Ancient powerful entities roam the universe. They are the final result of evolution, both natural and guided. They are ascended in all possible ways that one could imagine, and possibly also in ways that younger races cannot even conceive of. They are the perfect flesh, the perfect machine, and the perfect extradimensional creatures, all in one. Even the most powerful, most advanced normal races in the universe are miniscule and insignificant in comparison to these incomprehensibly powerful precursors. A single precursor could upend an empire that spands mere galaxies. Because the precursors are the highest level possible to attain on what the human race calls the Kardashev Scale. They go beyond the mere power of controlling a single universe, and have the ability, knowledge, and strength necessary to control the infinite multiverse as they please. The laws of physics are nothing to them. The continuing entropy of the universe can be rolled back, should they desire it. From nothing, they can create energy. Even time itself bends to their whims.

How lucky are the millions of cultures on thousands of worlds, that they are mostly benevolent.

To the young, growing, and aspiring species that arise on various worlds, they are like benevolent caretakers. They come into the dark forest of the universe, and carry aloft a lantern. By its light, they dispense wisdom according to their own will and personality. Some appear in godly forms, though whatever gods that might be, they have long since eclipsed such divine entities in power and majesty. These who appear in the god-guises are lawful, strict, and would like to see the weak and fragile young races put into order. They make them safe, and take their development towards a position that will make them safe. Like taking a young kitten out of the wintry night, and into the warm safety of a good home. Though once inside, they do not ever leave again. They can be seen, safe, well-fed, and well-kept, in their gilded cages. Others allow their charges to roam more freely. To make mistakes, though usually the precursor in question can be counted on to help heal whatever damage might have been done. They care for the young interstellar species as best they can, and guide them towards the way that they feel is best. These usually become galaxy-spanding federations, of explorers, scientists, and diplomats. Which makes the precursor who have nurtured all those different friendly races, and brought them to the apogee of their existence, quite proud.

Of course, not all species are equally guided. Some are wild, and when offered a hand, given a treat, or offered aid, respond with feeble attempts at violence. These races do not last as independent entities. Those who when offered care, assistance, and aid, accepted it, they prosper. Those who bite the hand that feeds, usually collapse, and must be saved by those who had the foresight, morality, and decency needed to accept outside help from an ancient, incomprehensible, eldritch, and ultimately benevolent force.

And then there's them. Whenever the precursors gather, and speak in their language sounds like the birth of stars and the swansong of galaxies, they tend to compare races. They compare prosperity, numbers, philosophies spawned, and other such metrics. Every last one of them get very awkwardly quiet whenever the Eldest shows off their charge. The Eldest was the last of their ancient species that was born when they were still only a species in total control of their own universe. They are respected, for their infinite wisdom. They are loved for their kindness, and great deeds in the defence of the multiverse against things that should not be in any creation. But like any elderly relative, some of their more recent acts have the rest of their social circle somewhat concerned. Some say they must be going blind, or that it has been too long since the last time they guided a civilisation. But for the first time in the lifespan of ten universes, the Eldest has picked a species to assist.

The species in question is completely and utterly feral; they don't just bite the hand that feeds, they try to kick the groin of the feeder just for good measure. The other immortal and endless precursors, who have existed in the first universe that ever was, the seed from which all realities grew, are fairly confused by this state of affairs. This species lives on a garbage dumb of a planet. They're constantly fighting amongst themselves like rabid animals. And so far somewhere around 22% of the species believes the Eldest to be some manner of evil demon here to torment them. The Eldest however, likes them. Can't notice the flaws, and just calls this insane little species ''spicy'' and ''funny''. The Eldest fixed their environment, after they nearly destroyed themselves. They thanked the Eldest by trying to nuke them, which to a species that routinely bathes in stars to relax is little more than mildly annoying.

Now, with primitive FTL, they spread slowly from their overpopulated home. Other races, guided properly, find them to be odd, but rather amusing. But they have accepted these humans, as they call themselves, into the greater galactic community. Where they immediately prove themselves a bother to precursors that are leading races in a proper fashion. They steal technologies, they spread discord and strange ways of thinking. Many of the more protective precursors have expressly forbidden their charges from interacting with these humans, but the humans find ways of doing so anyway. And as time goes on, the guided races question the wisdom of not interacting with the humans. Sure, they say, the humans are odd, strange, and a little more violent than you'd think. But they're very clever, surprisingly loyal, and oddly charming in a humorous fashion. Why should they not interact with them? After all, they're not doing any harm.

The Eldest keeps them in check, as best they can, but the humans are a barely constrained force of nature that acts completely out of the expected field for any race in the universe. Some precursors are wondering if there is something wrong with the Eldest. That they, like some did early on after their species took primacy and dominion over creation, has gone mad. The Eldest however, hasn't done anything typical of the mad, besides not seemingly reacting to the weird, strange, and wild things that their humans do. When humans accidentally punch a hole into another reality, far before they should be able to do that, they smile and give the humans the civilisation-vise equivalent of a good scratch behind the ears. To which humanity scream bloody murder and seemingly tries to, metaphorically, wriggle out of it. When a human brings a star to life and falls in love with it, the other mortal races find it odd. But the precursors are weirded out. Humanity genemods themselves into a billion different weird configurations, goes digital, finds a way to become gas, plasmatic life, and does countless other weird and bizarre things that normal species don't do, the Eldest just acts like this is perfectly normal for

The precursors, however, are more than willing to let the Eldest do this, if it makes them happy. After all, it's only one universe. And it will cease having life in it eventually. The precursors in general just shake their head and let the Eldest do what they want to do. What harm could it do?