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When I was a child, I told my mother

I wanted to learn every planet
in the Galactic Empire…

beginning in the center
and moving out to Star's End.

Each night, she told me stories.

I traveled light-years…

my mind expanding
to hold more and more worlds.

But I never reached Terminus.

Straddling the farthest reaches
of civilization, unsettled by man…

it was the end.

And its story remained dark to me
until many years later.

Until it became my story.

Until it became…

the only story.

- Don't do that.
- Sorry.

- Where are the others?
- We're meeting them at the fence.

We're a bit late.

Come on, guys.

- Gia!
- It's so rocky.

Shit.

A bishop's claw.

- Up-valley.
- We need to be real quiet.

The null field starts all the way
up there. Near that rock.

They called it "the Vault."

All the colonists knew for certain

was that it projected a field
designed to keep people away.

No one could breach it.

Right, you gonna go first?

I thought you were first?

You go first
and put your marker past the rock,

- I'll let you touch my tit.
- Gia.

For one minute.

Ten seconds.

Or you can look at 'em both for 30.

Swear on your moon.

Four-sworn.

- You get nothing if you win.
- Get to watch him piss his pants.

He isn't gonna make it.

Come on, Keir.

Keir.

Are you okay?

- Your brother is an assclaw.
- Gia, stop laughing at him.

- He's pathetic.
- I was almost there. I was close.

Poly, where you going?

- Shit. Poly!
- Poly, come back!

- We don't have a deal.
- I know.

I wanna see the ghost.

Okay.

Shit.

- Poly?
- He's not moving.

Poly?

- We gotta get help.
- What you standing there for then?

They're all gone. Eat.

I saw the ghost.

You saw me.

Eat.

You should've turned back,
like your boy Keir.

People who've tried to get closer
have been hurt. Really.

You weren't.

You got the record and you're okay.

Am I?

Your mark is so far,
no one's ever seen it.

That's because it doesn't exist.
And neither does the ghost.

When do you think it's going
to tell us what it is, Warden?

Call me Salvor.

And you assume it
cares anything about us?

It doesn't.

It's not just people it keeps away.
It's everything. It's birds, insects.

No one's ever gotten through
the null field, and no one ever will.

It's warning us to stay away.
So stop tempting fate.

Go. Be careful.

- There's a bishop's claw...
- Up-valley. I know.

Salvor Hardin. Hober Mallow. The Mule.

I would learn these names one day.

The heroes and villains
fighting for the salvation of mankind.

But to understand our future,

we have to remember the past
and the ones who caused it all.

A mathematician.

A martyr.

A murderer.

And the most important player of all,
Hari Seldon.

She'll be on her way soon.

It will all work out, Raych.

Everything is dying.

That doesn't mean it won't all work out.

Do you ever wish there was another way?

Every day, son.

But this is the optimal time.

86,960,947.

86,960,957.

86,960,971.

- 86,960,987...
- It's time.

Gaal? Are you ready?

Yes.

All my life, I looked out and dreamed
of being somewhere else.

Now I realize
how much I'll miss this view.

I have to remember it perfectly.

No, you don't.

We can petition the Seer priests.

It's not too late for you to stop this.

It's not too late for you to stay.

No.

There's no place for me here anymore,
Mom.

I'll die if I stay here.

But on Trantor, I'll be safe.

Accepted.

Hold your head high.

That's her.

They all hate me.

You don't hate me, do you?

Never, Gaal. I'll always love you.

My greatest joy.

Come with me.

We'd be lost out there.

Go.

I love you.

Go, child.

Beginning transfer sequence.

Please move to jumppods
and secure for travel.

Did you say something?

No. But I was going to ask

if this was
your first time on an imperial jumpship.

Yes. It is. I'm a bit nervous.

Just place your hand on the screen.

- And it will scan your metrics.
- Thank you.

- Jerril.
- Gaal.

Synnax?

Picked up just a hint of it
in your accent.

You don't hear it much at the Core,

but I travel near
the rim worlds sometimes.

Whoever took the prayer stones out
did a great job.

You wouldn't see the scars
if you didn't know to look.

Sorry if I overstepped.

It doesn't screw me up,

but some people come out of the jump
feeling a little hungover.

I don't drink.

My parents dove an algae farm,
and we woke up pretty early.

You're gonna sleep through this.
They make sure of it.

They can't have the grav on
during the jump. I don't know why.

Well, the grav generators
output a waveform

that corrupts the jumpdrive's ability

to plot fourth-dimensional points
at transdimensional speeds.

Why are you going to Trantor?

I'm going to work with Hari Seldon.

I won a math contest.

Wow. Hari Seldon. And you from Synnax.

It was a pretty big contest.

Commencing jump in three, two, one.

How are you awake?

It's a pity we have to sleep
through the jump.

It's supposed to be
quite the light show.

But if you're not a Spacer,

you can find your body and mind
taking different trips.

I slept through the whole thing.

…and prepare to disembark.

Wow.

If the Empire is good for anything,
they can damn well build.

This is incredible.

Welcome to Trantor,
the eye of the Empire.

Please respect and enjoy the peace.

Are those soldiers?

Probably didn't make the news
on your world,

some sort of kerfuffle
at the galaxy's edge,

Anacreon and Thespis.

Imperial appraisers got caught
in the cross fire,

so now it's a big deal.

Sponsor and contact?

Dr. Hari Seldon. Streeling University.

Expected return to home planet?

I'm not going back. This is my home now.

Any car on the stalk.
Please respect and enjoy the peace.

Thank you.

Now that I know you a little better,

I won't waste my breath
explaining everything.

This part is great though.

Please make your
way to any available car.

This car will commence
its descent down the stalk momentarily.

I'm gonna stay awake the whole ride.

Me too.

It takes 14 hours to drop from
Trantor Station to the planet's surface.

Although, technically,
it's not the surface.

Billions of citizens spend their lives
beneath Trantor's outer shell,

toiling away on
a hundred subterranean levels

without ever seeing the sun
or the stars.

Whatever remained of the natural world
belonged to the Emperors.

Dawn.

Day.

Dusk.

The Genetic Dynasty.

Clones of Cleon I,
decanted at different ages.

Master Orlio.

Empire.

How long have you worked for us?

Sixty-eight privileged years, Empire.

Started cleaning the
Mural when I was 12.

Gone from one end to the other
four times over since then.

Know every grain of chroma by heart now.

Tell me, are there some colors
more resistant to cleaning than others?

Plum.

Periwinkle.

Saffron is a particularly
truculent pigment.

What about crimson?
Is crimson truculent?

Empire?

It's come to our attention

that a tract authored by Hari Seldon
was discovered in your quarters.

Apologies, Empire. It was foolish of me.

It's just that I'd...

Heard whispers of his proclamations
and were curious.

They refer to Seldon
as "the Raven," don't they?

I hear he's rather critical
of the Imperium.

Well, I'm happy to report
that his words are baseless trash,

and atrociously written, if I might add.

Nevertheless,
the man has amassed a following.

People who hinge their hopes
on every word Raven Seldon utters.

Words have a way
of fanning into wildfires, Orlio.

I am loyal, Empire. I would never...

I know you won't, which is why
I broached this subject in person.

Empire...

What are your lessons this morning,
Brother Dawn?

The Outer Reach kingdoms.

I learned an old Anacreon song
about hunting.

Well, there is much truth in music.

A boy bleeds a fawn with a knife
and then takes shelter in her coat.

That one's not really a hunting song.

That's a dirty song
about a boy's first time with a woman.

Play it back in your mind.
And don't confuse the two.

Brother Day, please leave
the peacock to the cooks.

You'll be no less fascinating
to your biographers.

Brother Dusk imagines
I do this to be colorful.

And Brother Day puts more
words in my mouth than he does poultry.

It's the lard.

The cooks inject it under the skin
with a needle right before roasting.

- Do you know why they use a needle?
- Because it's efficient?

Because they're afraid
if they use a knife,

as is the time-honored way,
they might rip the skin,

and I'll send
them to a stew-pot stall 50 levels down.

All of which is a problem. Why?

Because when people are afraid
to do their job right,

they're certain to do it wrong.

- That's poor stewardship.
- It's poor roast peacock.

Not everything is a teachable moment.

Empire.

Demerzel.

The delegations from Thespis
and Anacreon are arriving.

- How did they seem?
- Peevish.

Barbarian kingdoms.
They're more trouble than they're worth.

Have Outer Reach Trade bring
tariff projections to the residence.

Dress nice.

Have someone brush your hair.

It's not the most important thing
we'll do this week,

but it's the most important thing
they'll do in their lifetime.

Anacreon and Thespis.
Observe the mannerisms of each party.

They hate each other.

Their enmity is legendary.
But war is expensive.

And so we have called them
onto the carpet to broker a peace.

Thanks for the company.

Good luck with the new job.
I hope Hari Seldon is worth the trip.

Thanks.

Cute.

Raych, Raych, Raych. Where are you?

- That's me.
- What?

That's me, Raych.

I work for Hari. Dr. Seldon.

- Baggage Claim is this way.
- No.

No. This is all I have.

Okay.

Then the rest of planet is this way.

It's supposed to be a perfect replica.

Not that we'd know
under the outer shell.

Half of level 64 is just
servers running skies.

Is there still a Seer church
here on Trantor?

Down there, I think. Level 22.

I'd like to see it.

What?

Sorry, I've...

I've never met anyone from Synnax
before.

An expression of compassion
and stewardship,

the Mural of Souls,

worked on every day by the senior member
of the Genetic Dynasty.

The Mural depicts the four-century age
of peace and the Galactic Family.

Notice the active chroma?
How the pigment subtly moves?

Provincial Ambassador Xandem.

Do you have a question or a comment
about the Mural?

We were just marveling
at the Empire's benevolent reach.

For it is a marvel.

86,963,537.

86,963,549.

86,963,563.

963,567.

86,963,573…

- Are you praying?
- No. Why?

Your lips were moving.

Yeah. When I'm nervous, I count primes.

Hari said you'd wanna see this.

Gaal, meet Hari.

Dr. Seldon.

I am so honored you invited me here.

What did you think
of the Imperial Library?

It's amazing.
So many books in one place.

I imagine books were hard
to come by on Synnax.

Please, sit.

So,

you know Kalle's Ninth Proof of Folding?

Yes, I couldn't have solved
Abraxas without it.

No one else thought to use it.

Not in 500 years.

Why do you think that is?

Kalle's writing is poetic.

It's beautiful, but it's hard to imagine
there's any rigor there.

So serious scholars don't read her.

Why did you?

I went to Kalle
for the rhythm of the words at first.

I missed the math.

But when I read between the lines,

I realized she was proposing
a radical theory

about rings of integers
in non-Archimedean local fields.

Indeed she was.

It does make me wonder, though,

how you've managed to stumble across
Kalle's Ninth Proof

in the first place,

given where you were.

This isn't Synnax, Gaal.

Curiosity isn't a crime here.

I was lonely.

Almost no one there
thought like I thought.

But math doesn't take sides.
It doesn't judge.

I imagine you were lonely,
a mind like yours in a place like that.

Kalle's original proof manuscript.

Written in her native Thraxian.

They're going to arrest me tomorrow.
And you.

- What?
- It's almost a certainty.

Arrest? Why?

There's a nonzero
chance it won't happen.

But it's not a number worth discussing.

No. This has to be a mistake.

People lie, Gaal. Numbers don't.

Are you familiar with my work?
Psychohistory?

- Every mathematician has read your...
- Do you agree with the concept?

In theory. But I don't know
what it has to do with...

It's not a theory.

It's the destiny of the human race
expressed in numbers.

And it's the reason
the Empire will take us.

They're worried
you can predict the future.

They're worried people believe I can.

And they don't like
the future I predict.

Which is what?

Trantor is going to be destroyed.
The Empire will fall.

You understand, these aren't things
I'm anxious to tell people.

It's just what the math tells me.

Why let me come all this way
just to arrest me?

That's a good question. You tell me.

Because I solved Abraxas.

They think I'm the only one
who can prove you wrong.

And you are, if I was. But I'm not.

Did you know all this
when you were showing me the sights?

There's more at stake here
than you can imagine, Gaal.

I risked my life coming here.

And now you want me to risk it again
just to support your numbers?

That's not entirely accurate,
is it, Gaal?

You left Synnax
one step ahead of arrest yourself.

So you know math is never just numbers.

In the wrong hands, it's a weapon.

In the right hands, deliverance.

Go.

Get some sleep.

It should take them most of the night
to divine your hotel.

We'll talk soon.

I know it's not the prize
you came here for…

but it will have to do.

- I can't keep this.
- Of course you can.

This building will burn one day.

Stealing is a mercy.

I've read all his work, psychohistory.

I just never imagined
he'd use it this way.

The Empire isn't gonna hurt you.
They need you.

You don't know that.
And neither does he.

- Gaal...
- No.

You haven't seen it.

When a planet wants you dead, you die.

Ambassador Xandem,
Planet Anacreon, Outer Reach.

Empire.

Carved from the oldest tree
in the Tallyn Forest.

The same wood used to carve the bow

of Anacreon's greatest hunter,
Larken Keaen.

Thank you, Ambassador.

Did you enjoy the Mural of Souls?

Yes, Empire.
I have never seen anything like it.

Honored Diplomat Shae Un Shae,
Planet Thespis, Outer Reach.

Empire.

A Thespin Book of Ablution.

The filigree was recently smithed
to honor the imperial peace.

Thank you, Honored Diplomat.

And thank you, both delegations,
for making the journey to Trantor.

Not that you had a choice.

For nine centuries, the Anthor Belt
Agreement served your planets well.

Last year,
Thespis identified a rogue asteroid,

which they believe drifted
from the area governed by the agreement.

We took no official position.

Just our 10%.

Anacreon believes
Thespis acts in bad faith.

The Empire believes
imperial blood has been shed

on a cold rock 50,000 light-years
from home.

For any of these three beliefs,
a thousand wars have been fought.

The next days will determine
if there will be another.

Respect and enjoy the peace.

Respect and enjoy the peace.

Brother Dawn, what do you make of that?

The Thespins want to remind you

how important the Anthor Belt asteroids
are to their religion.

But look there. In the metal filigree.

The pattern in the sigil
is made of heavy palladium.

The metal from the rogue asteroid.
How much would you say of the sigil?

- Maybe a fifth of it?
- Closer to a quarter.

Currently, the Thespins tithe 10%
of the mined ore to us.

This is their way of quietly saying

they'll go all the way to 25%
if we side with them.

There's no metal here at all.
Not even in the arrow tips.

That's right. Why?

The Anacreons need palladium.

They have none.

It's like the hunting song.
It's not at all about hunting.

Art is simply politics' sweeter tongue.

The customs of the Outer Reach
may seem idiosyncratic.

But our attention to detail
is how we maintain the peace.

And if the people step out of line,
we hit them with a big stick.

Thank you.

Seldon and the girl.

Don't overthink the stick.

The Seer church. Do we have time?

Yeah.

She can sit. He will stand.

But he will need to disarm.

The heretic and I will talk.

Upon awakening…

Upon awakening…

We speak the words.

And the words make us seen.

Do you know who I am?

I know that she has torn
the Sleeper's words from her face

and can't be seen by God.

But do you know who I am?

She has solved
one of life's ancient puzzles

and cheapened the worth of life
in the solving.

Of course I know.

On Synnax, she is almost as famous
as her new god, Seldon.

- He's not a god.
- No, he is not.

He will die as all men like him die,
unseen by God.

As will his followers. As will she.

Gaal Dornick. I'll say this once,

because I am the highest-ranking and
only Seer priest on this

forsaken world.

If you are in trouble, I can help you.

Is that what you want?

You want me to stay?

Will that stop them from arresting me?

No.

I'll be all right.

- I'll see you.
- Will you?

Of course.

Some like to pray one last time.

Did you?

No.

What did you make of her?

They haven't gotten to her yet.

Yet.

What do you make of her?

She solved Abraxas on her own.
I'm sure of that.

As for the other question,
well, we shall see.

My name's Lors Avakim.

Hari sent me.

Where is he?

Arrested. As he predicted.

You've both been charged
with high treason,

conspiracy to destabilize the Imperium.

This is a nightmare.

Hari wants you to know how sorry he is
for involving you in this.

It's not his fault.

Is it?

We can speak freely now.

Once the Imperium learned
of Hari's conclusions,

they made no secret
of trying to disrupt the project.

Did Hari bring me here as bait?
Because I can prove him wrong?

He's not wrong, Ms. Dornick.

But yes on the bait part.

Are you all right?

The hook hurts,
but I'm trying not to wriggle too much.

All rise.

The tribunal of Cleon XII is convened.

Your Exalted, the offenders,
Dr. Hari Seldon and Gaal Dornick,

are accused of crimes so grave
that they threaten not just Trantor

but the entire galaxy's existence.

I will prove that Dr. Seldon
and his followers

engaged in a conspiracy designed
to destroy the confidence in our empire.

Dr. Seldon. Will you rise?

You hail from the world of Helicon, yes?

Yes.

Will you state your current position
here on Trantor?

I'm a professor of probability theory
at Streeling University.

Specifically, the area of psychohistory.

Define that for us, please.

Psychohistory is a predictive model

designed to forecast the behavior
of very large populations.

In plainspoken terms, you claim
to be able to predict the future?

Well, I don't know
what you're going to have for dinner,

if that's what you're asking.

You know what I'm asking.

The Galactic Empire comprises
some eight trillion individuals.

Would you say that was a large enough
sample to make a prediction?

It is.

And do you have a prediction
for that particular sample?

I do.

Indulge us.

Trantor and the Galactic Empire
will lie in ruins

within five centuries.

Silence, brethren.

Accepting your statement for the moment,
can you prove it's true?

Only to another mathematician
conversant in ordinal analysis.

How convenient.

Your truths are so esoteric

- they escape the grasp
- They're not my truths.

- of nearly every citizen.
- They belong to science.

The Imperium is 12,000 years old,
Doctor.

Are we really to believe
that it could be gone in just 500?

- Maybe quicker.
- Quicker?

A rotten tree trunk appears strong
until the storm breaks it in two.

Consider recent events
in the Outer Reach.

We're not here to consider any other...

But you must!

The Empire will fall.

Order will vanish.

Interstellar wars will be endless.

Ten thousand worlds reduced
to radioactive cinders.

Nothing we do can prevent this.

This… period of barbarism.

How long do you claim it will last?

Thirty thousand years, Advocate.

I submit to the court
that Dr. Seldon's "predictions"

are actually intended
to destroy public confidence.

I'm not a revolutionary.

Well, then what are you?

You've already said
the future cannot be changed.

So what exactly is the purpose
of your project?

I'm trying to soften the fall.

It cannot be prevented,

this mass of events rushing to meet us.

But we can shorten
the dark ages that follow.

How much?

If we embrace your plan, how much?

We should be in the dark
for a thousand years, Advocate.

And if that is all,
we should thank the gods for it.

My name's not really Jerril.

But you can keep calling me that.

We've been watching you for some time.

From the moment you solved
the Abraxas Conjecture, in fact.

I brought you a gift.

He calls it the Prime Radiant.
It's beautiful, isn't it?

He claims it contains all of his
predictions concerning the Empire,

expressed as a mathematical equation.

Did he allow you to examine it?

No.

Now, don't you think that's curious?

He devises a theory so opaque

that
no one in the galaxy can understand it,

and when he finds an individual who can,

he doesn't allow her
a look behind the curtain.

Why?

Because history is littered
with charlatans and false messiahs.

What if he's telling the truth?
What if psychohistory is real?

If his equations are flawed,

you have a moral obligation
to expose them.

And if they hold true?

Disavow them and go home.

And I promise you, Empire will find
a way to express his gratitude.

I'll make the calculus
simple for you, Gaal.

If you say Hari's a liar, he dies.

If you don't, you die.

So, we should just all
bury our heads in the sand then?

If his equations hold true,

then Empire will set about
solving the problem as we always have,

without terrifying trillions of people.

And I should believe in you, a spy?

You should believe
in the minds that built Trantor,

built the jumpdrive,
that built the Star Bridge.

Where I come from, they call those
scientists, not politicians.

I know where you come from, Gaal.

They were called heretics and drowned.

And I also know
what happened on the jumpship.

During the jump…

you were awake.

You were aware.

- Why did you lie to me about it?
- I don't know.

It scares me.

What does?

Being different.

We're all different, Ms. Dornick.

My sister didn't speak
until she was seven.

And even then, just nouns.

But you're something else.

And if you don't know what it is,
I urge you to figure it out

before someone else does
and uses it against you.

You claim your plan
can reduce the coming darkness.

How?

The ancients are rumored

to have built
a repository for the world's wisdom.

According to myth, it burned down.

I'm proposing something
less centralized.

An Encyclopedia Galactica.

After the fall, as civilization climbs
from the ashes,

the coming generations
will have something to build upon,

a foundation.

They won't have to reinvent the wheel.

The knowledge will already exist.

But it isn't just knowledge
we'd be saving,

but humanity's story.

Our story.

Trantor already has an imperial library.

For how long?

Now, that statement does bring us
to the heart of the matter.

You said you could prove your theorem

to someone conversant
in ordinal analysis.

Gaal Dornick, please rise.

Approach the dais, if you would.

You're from Synnax, correct?
We should say that.

I am.

You've had your prayer stones removed.

You almost look like one of us.

My understanding of your world
is that to remove the prayer stones

is to break with the Seer Church.

Is that right?

That is church doctrine, yes.

Tell me, are they still killing
scientists and mathematicians?

If you're talking about the Purge, then…

The church's term is "the Cleanse,"
Your Exalteds.

When was it,
according to church doctrine,

that it stopped being heresy
to study math?

It never stopped.

And yet you solved
the Abraxas Conjecture.

Yes.

On a world where they burned
the universities down.

You must have been lonely there.

I can imagine how it must have felt

to be recognized by Dr. Hari Seldon.

To be given a job. To be valued.

What do you want to know?

I want to know
if there is any possible way…

you can be objective about Hari Seldon.

I don't know. Maybe I can't.

Maybe that's why he brought me here.

Last night you were given a chance

to assess the accuracy
of Dr. Seldon's claims.

Did you arrive at a conclusion?

Yes.

And?

Dr. Seldon's calculations…

are correct.

The Empire is dying.

Kill them.

End this.

Hari, the sky.

Something's wrong with the Star Bridge.

Please respect and enjoy the peace.

Expected return to home planet?

Three days.

- Please respect and enjoy the peace.
- Thank you.

This car will commence
its descent down the stalk momentarily.

You may feel a jolt.

Please secure yourself
before commencing descent.

The tether wrapped around
the planet like a garrote.

It cut 50 levels down.

- Emperor...
- Shut up!

There are reports

of Anacreon and Thespin
war cries before the explosion.

Songs of rebellion.

We had no part in this, we...

We will, of course,
be returning your gifts.

86,963,777.

86,963,791.

What are you doing here?

I petitioned the committee.

They're saying a hundred million dead.

The Outer Reaches may be in rebellion.

The attack's changed everything.

Hari said there's
a nonzero chance you'll die,

but nonzero is still a number.

They're gonna kill Hari, Gaal.

You don't have to die with him.

I've already said his math was right.

Say you looked at it again.
Say you were wrong.

You've lost faith.

I'm sorry.

She doesn't need that.

Get up.

Shall I speak first, or will you?

By all means, Dr. Seldon.

Speak.

You hold us responsible.

How could I not?

My science can predict societal actions.
Trends. Not individual ones.

But I'm not surprised it happened.

Why is that?

You're stretched too thin.

That's why the kingdoms
of the Outer Reach struck first.

And who can blame them?

Sensing vulnerability,
soon other players

will begin to apply downward pressure.

An exhortation from one of
the galaxy's major religions is a given.

Or perhaps a homegrown
insurrection here on Trantor.

Star Bridge. Who did this?

I don't know.

Tell me why I shouldn't kill you
and your followers right now.

My followers aren't responsible!

If you do,
you'll be dead within the year.

The prodigy speaks.

So speak.

Your agent Jerril asked me
to check Dr. Seldon's work.

I went a little farther in the equation.

If you kill him, the fall accelerates.

Well, that's a convenient data point
for your side.

Only he can shorten the darkness.

Kill him, you kill hope.

Kill hope…

they kill you.

What are the odds?

The only two people who can save
the galaxy are in this room.

And one of them is wrong.

I agree.

If the fall can be accelerated,
can it not also be slowed?

Yes.

By a few centuries.

Don't keep us in the dark.

End imperial cloning.

Imperial cloning stopped the wars.

Imperial cloning brought peace.

Our genetic dynasty has reigned
for almost four centuries.

Surely you can understand the value

in a younger mind who
shares your intellect.

Well, I see the value in difference,

in the new.

You offer nothing new.

Just a younger grape…

from the same vine,

destined for the same old bottle.

You can't save yourselves…

but you can save your legacy.

Yours or mine, Dr. Seldon?

How long did it take you…

to trigger the Prime Radiant?

I got it on the second try.

You knew they'd offer it to me.

Hari, when I looked at it, I...

I really thought they'd try
and make it seem more of a fair fight.

But they didn't bother, did they?

Did we?

The hook still hurting you?

Xylas used the same phrase you did.
"I was lonely."

They were listening.

And you knew they were listening.

- They're listening now.
- Fine.

What do you want them to hear?

Abraxas was the bait. Not you.

I just moved before they did.

You have more agency here, Gaal,
than you realize.

The Emperor has determined that
your deaths are not the optimal outcome

for the good of the Imperium.

You will be allowed to refine your work
on psychohistory,

to build your Foundation.

But not on Trantor.

Terminus.

It is uninhabited,
sitting in the Periphery,

along the galaxy's Outer Reach.

Anacreon and Thespis are also
in the Periphery.

Yes, the barbarian kingdoms
will be your neighbors.

You will journey via slow ship.

The Empire forbids you access
to jumpdrive technology.

You're exiling us.

On Terminus,
you will not trouble Trantor,

and there will be no disturbance
of the Emperor's peace.

The galaxy will know
that you are fighting the fall.

If psychohistory proves fraudulent,

your Foundation will be allowed
to wither and vanish.

And if it's successful,

you'll co-opt it
and use it to bolster your regime.

Terminus. I've never even heard of it.

There's no reason you would.
It's 50,000 light-years away.

Without a jumpdrive,
the journey there...

- 878 days.
- Approximately.

We'll be fine.

There'll be hardships, no question.

Terminus orbits a red dwarf.

Its seasons are extreme.
Metal and mineral poor.

You know it well.

Exile was always the plan.

And Terminus was always
the optimal location.

Out in the Periphery.

Imperial support without imperial eyes.
It's perfect.

How many others knew?

Only Raych.

What you said to the Emperor…

How much farther into my math
did you look?

What did you actually see?

- I couldn't quite figure it.
- So, you lied?

I hypothesized.

On Synnax, no one wanted to hear
that our seas were rising.

I thought if I could make people listen,
that I could save them.

Change is frightening,
especially to those in power.

And I could feel the Empire's fear.

When I looked into the Prime Radiant,
I could see the darkness.

It took my breath away at first.
It was crushing.

But then I looked deeper,

and I could see

this tiny sliver of light
at the very end of it all.

And I realized
it's not the fall they're afraid of.

It's the chance that
your plan will actually succeed.

It takes more power to build
than to burn.

And I want to build, Hari.

You'll get your chance.

This isn't the
Foundation's first crisis,

and it won't be our last.

Something tells me you already know
what the next crisis will be.

The Emperor's peace will be maintained.

From Synnax to Trantor. Now Terminus.

You came here hoping to save your world.

I'm asking you to dream bigger.

Why stop at one world?
Why not save the galaxy?

Why not indeed.

Hari had planned for it all,

things only he saw over the horizon.

Psychohistory could
forecast the behavior

of entire populations
with stunning accuracy.

But, when it came to individuals,
things got murkier.

No one could approach the Vault.

No one but an outlier
like Salvor Hardin.

And I always wondered…

when Hari was formulating his plan,

did he realize the galaxy's fate
would rest on what she found inside?

I think he did.

And I think
that's what he feared the most.

Synced & corrected by -robtor-
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