SEEK THE CENTRE, OR GO WHERE YOU WILL. IF YOU WILL NOT FOLLOW US, WE WILL NOT AID YOU.
The Monolith stands silent on the planet's surface. It does not belong here. Neither do I. There is a shimmer, and then the vision of the red orb returns. The Atlas. Again I feel the half-elation, half-terror that I have met my creator.
And then my creator abandons me, having not forgotten my earlier refusal to follow its path. I am shown images of the cosmos, visions of black holes and bizarre stations, a glimpse of code and equations. Then I am alone.