Location: Unknown Starcluster.

  Somewhere deep in the darkest depths of space, a freshly minted System Admin floats amidst the center of a blinking room. Lights flash within the chrome vestibule. The Admin’s robes are cut of the smoothest cloth. Voluminous robes flutter about thin, greenish wrists. An oblong head blinks three eyes, sclera black as pitch.

  Administrator Pei crosses its arms behind their back. All is well. How could it not be? The System is vast. The System is prosperous — it is prosperity incarnate. Never before has a Dao manifested so strongly within the local universe. Not in Pei’s lifetime. Because of this, Administrator Pei considers themself blessed.

  A map floats in space, golden light trailing it like so much stardust. The 4D representation of Administrator Pei’s locality fills them with deep, abiding joy. Their peace is the quantum’s peace. In a peaceful realm lies a peaceful heart.

  That is not to say there is no conflict.

  Administrator Pei snaps their fingers. A door slides open. Through it flops a strange, fish-like creature. It scurries over to Administrator Pei. It sucks in a painful lungful of harsh, oxygen-rich air.

  Administrator Pei casually reaches down, holds the fish-creature overhead, and squeezes it like a wet towel. The fish-creature’s eyes pop comically as liquid leaks from its skin, dripping onto the bald head of Administrator Pei.

  In the Highest Heavens, there exist more things than can be tossed into a tractor tanker and tossed into the many burning suns of Zeta Epsilon.

  Administrator Pei tosses the gasping fish-creature toward a wall. It hits the wall with a light thump and slides toward the ground, pulled inexorably downward by the ship’s gravity field. At the last possible second, a hatch slides open, swallowing the creature, cutting of its harsh gasps.

  Administrator Pei smoothes their long, white whiskers with their freshly moistened fingers. Their eyes glitter wetly as Pei considers the age-old paradox: without conflict, one cannot enforce their peace upon the universe.

  All the war. The killing. The backroom slush funds. The subordination of millions upon millions of lesser species. In the end, it’s all worth it.

  So long as there is peace.

  Ding!

  Administrator Pei’s long, curly unibrow twitches. It has been a long time since they’ve heard that sound, of the Dao requesting immediate action.

  “Hmm.”

  A fraction of an instant later, Pei recognizes the stain upon their golden map. A red blotch so tiny, they might have missed it, had Pei not been dreading it.

  Dread.

  Until now, they hadn’t realized they’d been expecting something to go horribly wrong. In hindsight, their paranoia makes perfect sense. Toss enough Vex’trata bodies into the heart of a black hole, you begin to understand that yes, they really are out to get you.

  Administrator Pei takes an instant register the feeling and compartmentalize it.

  They are the eldest of the Woat, the sole survivor of the Dao’s arrival exactly one thousand years prior. They have led the greatest of sects and defeated the most heinous of foes. Under Pei’s guidance, their planet has flourished into one prosperous enough to guide a host of freshly integrated species into the wider multiverse.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  They opens a System prompt, which discusses one such species.

  Humanity.

  A primitive species of moderate potential.

  Before reading the notification, Administrator Pei thought-queries the System. Their [Prosperity Dao Administration] skill is high enough that they have no trouble at all accessing what little information exists about the creatures. Through a series of formations too complex for even Pei’s understanding, the System funnels and translates data into a series of glowing screens and diagrams.

  Thanks to this, Administrator Pei discovers that a natural formation of planets forty-two lightyears away has passively picked up the energy signals of Humanity’s nascent thought-mind, a loosely connected exchange of thoughts growing steadily.

  The Internet, humanity calls it.

  A dull name for a dull species.

  Administrator Pei is mildly amused to note how humanity has partitioned the fledgling thought-mind across continental bodies. Are they are unconsciously replicating partitions inherent to human brains?

  Administrator Pei immediately shuts down the data stream. Pleasurable as it is to meditate upon the Dao, they have no time to spend the next hundred years sifting through the biologics of a backwater planet, of which only a single civilization has touched upon the truth of the Dao.

  Pitiful.

  Administrator Pei checks their System clock. Two hours have passed. Much too long.

  “Tsk.”

  Annoyed, the Administrator once again turns their attention to the System notification, this time equipped with a rudimentary understanding of “humanity”.

  Their scowl morphs into an upside-down crescent moon.

  “Emergency?” they mutters, tugging their unibrow. “What emergency integration? What is this?”

  A vein atop the Administrators’ head bulges as the System delivers to them a detailed accounting of the most recent instance of an Emergency System Integration, one initiated approximately three million years prior.

  Administrator Pei clicks their third tongue.

  The accounting is grim.

  To say the prior emergency integration failed would be like saying the Dao is somewhat useful. It is an understatement of grand proportions. A criminal act of gross negligence, so grave was the System’s failure.

  The System was forced to cut it’s losses and seal the planet in question.

  The Administrator strokes their moist head. It is strange. Absurd, even.

  The System does not have “emergencies.” The System is the emergency.

  And yet.

  Administrator Pei turns, robes billowing, slowly spinning to face the blinking System Quest directly. They re-read the screen. The contents of their mind subtly rearrange as Pei’s worldview shudders under the weight of fresh perspective.

  X-Rank Prosperity Dao Administration Quest: Quarantine Earth

  Administrator Pei briefly closes their eyes, restraining the urge to point their favorite tractor tanker team to planet Earth.

  They will settle for a nice sponge bath instead.

  Administrator Pei sends the thought-request to the ship, which corrals subservient Qwalter-kin into a pressure chamber for squeezing. The Qwalter-kin’s cries go unheard by all but the ship’s AI, which is much to polite to mention it.

  Administrator Pei crosses their legs and closes their eyes. They consider how to best use their Administrator powers to coordinate the quarantine of a single planet beset by powers great enough to make the System—the Dao of Prosperity itself—shudder.

  Administrator Pei twitches as they realize how much control the System is willing to grant Pei, if only they will carry out the Dao’s Will.

  It’s a lot of control.

  Really.

  More than Administrator Pei thought possible. The possibilities range from Quest disbursement to prioritization of embassy goods. Hells! Administrator Pei could mine the planet for Sect resources, if Pei wanted.

  Which they don’t.

  Such a thing would be absurd.

  Administrator Pei rubs together their moistened fingers.

  Them? An administrator of the Dao’s will? Mine a backwater planet of partially evolved apes for personal gain, spitting in the face of the Supreme Beings who descended upon Pei’s home planet from the Highest Heavens?

  The very same Beings who, this very moment, exploit Pei’s star system for karma?

  A grin slithers its way across the Admin’s face. They type a few pointed instructions into their System interface.

  Lightyears away away, blue notifications begin popping up across a green and blue planet marked for emergency quarantine…