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MMS 7. Finally We Can Stop Pretending RPGs Are Good

MMS 7. Finally We Can Stop Pretending RPGs Are Good

The reveal that shocked the world. Of Commandment of Hero. Specifically. The screen held on Cadmos in a bolder pose than Freegate had ever seen him strike along with a promise of a release that year. Every officer sat in shock, and the chagrin of disappointed bridal candidates was overcome by rising excitement till they thought a little bit more about it. 'But . . . but if they won't pick us for alts, they won't include us in a fighting game, will they?” Adigail Zem clutched her dog no matter how hard it struggled to escape. Darlotte Glofal, Tinni Ilx, Local Fisher, and others looked to implement that crime scene idea they conceived earlier. Aerywe Beruvo leapt on Rylweadh of Mercy and tried to calm her down while pinning her arms back, and during that her royal sister activated the cages hanging above the malcontents.

“That's why the ejector seat is a bad choice,” Gaelvry Bride explained to her Rare work crew. “Try getting them to sit still for it. The losses would be tremendous.”

With the riot quelled even as it began, a more wondering, appreciative sort of excitement had room to bloom. “Wow!” eminent fighting game enthusiast Dennet exclaimed. “Woooow!”

“Ooooohhhh, wow,” agreed less noted but no less fervent fighting game enthusiast and generally fancy-looking fellow Dosellian Urapta. Tougher-looking fighting game enthusiast Coremel started pumping his fist as if he had just won a tournament that had a prize pool sufficiently extravagant to pay for his bus fare home.

But the fighting game fans made for a backyard pool compared to the indoor water-based amusement complex of enthusiasts for possibly appearing in another game, who themselves compared unfavorably to the ever-flooding Nile of speculation lovers. Those waited only for the lights to come back on before they started in on who would make the cut, of whether their spinoff would be better than Slay Every Dragon's, and of either rejoicing in or complaining about the June event reveals. The disunited babble of the crowd could not be understood by mortal ears but carried significant risk of replicating the exact invocation to make some unthinkable eldritch monstrosity manifest. Plus, they forgot about the cake.

Cadmos stood up to prevent an excess of exuberance. “Hey everybody. There's a lot to talk about, isn't there? But before we get into what's coming up, let's not forget to congratulate our friends right now. Quircy, Manyana, Leslie. Stand up, and let's hear it for our new brides!” They did so, and the officers applauded as they hoped others would when they were top of the heap for an hour. Quircy Rau looked around with as smug an expression as ever a launch-day player has when newbies start playing the game and ask which character they have is good, Manyana tried to adopt a firm expression instead of giving the impression that her entire face was melting into rivers of tears (unsuccessfully of course), and Leslie Harthorpe just looked confused as far as anyone could tell. It was hard to see what was going on that high up. Maybe with a ladder.

“I'm sure we're all looking forward to those dazzling new alts, not to mention the cake that has their figurines being placed on it as I speak. Now then, I think it would be good to take a moment to get all the prediction talk out of our systems. You can brag about getting it right or be disappointed about getting it wrong, but let's keep it within reason. It's easy to get carried away and hurt people.”

“That's precisely what I mean to do!” Adigail Zem yelled from her cage as she rattled the unyielding door. “Zozo! Gnaw our way out!” Her terrier latched its maw on the bars, for all the good it did.

Jonathan Brightwater, less personally interested, found it easy to meet Cadmos's expectations, or rather vain hopes. “What a wipeout. Hm. I suppose I've gotten addicted to long shots. The sure picks sometimes are sure. But besides that, I need to gather more data. Manyana must be more popular than I thought.”

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Skaya perused some bookmarks on her phone. “She's been coming in the bottom half on every poll I've ever seen and barely gets fanart.”

“Huh. What about sales?”

While the methodical types went over old spotlight revenue estimates, the impulse-followers followed their impulses and yelled their cries that were free of purpose or logic. “Bride Minsie!”

“Bride Theena!”

“Bride Meeeeeeeee!”

During all that, Night Shift Lynissia left her seat, hopped over to Kindo, and held out a stamped card. “Must be hard to get around in that panda getup,” he commiserated. “Hard to hand people things, too. I'm not sure how you're doing it. Well, lemme see here. Yep, it's all stamped and official. You might be the only one to get all three right. Congratulations! Here's your voucher from a free meal for one, any size any time, from cooperating vendors in Chaos Cuisine. This prediction contest was sponsored by Chaos Cuisine, the neo culinary fantasy dramatic game. Hope you win again next time!”

Lynissia hopped back to her seat, gazing at her voucher with the same serious expression as always but somehow emitting a contentment field capable of calming the most obstreperous spirits. Skaya, Jonathan Brightwater, General Anstralia, and a few others among the more zealous guessers hurried over to consult the new top expert about the upcoming groom alts before Cadmos called for silence again, and then again. The third time did it.

“We can continue with that when content creators start to address the results. Right now I'd like to say some words about Commandment of Hero: Ersatz Struggle. Obviously it's an unbelievable privilege for me to be included. The only thing that makes me happier is knowing that many of you will join me there. Beyond that, I'm looking forward to the respectful way everyone not included will behave. Right, Gradis?”

“Sure,” the big Santa-looking Santa alt affirmed. “Wait, was that a dig?”

“Only if you want it to be. I think that's about all I have to say . . .” The wild cheers blocked out the rest of Cadmos's speech, which prevented him from going back on his word. Officers leapt out of their chairs and, after grabbing some cake, huddled around Lynissia to get an early start on predictions both groom-related and spinoff-esque, or else around Dosellian Urapta, Dennet, and Coremel, who seemed to know something about something when it came to action games focused on confrontations between two characters, each with a large suite of attack and movement options.

“80+% chance Cadmos ends up being a shoto,” Dennet said. The listeners had no idea what that meant, but the way he said it gave them the impression it was the sort of flagitious insult they liked to hear.

The only officers who sat out one or the other of those discussions did so not out of apathy or an unwillingness to mix with the common crowd. It was because they were in cages. Gaelvry Bride let out a responsibility-accepting “Oops!” and went about freeing them. “There's no retraction mechanism, so just hold on,” she told her prisoners as she knelt, grabbed, and heaved at Darlotte Glofal's personal containment unit. Cadmos took the other side, and together they made the impossible happen. A moral for us all. A bunch of Rares heaved too at Gaelvry's orders, but cages made for URs laughed at their Attack stats.

By the time Cadmos and Gaelvry freed all the rowdies, Skaya was tapping a pointer against a chart she had fetched from under her bunk in the Barracks and Dennet was struggling to explain frames to an inquisitive but inexperienced audience (“They're like wafers of time”). The inspiring promotional image of Cadmos faded from the monitor, which shut off automatically with the end of the stream, as always. Or did it? No, it did not.

The officers gasped all at once. That drew in enough air to cause a vacuum, pulling some of the teensier officers out of the hall such as Tramda Olex, Serdon Miloz, and Rhizi Apron. The rest stood still and watched, perhaps after digging in their heels or kneeling a bit, as an enigmatic message appeared on the monitor.

“Free UR Eclipse Champion 'CADMOS.' Report to the data renewal facility for first data capture session. Attendance is mandatory. Follow signs if lost.”

“What could it mean?” asked Boxer Andit. He may even have meant it. Nobody answered him. They had all left already.