Ajax Blackwell, a Curator of the Church of Epistemological Singularity, opened his eyes and gazed out over the sky beneath him.

  He was seated cross-legged, in the style of ancient monks, on the top of a mountain. The tallest mountain, in fact, on this continent. A strong wind blew through his loose robe, flicking bits of ice and snow into his head of short, black curls.

  He savored the final moments of his Meditate session, the deep flows of quintessence concentrated from thousands of miles in all directions saturating deep within him. A balance achieved… for a time, at least.

  He would hate to leave this planet, when the time came for that. The quintessence here was rich, almost eager, to be grasped and absorbed and put to use. The population, docile and pliable. The climate fair.

  A single corner of his mouth pulled downwards. He had been brought out of his meditation early.

  He closed his eyes fully, not in the half-open manner he had used while focused on gathering quintessence, and entered the mind palace of his System.

  An enormous model of the known galaxy hung in the center of his map room. A single star system glowed red, and with a thought, that star system replaced his view of the galaxy.

  Agrotis. Fifth planet of the system, newly colonized. He vaguely recalled the investment thesis: primarily fronted by the quotidian churls of the Agrarian Guild and a faction of anarchical wrench monkeys. Located outside of the primary quintessence streams, but still with ample promise for a careful, modest return.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  The seventh planet had been potentially more interesting, if at a much higher risk for substantial losses. That was the problem with the Council of Guilds: crushed beneath the weight of their age and advancement, they no longer bore the will to make true breakthroughs. No longer possessed the courage to push forward.

  Their time was written. Their delays and avoidance of the Singularity noted, judged, and sentenced.

  Another corner of his mouth pulled down at the reason for his System’s interruption of his meditation.

  An Integrator had died. That was no reason to rouse him; the biologically compatible weren’t exactly common for that System fork, but… There should not have been an Integrator on Agrotis. That System fork was not needed for that planet’s investment thesis.

  That was strange, but still insufficient reason to wake him from his Meditate Skill. He would need to review his instructions to his Agents for waking him on account of such a minor incident. That he, a Curator of the Church of Epistemological Singularity and the Architect of his System fork, could make such a mistake as to not properly instruct his own System Skills… Frankly, that irked him more than being drawn out of his meditation early.

  But wait… there were more details. The Integrator had been lost in a quintessence void. Maybe this was indeed worth his attention.

  A dead zone? On Agrotis? That was highly unlikely at the current progression curve, unless he misremembered.

  He didn’t misremember.

  The two corners of the Curator’s mouth curved upwards. This was most likely nothing… Not worth his personal time, of course, but dispatching a Deacon? Such an inspection could well yield fruit.