our gift," answered another furred alien one of a couple dozen standing or sitting among the rocks. They weren't alone as several other alien species gathered there, bringing the total to well over fifty. "He only killed the other because he has our strengths."

"Kazamde being killed is not the issue," remarked the first alien. "Yes, this child is blessed but why he fought one of our own is the greatest concern. And it is obvious that this Blessed child is a significant threat to us."

"No one is a threat to us," declared an unusual alien with multiple eyes. "Even if a Blessed One fights against the Converters, it cannot threaten all of us."

"Agreed," said another. "This child was just born, and its birth was interrupted. That is hardly a threat to us, who are more matured."

"I did not call you all here if it was not a concern," remarked the green furred alien. "My original race, who are being called 'Guardians', have massed their fleets and are counterattacking with the help of a rogue blessed one."

"What do you suggest then, Elder?" asked the second Guardian. "Aggressor and another Head Converter were killed because you demanded that they attack these aliens. Then the one you tried to grow was killed before it could even support itself."

"The Head Converters are struggling and dying against the counterattack so direct action is necessary," said the Elder.

"Reveal ourselves to the tainted?" questioned one of the other aliens.

"Kazamde had shattered that tradition when he targeted the one that killed him," said another.

Sitting on a boulder that was nearly submerged in the lakes water was a smaller alien, with fleshy silver skin and blue highlights. The large thin fins that sprouted out the sides of his long tail, along with his webbed hands and feet, were obvious markers of the aquatic or amphibious race he was originally from.

So someone has defied the blessings and killed a Blessed One, the creature thought. It ignored the bickering of the other Blessed Ones of all different alien races, many of which were the last of their race. What type of alien would desecrate the Blessing? And for what reasons?

"The Guardians are not the threat," said the green and purple Guardian. "Their new allies are the threat, and they will start hunting us down."

"The Guardians have the largest fleet, and weapons specifically targeted for killing the Converters," remarked one of the vocal aliens. "Why are the others such a threat, Elder? What are you not telling us?"

"You all know as much as I do," replied the Elder. "And here is what I know: the Head Converter, Aggressor, has been our best Converter since he took this planet. Now he's dead, along with a younger Head Converter that went with him to ensure their success. And now that one of these aliens have been given the Blessing, they are the only ones to have ever desecrated it by allying with its original race to doom the galaxy."

Our old civilizations were destroying planets, that's why we don't gather, thought the aquatic alien. Several of the Blessed Ones were upset being called out of their zone that they supervised. Those races that survived the Converted invasions had to be watched so they didn't attempt to build cities or overpopulate the planets. Now we're gathering like those civilizations of old would before war.

There was something else in the Elder's words that made sense, these new aliens that the Converted have gone after have done more damage than any other race ever. Not even dozens of races that had banded together had accomplished so much as defending their planets from the basic Converters, let alone a Head Converter.

The silver alien jumped down from his boulder, splashing in the water and waded deeper into the lake.

"Euno, where are you going?" asked one of the nearby Blessed Ones.

"To see these aliens for myself," said Euno, without even bothering to glance back. Some of the moss on the rock was brushed off by the alien's fin, revealing the faint traces of some runes on it.

Those that referred to themselves as the Blessed Ones sat on the last remains of one of the greatest city of a great civilization. The city once was the last and strongest stronghold on the Guardian home world, destroyed by Aggressor.

To anyone else, it would look like a gathering of aliens for diplomatic discussion but to those Guardians who survived the battles tens of thousands of years ago now only saw gods, the perfected beings that they paid tribute to because they kept their planet safe.

Not many would see them for what they are: the biggest threat to any civilizations in the galaxy. A gathering of Perfected Infections, in which each one is capable of destroying entire fleets the way Kazamde nearly did during his escape from the asteroid field around the system that held Canidera.