((Look, there's a dearth of Civ 5 fics out there but as soon as I find one it's getting missioned, k?))
Here's what I'd do, since I've been mostly very negative in this thread. I'm coming down with something green and slimy, is the thing, so do bear that in mind if I'm grouchy or incoherent. Well, more so than normal, anyways. =]
Anyway, my pick takes the form of a ficlet, so here we go.
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The thing in the sky - some of those were still calling it God and arguing which one it was, which is why they hadn't been given an invitation - had given them a week. A group of people now stood at the allotted place and time, of every race, colour and creed. Young and old, rich and poor, in sickness and in health, the group stood together. And when the voice rang in their heads, they parted as one, and small footsteps edged cautiously forward, spurred on by larger ones.
"This is my great-grandson," said a man with a stoop and a stick and the wispy remnants of a long beard flicked about by the breeze. He was speaking in Amharic, but everyone understood. "He is three years old. We live together, his mother, her parents, and myself, and we live simple and honest lives.
"There will be people around the world expecting greatness. Kings and emperors, scientists and engineers, artists and poets. Those who have already accomplished greatness. But look at my great-grandson. My Tewodros, who has learned to walk and who can read a little of our language. He might do great things, or things which are terrible, or he might just live his life without doing much of anything at all.
"Wipe us out this day, Sky-Being, and you will not know."
The old man gripped his stick in knuckles so white some were worried the skin would split. He swayed slightly. His knees hurt a little. "My child, every child, is this planet and this people's future! If we do not give you cause to let us survive now, let our children give it! Because how will we ever improve, how can we improve, if we are exterminated now like rats in a pantry? Whatever crimes you think the human race has committed, and there have been many and they have been abominable, our children are innocent! So let them go! And let us be! Let us--"
And the old man sank to the floor, coughing and in pain, and the child ran to him. The old man was slowly lifted by a small, chubby hand, and the child turned around, and said, haltingly...
"I don't want to die."
And the world believed.