Her eyebrows rose, and he let his gaze drift, across the catalog only he could see, to one particular line.
Foundation refinement. Five thousand Osmontian Biomass to elevate one of his nine Passive Osmontian Principium Foundations by a tier. And of the nine terrifying Foundations, the one he was looking at, the one he wanted, was THE Tide That Owes Nothing.
It was the obvious play, once a being thought past the next second. He could grind out points slowly and pour them into his Intent or his Infinity and feel grander right away, today, this hour. Or he could feed the Tide. Elevate the Foundation that already paid him a thousandfold on every act of giving, and watch it begin paying more, ranking by ranking, so that every gift he made and every share his people earned returned a richer flood of Biomass than before. He would not see the result the instant he bought it. The return would lag, the way returns did!
