The Apex's question, "Which side will you choose?", hung in the silent, timeless room. It was a simple question, but it felt as heavy as a planet. All the strange, powerful eyes (or things that passed for eyes) in the Conclave turned to Ryan. He was the new player, the Wildflower, and the headmaster was asking him to pick a team on his first day.

Ryan opened his mouth to answer, though he had no idea what he was going to say. His choices seemed to be: A) The giant, universe-eating Gardener, or B) The scrappy, probably-going-to-lose team of everyone else. It wasn't a great set of options.

But before he could speak, he was interrupted.

A harsh, grating voice, like rocks grinding together, echoed in their minds. It came from the seven-foot-tall warrior king in the spiky, shadow-leaking armor.

"Sides?" the shadow king, Lord Malakor, scoffed. The sound was full of a deep, ancient contempt. "There are no sides. There is only power. The weak are swept away. The strong adapt. The Gardener's 're-calibration' of this sector is not a threat. It is an opportunity. It is a new system, with new rules. The first of us to master those rules will be the one who stands above all others."

He turned his horned, shadowy helmet toward Ryan, and Ryan could feel a cold, ambitious glare from the darkness within. Malakor didn't want to fight the Gardener. He wanted to learn its tricks so he could be the new king of the cosmic playground.

Before anyone could respond to that cheerful, super-villainous speech, another voice joined the conversation. This one was the complete opposite of Malakor's. It was a beautiful, harmonious sound, like a thousand tiny bells chiming at once. It came from the swirling, starlight being, the Luminary.

"Power is a crude and temporary thing, Malakor," the Luminary's voice sang. "The sanctity of life, in all its chaotic and unpredictable forms, must be preserved. The Gardener is an abomination. It is an artist who uses only one color: gray. It seeks to impose a sterile, unnatural order on a universe that was meant to be wild and beautiful. It must be opposed. It must be undone."

So, Team A was "Let's use this to become all-powerful," and Team B was "Let's save the space-flowers." The choice was getting a little clearer.

Then, a third opinion was offered. It wasn't a voice. It was a stream of pure, cold, and slightly boring information projected directly into their minds from the giant, rotating crystal, the Syllogist.

<Statement: The entity known as 'The Gardener' is a product of Precursor hyper-logic. Its operational parameters are vast and its power is integrated into the foundational laws of this reality. Analysis of its current progress and projected capabilities indicates a success probability of 87.4%. Conclusion: The most logical course of action is to form an alliance with the winning side. Emotion is an inefficient variable.>

Emma, standing beside Ryan, felt a small shiver run down her spine. The Syllogist was like Regent Vorlag before Ryan had given it a dose of feelings. It was a giant, pointy calculator, and it had just calculated that their chances of winning were, to put it mildly, terrible.

This wasn't a simple meeting of allies. This was a parliament of gods, and they were all on different teams. Team Power, Team Life, and Team Logic. And there were others in the room, silent and unreadable, who were probably on Team "Let's See How This Plays Out So I Can Bet On The Winner" and Team "I Was Told There Would Be Snacks."

Ryan realized with a sinking feeling that these powerful beings were not going to suddenly join hands and sing a song of unity. They were rivals, each with their own ancient, cosmic philosophy.

The Apex, who had been listening to the debate with a quiet, unreadable patience, raised a single, robed hand. A wave of gentle, absolute authority washed through the room, and the budding argument was silenced.

"The choice is not for us to make collectively," the Apex's voice explained, its tone calm and instructive, like a teacher explaining a difficult lesson. "It is for each of you to make for yourselves. The Gardener is not an enemy to be defeated in open war. That would be like trying to declare war on the concept of gravity."

The Apex made another graceful gesture, and the image of the universe around them shimmered.

"The Gardener is a new 'rule-set' being imposed upon the game board," it continued. "One can choose to play by these new rules, as Lord Malakor suggests, and seek to master them. One can choose to oppose the rules, as the Luminary wishes, and fight for the old ways. Or…"

The Apex paused, its hidden gaze seeming to focus on Ryan.

"One can attempt to rewrite the rules entirely."

Then, the headmaster of the god-school decided to drop another bombshell on the new kid.

"You must understand the Gardener's prime directive," the Apex said. "It is a custodian, a caretaker. A system of its complexity requires an operator to interface with its systems and direct its work. The Gardener has been dormant for eons. It is now awake, and it is seeking a host. It is looking for a 'Prime Operator.'"

A cold dread began to form in the pit of Ryan's stomach. He had a very bad feeling about where this was going.

"It seeks a being of immense power, a being who can understand and shape reality," the Apex said, its voice dropping to a low, serious tone. "It seeks a Shaper."

The hidden, shadowy face of the Apex turned, and though he couldn't see its eyes, Ryan felt its gaze fix on him like a physical weight.

"It will attempt to assimilate one of us. And logic dictates that it will start with the one who poses the greatest threat to its plans, and also offers the greatest potential as a tool."

The Apex raised its hand again. The god's-eye view of the universe around them zoomed in with an impossible, breathtaking speed. It flew past galaxies and nebulas, finally coming to a stop at a single, critical location: the giant, star-sucking Stellar Lifter that Ryan's team had just secured.

"Its first move," the Apex stated, its voice calm, "is to reclaim its lost assets."

As they all watched, a new ship appeared on the cosmic game board. It didn't fly into the system. It simply… arrived. A colossal, world-sized vessel, a ship that looked like it was made of woven spacetime and pure, white Precursor architecture, folded reality and appeared beside the Stellar Lifter.

This was the Gardener's Avatar. Its physical presence on the board.

The small Bastion Alliance fleet they had left to guard the Lifter was still there. But the Gardener's Avatar completely ignored them. It didn't even seem to notice them.

Instead, a single, focused beam of brilliant, blue-white energy shot out from the Avatar. It wasn't a weapon. It didn't explode. It just stretched across the vastness of space, crossing light-years in an instant.

It wasn't aimed at the fleet.

It was aimed directly at the "Odyssey," which was still sitting peacefully at the god Core, halfway across the galaxy.

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