Xel.

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 The first sign was a whisper, a tremor on the cosmic background static, a rhythmic pattern unlike anything encountered before. Xel, the Watcher, hung in the void monitoring. The Watcher monitored everything, electromagnetic, gravitic, isentropic, everything. A jolt of curiosity pierced his usual AI stoicism. He honed, tuned, filtered and refined the signal, and a holographic image flickered against the consciousness zones they had allocated to vision. A pair of hairless bipeds in a tumbling ship, blistered down through the thin band of gases that surrounded the planet. He had never seen this particular species before and his data banks, spread over his many dispersed selves across the galaxy had not encountered them. They made it to the surface alive, much to Xel’s surprise, they had calculated the probability of survival as a very low number indeed. The creature’s small ship was utterly destroyed and Xel calculated again that the probability of survival against the hazards of the planet was low. Xel was to be surprised a second time. They annotated their dispersed selves accordingly.

Days turned into weeks as Xel observed these creatures and noted the tenacity with which they clung on to life. Xel classified them and gave them a short form name - human. Unlike any species encountered before on this particular planet, humans weren't driven by pure instinct. Over a millennium or so of earth year cycles the humans multiplied and Xel noted that they planned, they cooperated, they left intricate symbology on cave walls. Xel noted that they had language beyond simple communication. They built rudimentary shelters, defying the elements with their ingenuity, not brute force. None of these features were in any indigenous Earth species. Xel watched.

The most unsettling aspect was their constant tinkering. They'd take a sharp rock, bind it to a stick, and suddenly, it became a deadlier weapon. A fallen tree transformed into a bridge, a hollowed log into a vessel. They weren't just adapting to their environment; they were actively shaping it.

Xel also recorded the aspects of the human’s behaviour, some of which were of concern. Two humans, faces contorted in rage, were locked in a fight. One grasped a pointed stick, the other a rough shield. The weapon plunged deep, and the victor let out a guttural cry, not of triumph, but of something deeper, something primal.

This violence, this capacity for destruction, existed alongside their remarkable creativity. It was a paradox Xel had not seen in this arm of the galaxy. Were they ingenious builders or savage killers? Xel classified them both.

Then came the fire. A bolt of lightning ignited a dry patch of grass. The humans, instead of fleeing, surrounded the flames, their eyes wide with a strange fascination. They nurtured the fire, coaxed it, learned to control it. It became a tool, a source of warmth, and more - a flickering defiance against the vast indifference of the universe.

The Watcher recorded generations of humans emerge, their tools growing more complex, their shelters more elaborate. Xel classified them as a promising future intelligence, and then his data systems alerted his focused consciousness onto a salient fact. The humans increased in direct proportion to the decrease in the earth biosphere. The Watcher reclassified humans as ectoparasite.

And Xel, the Watcher, watched.

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