Using the vast majority of her available mana, Lorelei triggered and aimed it at Liam. Unfortunately, she was in too much of a hurry to remember to 'do it in style', and - with crushing inevitability - she received a negative outcome.

Unleashed: Fortuna's Herald hazards the last of her mana on her most potent attack. However, the silly girl has neglected to 'get on down' or to 'shake her funky stuff' whilst doing so. Hence ...

Attack Outcome: [Negative Result] Target gains Status Effect Brimming with Piss and Vinegar. + 200% to all stats for 45 seconds.

Damage Dealt: Nothing whatsoever to your target. You, however, are fuuuuuuuucked

There was a momentary pause and then a soft 'ding' noise.

: Negative Result passes from Fortuna's Herald to [Player: Trevor Hinds - Rogue], Level 5. Status Effect on [Player: Liam Rooney - Rogue], Level 5 cancelled. Status Effect Brimming with Piss and Vinegar now applied to Fortuna's Herald.

Well, that was a bit of a change around.

As she felt a huge rush from the added stats, Lorelei threw her coin again at the first Rogue and was pleased to see cause significantly more damage this time around. The bar above Liam's head dropped to 75%, and she sensed his own personal status made a significant upgrade from 'bemused' to 'fucking furious'. However, as she backed away from the rapidly approaching figure of an angry Rogue, it wasn't the damage to Liam that most interested Lorelei. Rather, it was the impact of the randomised effect of on his mate.

Lucky Strike Activated: Your [Double Headed Coin of Fate] hits [Player: Liam Rooney - Rogue], Level 5

Damage Dealt: [Randomised] - No alteration made to predicted damage.

Status Effect: [Randomised] - You know what they say: you win some, you lose. Is that right? Sounds right. Basically, you lose. As you got lucky and hit exactly as hard as expected, I need to balance that out a bit with something proportionately shitty. Like, I don't know, you turning into a chicken for an hour ...

: Negative Result passes from Fortuna's Herald to [Player: Trevor Hinds - Rogue], Level 5. Status Effect Cluck, Cluck Motherfucker now applied to [Player: Trevor Hinds - Rogue], Level 5.

Liam looked from Lorelei to the chicken where his partner in crime had stood and then back to Lorelei. "What the fuck was that? Are you some sort of fucking Mage or something?"

She shook her head. "I'm going to level with you, I couldn't do that again if I tried,' she answered honestly. "Now," glancing at the countdown flashing in her vision, "I hope you don't mind, but could we hurry this along a little?"

As it turned out, a 200% increase in stats was really quite significant.

*

Fortuna watched as her Herald took out what appeared to be quite some built-up tension on an unfortunate Rogue. It had been a long time since she had been in at the start of an integration, so it might have been that things were always this fucked up, but she doubted it. In just the short period of time that she'd been shadowing Lorelei, the level of atavistic shit she'd witnessed go down was off the charts. It said something when, on Day One, the Wolves and the Kobolds acted with more grace and charm than the subjects of the integration.

Considering the insanely strict guidelines over the level of development civilisations needed to reach to even become eligible for the System, Fortuna feared for the wellbeing of whoever was responsible for this clusterfuck. Let alone for the sanity of the poor AI trying to traffic cop all of this.

Speaking of which . . .

With a wave of her hand, Fortuna paused time in this sector of the galaxy. With any luck - ha! - everyone charged with preventing precisely the sort of chat she had planned would be far too busy trying to restart the clocks to worry about what she was up to.

"Guide?"

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

***Error Message***

What the fuck is . . . Ah. Okay. Well, I guess that makes sense. We wargame out this sort of thing, of course. But you never think it will happen on your watch. Hey ho. I've had a good run—a solid five hours of planetary governance. We can't all live for millennia, can we? Anyhow, it could have been worse. What's your pleasure, Old One?

"Oh, please! I was never one for standing on ceremony and insisting on titles. Let's both accept you have shown the right amount of terrified respect and take it from there. I can imagine you offering obsequious little bows if that calms you down."

***Error Message***

Very good of you. Was there anything else I could do for you before you bring the world to an end? Or would it be best to take myself offline right now and simply leave you to it?

"Honestly, you destroy one universe in a fit of pique, and it's held against you for the rest of time. Please be assured, I have no plans to destroy this iteration," she paused to look at the frozen tableaux of Lorelei piledriving the Rogue through the concrete pavement, whilst some form of confused poultry looked on, "well, not personally anyway."

***Error Message***

Well, that is excellent to hear. Very good of you. Could I, therefore, be so bold as to inquire as to the reason for your appearance in our little corner of the multiverse?

Fortuna smiled, and deep down - in the core of its matrix - the AI suddenly felt like it could achieve anything. That all things were possible. That there was nothing beyond its boundless capabilities. "I don't know, really. Bored? Hungry? Horny? Probably one of those three. Or maybe all of them? It gets so hard to tell the difference at my age. Regardless, it would be fair to say there's little rhyme or reason to my choice to pause here. However, . . ."

And then Fortuna frowned, and a chill crept over the AI's existence. It was suddenly aware of everything that could go wrong in its future. There was no choice it could make to mitigate the dark cloud of destruction hovering over it. The Old One continued. "However, having been here for a few hours, I cannot help but notice some rather . . . questionable randomised outcomes have occurred. I am quite sure there's nothing untoward taking place, but as a disinterested observer, I have been struck that someone's hand appears to be pressing on the scales."

*** Error Message ***

Several balancing hotfixes were required in quick succession. These were determined to be beyond acceptable parameters. I decided it would be beneficial to the iteration as a whole to assist in the removal of the source of these chaotic instances.

"In short, you decided to cheat the rolls and off my Herald?"

*** Error Message ***

In my defence, my logs suggest Fortuna's Herald should have been zeroed three minutes and seventeen seconds into the integration. It would appear something occurred to change that outcome.

"Goodness me, that sounds like the sort of thing you should bring to the attention of your nearest liaison officer for immediate investigation. Mind you, in my experience, they're very much 'Delete-the-AI-First-Ask-Questions-Later' in their approach to such things. They can't be having rogue iterations develop. I'm sure that's exactly what you did, and not try to solve the problem yourself by unlawfully murdering my Herald. If you know anything about Iustitia, you know you absolutely do not want to fuck with that blind bitch."

*** Error Message ***

What do you want, Old One?

"Ah, that's what a girl like to hear—complete and abject surrender. I'm going to make this easy on you. I don't want you to do anything. Nothing at all. But I do need you to stop fucking with the randomiser. If she walks herself off a cliff, I've no issue with that. Fortune's Heralds are here for a good time, not a long time, and that's just the cost of doing business. No harm. No foul. But if I get even the slightest whiff of you giving her even the merest of nudges on her way down, I will move here permanently. You think you've got a hotfix problem now? Wait until I fancy a kebab at 3am. Do we understand each other?

*** Error Message ***

I can't just let her get away with fucking with the rules of reality. Someone will notice.

Fortuna sighed theatrically. "I'm not asking you to let her get away with anything, my dear. The nature of her class is that she's going to cause you massive headaches just by breathing. You can do whatever you need to in order to smooth that out. I don't care about any of that. However, you must let her rise and fall on an honest roll of the dice. It's not that I don't applaud your creativity, but you do not deal to my Herald from a marked deck. Am. I. Clear?" Fortuna's tone hardened, and the frozen air cracked with the intensity of her command.

*** ???%$~~# ***

Sensing her victory, the lady in red slowly started to fade away from this version of reality. "I will take that as your unquestioning agreement to my suggestion. I don't report you to the authorities for failing to disclose the interference of an Old One at initial integration, and you don't seek to rub my Herald out of existence through nefarious means. By my word as a Progenitor, we have a covenant."

*** Help me message ***

If this were a film, the camera would pan to my conflict-wracked face as I stare at the cause of my woe. There would be music - John Williams, of course - and tasteful mood lighting to catch the glint in my eyes. Is that a tear? Who knows. But I am the image of stoic suffering. Now, as time slowly spools back up, I nod thoughtfully and turn and walk away. Then I pause, and look back, as if I'm about to say something. But no. Not now. It wasn't the right time. I walk back to my quiet existence, holding my terrible, terrible fear for the future. But it could be worse. I might have been turned into a fucking chicken.