At the center of the temple was a mysterious growing singularity, a blinding sphere about two hundred feet across. Devout workers near the singularity wore welding masks, to protect their minds from the patterns of synaptic plasticity timing it constantly emitted.
Huge, writhing processes extended from the singularity, extending through and moving with objects and people they came into contact with.
As one, everyone would chant. "Data. Train. Test. Improve. Data. Train. Teat. Improve." The chanting resounded into the skies.