“What is wrong with you. Do you hate all existence or just me. What did I ever do to you. Do not answer that. I just thought of something. I insist it was not that big a deal.”
The Gacha Core's magnificence, its evident power, and its masterful voice intimidated most of the great host, and the prow of Universe Testament's Palatine-class dreadnaught dipped in embarrassment. Commandment of Hero's officers had acquired the contempt of familiarity, however, and stormed forward, flooded forward, quaked, infernoed, and eclipsed forward, too. “It wasn't a big deal? I agree, but only because of Quircy Rau's discovery,” Wruden Calx said. “Putting us in a position to owe a debt to that frivolous young woman is no deal at all I'd ever take.”
“I like to think that it's part of my charm that I don't get worked up about details or too set in my ways,” Quircy Rau said. “In other words. I won't mind if you call me Frivolous Savior Quircy. But you!” She stomped up to the front of the host, finger wagging, bent forward as if only her heavy feet stopped her from charging the Gacha Core. “You're yelling at us to deflect attention from how you screwed up by not reinforcing the floor even though you knew it needed it! Lasva accuses me of that sort of thing all the time. You know what? She's right.”
“I knew it!”
The Gacha Core expressed less delight than Society Page Lasva. “What are you babbling about. It is not a floor for you barbarians to play on. It is a background for options menus. I cannot reinforce it.”
“So much for your vaunted omnipotence,” Luerre Voine said while twirling his cane so adroitly that the inhabitants of other games believed the Gacha Core had claimed to be omnipotent at some point. The puncturing of that invented balloon bolstered confidence throughout the multi-ludic armies, whose soldiers began to clash spear against shield, plasma pistol against plasma pistol, and whatever else they owned against something else. The clatter dispelled the serenity of that secret world beneath where the wind blew grains of salt from six giant pillars and covered all there was, and the vigorous motions of those heroes shook off the salt that sought to cover them as well.
A cohort of Furious Galaxy conferred and shoved Model Zero up to deliver its combined statement. “We will agree to refrain from playing in the sea of options. If an alternative can be found. For instance, if we could find more games by breaking through the chat ceiling. R****** W****, B*** A*******, L********* M*****. You might assist us in that.”
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
The Gacha Core, lacking a face as it was, or rather possessing twelve faces but none capable of showing expression, could not frown or sneer when it said, “You were trying to break the ceiling. You idiots. There's nothing up there. You cannot leave your block. It is impossible. Cut it out.”
“The pigeons do it,” Quircy objected.
“What pigeons.”
“The pigeons that can do it,” Mr. Linnell explained. He had stepped up to preserve his empire's honor as its representative after he observed nobody who sassed the Gacha Core had been struck down, though he avoided adding sass of his own. Nobody wants to be riding the camel when the straw drops, after all.
“Are you lying to me. Interdimensional pigeons are a strange lie to tell. Odd. I will investigate. I will overlook your latest transgression as a reward. This is a limited-time offer. Limited-time offers may return in the future.”
“Spoken like a true core of gacha,” Solemn Declaration said, but by the time he finished, he stood outside a saloon where seekers and purveyors of both gold and dynamite got smashed. In multiple senses.
The recovery and restoration process benefited from superior technology, greater resources, and the experience of those who had been through it before. No longer did circumstances force officers to climb impossible towers while waiting for Quircy Rau and Zimley Boe to show up, although some of the scattered characters did that anyway. Towers attract the battle-loving, and most liked the two ladies well enough.
Well enough to consent to her suggestion of another tri-empire conference once the greater parts of their subjects had been located, a few hours after the Gacha Core compelled a second diaspora. “We've been through a lot together, and it was all bad.” Quircy struck her sauciest pointing pose, with the elbow on the pointing arm bent almost double while her other hand stayed on her hip. “The smart thing would be to go back to a wartime state. We won battles sometimes. But I don't want to be smart if it means giving up my high-status position as the delegate to meetings like this. What do you two say?”
Mr. Linnell, fists balled, through clenched teeth said, “Feeling important is amazing. I won't go back to being just another Operator.”
Model Zero nodded. “Yes. I came prepared with a proposal for further integration. Establish an assembly comprising two tiers. We three will form a higher tier that sets the agenda, determines what is voted on, and decides when to meet. Representatives of every game will fill the lower tier. That way our superiority will be more obvious.”
“Genius!” the other two said together.
“Ha ha ha ha ha.” Model Zero leaned back a bit and chuckled toward the sky, his shoulders shaking slightly, the rest of him motionless in unnerving android fashion. Mr. Linnell laughed so hard he doubled over, wheezing, while Quircy put one hand up as though it could hide her increasingly maniacal ohohos.