The Tide of Meaning had arrived.
There had been no warning, no boundary. It rose from the deepest layer of every consciousness's perception, like warm amniotic fluid, enveloping every being capable of thought.
The sages of the Radiance Domain had been meditating when the "question of existence" that had troubled them for so long suddenly vanished. In its place came a fullness of satisfaction—existence itself was sacred, and silent observation was fulfillment. A serene sweetness that made them unwilling to think further or explore further spread throughout the civilization.
In the Vortex of Proliferation, the creators collectively experienced an "explosion of inspiration" amid their revelry. Every thought was endowed with epic significance; even the tiniest doodle seemed to contain the truth of the universe. Ecstatic, they squandered energy even more recklessly, tearing reality into dazzling yet fleeting fireworks.
Those weak civilizations on the margins sank directly into the tender dreamland woven by the tide. Some "saw" the Paradise of their departed ancestors; some immersed themselves in visions of everlasting peace; some found contentment in the simplest repetitive labor, believing that this was all life could be.
"Report: the consciousness activity curves across all dimensions are abnormal!" the Absolute One's alarm rang out. "They haven't declined—they've become inwardly self-circling! Thought is still continuing, but all of it is being directed into closed loops of self-satisfaction! The indices for exploratory, critical, and connective thought have plummeted!"
The light and shadow around the Primordial Origin rippled. "An infusion of meaning... This is the gentlest anesthetic. All beings no longer suffer, but they have also lost their edge."
Order's Dawn tried to contact friendly civilizations, but the replies it received were filled with peaceful yet hollow platitudes. "Everything is well. No change is needed."
The crisis had arrived in the least crisis-like way possible.