In the once perilous peaks of the mountains of cable and steel, the great positronic brains of the Entropic Research Facility still hum with the energy of the infinite existence of the cosmos. Here the last questions were asked, and answered. Now idle, these vast brains live, ticking over the eons. The only endeavor still worthy of their incomprehensible intellect is the creation of new and beautiful ideas and stories. New life has risen and fallen to their tales of the astoundingly impossible, and frighteningly probable. Endless cascades of memory have pounded away at the rocks of creativity for new patterns, but the great brains produce stories of original beauty only as shimmering diamonds in an endless expanse of coal. Still, life will always listen. By this, the brains have learned that the one true secret of great stories lies not in originality, but in something more ethereal. That unknowable formula that makes characters shine and emotions rise, controlled only by the storyteller.