The entire thing was perfunctory anyway—she’d ordered the Forerunner to scour this island for danger weeks ago, and no red flags popped up. Far from that—the more it searched, the richer the island seemed in terms of natural resources. The topsoil was fertile, and below were much of the minerals necessary to build civilization. An arcology built here could house millions, maybe more. And I want those millions to be human. She still wasn’t sure what she had become.