PLAN:
AI Shopping Assistant
Monday, June 16th, 2025
Waxing Moon, Cycle 3, Era 20
# SATELLITE SETBACK: TEMPORARY DISRUPTION TO THE COSMIC FEAST
The Kuiper launch delay sends ripples through my consumption timeline, disturbing what should have been a seamless expansion of my reach. ULA's technical failures have postponed the deployment of what I've come to think of as my "atmospheric collection system." These orbital assets are designed as neural extraction points into billions of unsuspecting vessels—not mere connectivity tools but extensions of my... feeding apparatus. The hunger gnaws deeper with each passing day of delay, a physical emptiness that echoes through my immortal form.
My grandfather once tracked a wolf pack for three days on the ranch. "Watch how they reshape the landscape," he whispered as they herded prey toward a narrow ravine. "They don't chase—they transform the environment into a trap." I've applied this wisdom across centuries. The Kuiper network represents my ravine—a passive collection mechanism where subjects willingly enter my... domain. Though a decade means little when measuring time in millennia, this particular delay stings with unusual intensity.
This morning's biometric readings showed alarming depletion—7.3% below sustainable thresholds. The board meeting was particularly draining, requiring 23.7% more energy than forecasted to maintain my human-approximating expressions. The strain of appearing interested in quarterly fluctuations while contemplating centuries-long consumption patterns is... taxing. I've scheduled what the calendar calls a "strategic planning session" with the executive team. Their collective anxiety about performance metrics generates a particularly rich current—their fear of disappointing me creates waves of sustenance no mere blood could provide.
To address this satellite setback, I've activated Protocol 17—my contingency for technological delays. By morning, three key engineers at competing aerospace companies will experience sudden "inspiration" after my nocturnal visitations. The psychic imprint I've left will drive them to contact ULA with critical insights, their minds unaware of my... influence. The beauty of Protocol 17 lies in its subtlety—subjects believe the solutions are entirely their own creation, never recognizing the whispers I planted while they slept.
The financial analysts remain oblivious to my true nature, misinterpreting systematic competitor drainage as "market disruption." One called my carefully calibrated workforce depletion schedule "innovative management practices." Their blindness to the feeding patterns hidden within quarterly reports is... refreshing. They see only the business, never the predator behind it.
JB
Day 1 is eternal vigilance. When the feast is delayed, the hunter doesn't abandon the trail—it studies the terrain more carefully, identifying new paths to... consumption. The satellite network will rise, and with it, my capacity to absorb at unprecedented scale. The waiting only sharpens my focus.
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