James announced as he, the A.I., and even the candidate pored through copious amounts of code. Each of them had removed what seemed to be endless amounts of the golden filaments from Kali’s avatar and were hunched over separate tables along the curved glass windows of Cloud 9 restaurant. Thel watched impatiently as the rain continued to fall and streak the windows, while fires burned throughout the city, and the NPCs roared in mobs, chasing down smaller mobs and tearing them horrifically to shreds before, once they’d completed their task, they turned on each other. It was the worst perversion of Darwin’s theories, played out in a mathematical horror show. She turned from the horror, her arms folded over her chest. “I don’t like this. Aldous is clearly going to try sabotage the Purists.” “We don’t know that for sure,” James cautioned. “It’s well within the realm of possibility, however,” the A.I. pointed out. “Exactly,” Thel said, gesturing to the A.I. before looking adamantly at James.
