A looming figure covered in robes that actually fit him and wreaths of ghostly essence approached, in his hand a sword with rectangular slices removed from it that overflowed with pale green flames. The demonic warrior from Spirit Intersection, Ragnabble, raised his terrible brand. “Halt all construction!” He walked toward the construction site, and beneath his feet the grass and left black prints in the form of no human foot. But only for a few steps at a time, since it was just a decal. His voice moaned like the dead who knew regret and nothing more. “An injunction has been issued!”
“I don't know what that means, but I'd better cease performing a certain action for the time being!” The officers currently engaged in construction exclaimed that and gathered around, unsure of the situation but hoping it had something to do with an announcement that the Commandment of Hero: Ersatz Struggle roster would be big enough to include the entire cast after all.
“What seems to be the trouble, um . . . uh . . .” Cadmos glanced around, then started rotating his hand as if he was propelling a rubber duck through the bath by making tiny waves, and followed that up by jerking his head toward the visitor and mouthing something that may have been something along the lines of, “Say there fellows, by any chance might you be able to defuse a potentially embarrassing situation by supplying me with the name of this distinguished gentleman who does us the honor of paying a call to our home?” Years later, historians interviewed the officers present at that momentous encounter, all of whom insisted that as funny as it would have been to leave Cadmos hanging despite knowing the name, they honestly had no idea who that guy was.
Ragnabble held out a sheaf of papers. “I have here an emergency order issued by the assembly to cease construction on this edifice. If you think it applies to you, it probably does.” Years later, those same historians speculated Ragnabble had the same level of knowledge of Commandment of Hero's characters as they had of Spirit Intersection's.
“I didn't issue anything today,” one of the bystanders objected.
“Quircy, there's more to the assembly than just you,” Gaelvry Beruvo reminded her.
“No, I don't think there is.”
Gaelvry's narrowed eyes warned of a possible dressing-down, but Luau Lua backed up the claim. “We voted for Quircy Rau to be our leader way back when. Legally, all this assembly stuff is nothing but an advisory council to make her job easier. Don't get me wrong, that's a crucial function, but a limited one.”
“Not at all,” Solemn Declaration responded. “We held the vote which conferred authority on Quircy Rau in the context of choosing a war leader, a dictator if you will, to lead the coalition of Commandment of Hero's and Holy Legend Army's expeditionary forces. Her mandate ended along with the existence of that polity when we merged our empire with those led by Convergence/Divergence and Furious Galaxy.”
“I don't believe in an implicit resignation of power.”
Rylweadh of Mercy followed that conversation and took notes of the important points, but most of the onlookers paid more attention to Cadmos as he flipped through the paperwork provided by Ragnabble. “. . . endangers the habitat of the Striped Sectiger . . .” He lowered the bundle and turned in place to take in the vast, flat, unpopulated green waste where never did a bird fly overhead and neither did herds of horses or centaurs roam. “Hey, is that Evening? How's it going?” Evening Best waved as he ran past. Not as part of a herd, though. “I don't see any Striped Sectigers in the vicinity.”
“That proves how low their numbers have dwindled,” Ragnabble told him.
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“I'm also not sure Striped Sectigers exist. No, I'm convinced they don't.”
“It's worse than we thought! You drove them to extinction before they had a chance. That's going to be a fine for sure. We can put a lien on your stadium and collect from the building materials. I'll take care of that right now if you don't mind.”
“I don't . . .”
“Good.” Ragnabble approached the nascent Cadmos Dome and swung his baneful sword, severing planks and toppling one block from the next.
“Drat!” Eten snapped his fingers. “We should have put up the 'Please Don't Destroy the Cadmos Dome' sign up long before now. Well, lesson learned.”
Ragnabble finished wrecking the place and stuffed as many of the components in his inventory as he could. The latter part of the process might have taken an hour for an officer, but mere seconds for him, seeing as Spirit Intersection was a MOBA. “I have confiscated six of these items and will notify you later how the balance of your fine stands.”
“I guess that's acceptable,” Cadmos replied.
“Very acceptable indeed. Ahem. I meant to say, oh, what's going on here?” Wruden Calx showed up at the construction site for the first time. “Run into some red tape? What a shame.”
“Hi, Wruden. Yeah, we're just dealing with this legal obstruction you obviously devised for us. I admit that I'm not quite sure what your problem with our stadium is.”
“Is this true, Wruden Calx?” Uryeong demanded to know, hands on her hips and umbrage in her voice. “Because if it is, you should have told us beforehand so we could hire an architect of our own to design the Marileanna Dome! I envision it as watery-themed because she's a priestess of Polsom and Haybra. Painted blue, scalloped along the top. A giant octopus hugging the whole thing doesn't really make sense, but neither does turning Commandment of Hero into a fighting game. Hm. We could blow up an octopus balloon and tie it to the roof of our clubhouse. That sounds fun, but I'm still mad!”
“There's no need for any kind of stadium, Miss Uryeong. The entire enterprise is a boondoggle.” Wruden twirled his pick and pointed it in the direction of the plaza. “If you want to show off the results of your training, why not do it in the open, where the public is able to view it without planning a day trip or dealing with scalpers? Then, when the audience builds up a good hunger and thirst from watching all that combat, an assortment of respectable, fee-paying franchises from C/D can take care of their needs.”
An outbreak of eye-winkery and rib-jabbery occurred among the officers who believed they then perceived the depths of Wruden Calx's intentions by means of their own cunning, much like the detectives who find the victim's dying clue and never consider the killer may have fabricated that evidence for his own benefit till the amateur solves the case.
Uryeong, however, remained nonplussed. “But my scalloping . . .”
“They have scallops at the Bounty Factory chain at a mouth-watering price. Best of all, they won't take measurements of your personal medical data unless you specifically request it and fill out the form.”
“Forms are important. Now I must go deal with a criminal ring selling cameras without proper paperwork in another game,” Ragnabble declared before he turned and created a sulphury track toward the shuttle station on the western plaza road.
“There goes a truly destructive guy.” Ulrik saluted with his scimitar, Burmin Trivvis with his halberd, and every Inferno, Reaper, and Inferno Reaper with something or other. “Now that he's gone, we can hunt down all the Striped Sectigers to solve the problem.”
“As I said before, I don't think those exist.”
“That's easily solved,” King Ostros assured Cadmos. He pulled a paint can and brush out of the wreckage and waggled them suggestively, the suggestion being that the situation did not awe him with its gravity.
“We can remember that idea in case any Sectigers show up outside of the story, Suppression, or Vigilant Patrol, Ostros. Right now, we need to come up with a new plan with all the stadium parts we picked up.”
Just as Cadmos implied, most of the Cadmos Dome had already been stored safely in the pockets of over a dozen officers. “Let's put this thing together in Magical Menagerie,” Newlywed Quircy suggested. “Next to a duck pond for that waterside theme. We have twelve of them, so take your pick!”
“We're all agreed, then? Splendid.” Aerywe Beruvo glided toward the station, followed by the crowd. Most of it. Marileanna's group paused in the departing.
“Wruden Calx! Come with! We're going to build a stadium!” Smidgen urged.
“Don't think you are. No, I'd bet against it if I had the option, and I'm not a betting man.”
“OK! Kindo is though!”
“Ah, an opportunity. Thanks for the tip.” Wruden dashed after the crowd, yelling for Kindo to slow down.