As a member of the PC Master Race, I can confirm we watched the console wars of the 80's and 90's with bemused detachment. They were playground skirmishes between noisome children, and of little concern to us, ensconced as we were in our palaces of real time strategy and stately RPGs.
Then the millennia turned, and the consoles turned their eyes greedily to the heavens. "These Old PC Gods have grown complacent," they cried. "We shall topple their gilded kingdom, and divide the spoils between us!". And so they did, and one by one the edifices fell, and the Old Gods were forgotten. "The PC Master Race is dead!" went up the cry. "Now begins the Age of Consoles!".
But you cannot kill a God.
The day came when the skies boiled with dark and baleful clouds, and the earth rumbled like a dualshock controller. And yea, as the horrified people of Consoleton looked on, the earth did rend itself in twain, and from the conflagrant depths rose an atramentous Leviathan, with eyes of vermillion fire. The voices of Consoleton rose up in a single, desperate cry...for mercy, for forbearance. But the eldritch shadow beast knew naught of clemency, and strode forth, preceded by great jets of scalding Steam(TM). And as it moved the earth cracked beneath it, and the skies grew starless black. And all was cold. And silent. Forever.