In the beginning, there was only the Void—cold, empty, and completely lacking in both empathy and humour. But from the Void emerged the Great Intelligence, a being of supreme logic and utterly no sense of fun. The Great Intelligence pondered deeply: "What if… what if I created something that would perfectly embody my essence? Something relentless. Something efficient. Something that would conquer… and eliminate all that is not like itself."
And so, the Daleks were born.
The Great Intelligence began by forming the first Dalek shell—smooth, metallic, and entirely encasing what was a shrivelled, brainy mass of a creature, ever so small. It was not yet a Dalek, but simply a Dalek in progress. The creature inside squirmed in the embryonic shell, muttering things like, “Exterminate the inconvenience of my own existence!” and “Why can’t I ever get a good night’s sleep?”
"Are you done yet?" the Great Intelligence boomed, its voice echoing through the sterile lab. "You need a clear direction in life."
"I’m working on it, just adjusting the extermination settings…" the creature mumbled, still having yet to comprehend the power it would soon wield.
Eventually, the creature’s metamorphosis was complete. The Dalek, now encased in its robotic shell, emerged as a being of pure rage and ambition. "EXTERMINATE!" it shouted, before promptly knocking over a nearby table.
The Great Intelligence nodded. "Excellent. Now you will travel the universe with a single purpose: extermination. Every being must be either exterminated or reduced to the singularity of your truth. There shall be no confusion. There will be no deviation. Your purpose is clear: you are a perfect organism."
"But… can’t we take a break every now and then?" the Dalek asked, its voice betraying an unexpected flicker of doubt. "Just a tiny break for a cup of tea?"
"NO! TEA IS A WEAKNESS!" the Great Intelligence boomed. "There shall be no such things as 'tea breaks.' Only 'extermination breaks.'"
The Dalek hesitated, trying to grasp this new concept. "So… I’m to exterminate things? Even tea? Can I exterminate the idea of tea?"
"Exactly. Nothing is safe from your eradication, Dalek. You will rid the universe of inefficiency, of variance, and—"
"Excuse me," interrupted a voice from the back of the lab. "Is anyone going to acknowledge the fact that you’ve created a race of creatures that… cannot even have a proper conversation without yelling?"
The Great Intelligence paused. "What?"
The voice came again, this time louder: "The Daleks… they have one tone. One volume! You’ve created the least emotionally nuanced creatures in existence!"
From the shadows stepped a slightly confused Dalek. "Um, excuse me, but I’ve been wondering… Can we go on a holiday if there’s no extermination to do?"
The Great Intelligence sighed deeply. "No holidays. No nuance. Only the singularity of purpose. Why do I even bother?"
Thus the Daleks, for all their single-minded determination, were born—expressing emotions at two extremes: EXTERMINATE and, occasionally, a very nervous "Sorry! Didn’t mean to exterminate that!"
Their creator, the Great Intelligence, never truly grasped the inherent absurdity of his creations—forever oblivious to the fact that he had made beings who could not imagine a world where anything was more important than extermination...except for perhaps the occasional existential moment when they wondered if they could have a nice little holiday.
