Sylas stood in silence for a long while, realizing now just what sort of choice was sitting before him.
No, not a choice. There was no choice to be made here.
This was an opportunity. One he could either grasp, or forever be crushed beneath the weight of inferiority.
If what the little girl was saying was correct—and it certainly was—there were only so many Paths to Godhood in existence.
The universe tended toward perfection. Those that were worthy of surviving would, and those that were weak would die out early, or their traits would be eradicated.
It was the simple concept of survival of the fittest, Darwinism as it was understood by Earth.
But what would happen if every time a Race reached the apex, they kicked down the ladder they had used?
If this happened enough times, over enough years, you would eventually reach a state where the universe was so constrained that maybe no God Races would appear anymore.
