The Andalite Chronicles

The last memory I had, as the cold collapsed my consciousness, was of someone vast and incredible. A being like nothing I could have imagined. It saw me. It saw us all. And it laughed.

Don't pity me, Elfangor. I am glad I didn't die. Any life is better than none. And no matter how awful things seem, there is always meaning and purpose to be found.

This is my hirac delest my final statement. I have formed the mental link to the thought-speak transponder in my fighter's computer. I will record my memories before the Yeerks annihilate all trace of me. If this message someday reaches the Andalite world, I want the truth to be known. I am called a great warrior. A hero. But there is a great deal that no Andalite knows about me. I have not lied, but I have kept the truth a secret. This is not my first visit to Earth. I spent many years on Earth ... and yet, no time at all. I landed here now in this construction site because I was looking for a great weapon: the Time Matrix.

I open my mind in the ritual of death

Visser Three thinks he has won our long, private war. But I've left a little surprise behind.

I was on top of the universe. I was a hero-inwaiting. Practically a prince already. The war with the Yeerks would be over just as soon as I could get in the game. I was a fool.

Still, we weren’t happy. We knew something was wrong. We broke down our cities, divided the land, and went back to life in simple family scoops.

So, you propel rocks at me! You'll be very sorry you ever propelled a rock at me, human.