“The Inexpressive”, an ancient clan that resides on X-ARC6. 

Summarized Section A1 Documentation by 0249.

During my exploration of X-ARC6 I saw many a wonder, but all paled in comparison to 

The Inexpressive. The Clans believe they were once “NeGiot” (Normal) but that they were now doomed to never speak, love, or cry. Permanently Inexpressive, that alone intrigued me enough to dedicate myself fully to thoroughly documenting them.

The Inexpressive only have 1 protruding eye taking the majority of the space on their face, they have 2 long arms and a weak back making them drag their arms across the Earth, 2 long weak legs that buckle and give way under the weight of their big heads. In short, The Inexpressive were disproportionate and had no visible sex organs or means of consuming nutrients. I pondered for years how something like this survived, how could Nature not correct itself, only I was wrong. 

Nature had been trying for years to unburden The Inexpressive, more often than not I observed them in the mouth of something else or mounted on a Pike, yet despite this, their numbers remained stable. 

I’d learned all I could from watching, in all honesty, I also couldn’t stomach watching them any longer. I decided to start asking the other clans about The Inexpressive. “Cursed” they kept saying, cursed by some Deity. Of course, I thought this ridiculous, but every Clan said the same thing and that The Founders witnessed their cursing. “But why?” I asked.

 Blank stares and a final statement “DEno” meaning “Forbidden.” They are not allowed to speak on Godly matters, So I asked God.

I followed the NeTio way of praying for some time but heard nothing. I was becoming frustrated, then I realized I’d never spoken to an Inexpressive, perhaps they truly are just dimwitted and not all I’ve been told, yes that must be it.

The Suns hung low, giving The Inexpressive haunting, long shadows. My palms began to sweat, my throat dried, heart palpitations insured, and one thought rang louder than the rest “DEno”

Despite the physical warnings, I approached these nearly perfect black, lanky monstrosities. 

“BeV” (why) was all I could muster. The Inexpressive slowly turned their Gaze towards me,

I’ll never forget the dim Red Son and the field of eyes.

One approached, looked me up and down, and attempted to raise his arm, but could not muster even that. It stared at me for some time, during that time the fear settled. There was nothing behind the eye, it was some Myth the clans made up in an attempt to explain something they could not comprehend. It strugglingly turned its head towards the suns, perhaps that’s how they survived? The Suns were intense, I considered leaving but noticed a streak of water from The Inexpressive. The Suns seering heat and Truth brought me to my knees. The Inexpressive were crying. Unable to express the misery of their existence, they all turn to the suns and stare till tears run.

a short story by SOPHOCLES