The Balancekeepers

The Creche were not creators in the way humans imagined. They didn’t build new worlds; they tended the broken remains of the old one. Each Creche had a purpose, and the Weaver’s was one of subtle equilibrium. It walked the razor-thin line between intervention and detachment, ensuring that humanity’s growth did not veer too far into its own undoing again.

When necessary, the Creche introduced challenges—subtle obstacles to keep humans grounded in their relationship with the natural world. A failing irrigation system here, a stubborn disease in the crops there. These trials strengthened communities, forcing them to rely on their ingenuity and collaboration rather than retreating into complacency.

The Weaver was particularly skilled in seeding questions. It left behind puzzles in the natural landscape, hidden connections between ecosystems or ancient ruins, meant to inspire humans to look deeper, to learn.

Now, though, the Weaver was troubled. The disturbance it had detected earlier had not faded; it had grown more pronounced. Somewhere in the Wastes, a delicate balance had been upended.

The Weaver adjusted its course, its senses extended to their fullest reach. It felt the faint ripples of entropy in the air, the disruption of energy flows where they should have been smooth.

The humans had been right about one thing: the disturbance was not local. It was further out, far out into the Waste. And it was moving.