The emissaries called them Architects. Not gods, not invaders—something stranger. They did not offer doctrine, nor weapons, nor grand proclamations. They merely existed, and by existing, they revealed. The Consortium’s worlds pulsed with excitement and dread. Engineers who had once toiled for decades unraveled the secrets of transdimensional metallurgy overnight. Artists painted with colors that had never existed before. Economies bloomed, cities reshaped themselves, and the Nine were no longer as they had been.
But when the laborers carved spires into the sky without lifting a tool, when the genetic weavers sculpted new life with a thought, the questions emerged:
The Architects did not teach; they merely were, and by observing them, the Nine changed. A civilization accustomed to struggle found itself without limits, and soon, without definition.
Curiosity became necessity, necessity became hunger. The Architects were probed, questioned, followed. A thousand scholars sought to decipher their origin, their purpose. They were omnipresent, yet indifferent. What had seemed a gift began to feel like an experiment, or worse, an infection.
Then, as inexplicably as they had come, the Architects ceased to be. They left no ships, no ruins, not even footprints in the dust. Yet the Nine remained changed, more powerful than ever.
And as they looked upon their new selves, stronger but uncertain, they whispered into the void, hoping for an answer. Because deep within, they knew—something interesting is coming soon.
©2025 Driftox. A vision of JS and ZW on the decentralized use of artificial intellgence.