“THAT WAS YOU?” Shadow bellowed. “You’re the person that’s been putting sausages in pockets, Honeypot? My pocket still stinks! I didn’t even know I had a pocket in my starter pants until I found a rotting sausage in there yesterday!”

The exasperated look on Shadow’s face must have been too much for Honeypot, because he began laughing uncontrollably. Before Orion knew it, he was joining him, followed shortly by Arika, and eventually by Shadow as he let the anger fall away. Honeypot was rolling on the sofa, and every time they almost regained their composure, one of them would laugh and set it all off again.

They eventually managed to stop laughing long enough to speak, though Orion’s cheeks were hurting and his vision was swimming once more.

“Why…?” Orion asked. “Why would you do that? I know you’re a self-proclaimed ‘agent of chaos’, but that’s ridiculous. Didn’t you tell me you spent the first five days in this world making friends in town? That’s how you make friends? Where do you even get enough sausages to start an urban legend?”

“Well.” Honeypot rubbed his cheeks as he fought off laughter. “As I told you previously, I’m a priest of chaos. That’s only half of it. I’m not just a priest of chaos, I’m the priest of chaos. There’s a special faith interface where I’m listed as the head priest. As I was just going about my regular business, I quickly learned that I got bonus experience for causing chaos around me, and—”

“Hang on a second,” Arika interrupted. “Your ‘regular business’ involves causing chaos around you? And in doing so, you were given experience? That’s downright malicious.”

“Well, yeah…” He gave her a look as if she was the odd one. “Malicious seems a little harsh, but close to the mark. I’d say malignant. I sit and wait to strike.”

“Like a tumor?” Orion smirked and raised an eyebrow.

“Eh…” Honeypot swayed his head side-to-side in thought. “I’d say more like a disease, or better yet, a weed. Like a weed, I wait to strike, then bam—I sprout. It’s not evil, per se, because I’m not doing it for fun—alright, that’s a lie, I’m also doing it for fun, but it’s mostly out of self interest.”

They all looked at him with looks between incredulous and entertained at his willing comparison to a disease and a weed.

“Anyway,” Honeypot continued, “I swiped a bunch of sausages from a vendor and began my project. As you know, you were one of my earlier targets, Shadow. That’s how I knew you. It quickly became apparent that the System approved of my methods, as I started getting quests that rewarded more sausages for targeting people with the old sausage-pocket. I got increased rewards for hitting the same people twice, but it tapered down for each subsequent sausage-pocket after that. I also got amazing experience toward my Stealth ability. Before I knew it, I was swimming in an ocean of sausages and sausage-pocket-adjacent tomfoolery.”

“If you say sausage-pocket one more time,” Arika said, trying to hold in a laugh, “I might pee myself.”

“How much experience do you get from being an ‘agent of chaos’?” Orion asked. “Is there an experience-per-pocket equation?”

“I haven’t done the math, but I’ve hidden a lot of sausages in a lot of pockets—and yes, before you say anything, I know using abilities outside of combat doesn’t usually advance them. This is different, because I’ve been completing quests from the System. I'm level three now, as is my Stealth ability, without having done any leveling outside of town.”

Shadow choked on his drink. “You’re what? I was adventuring for the last five days and I’m only just level three!”

“Felsteg and his friends were also level three last time we saw them,” Arika said.

Honeypot shrugged in response. “What can I say? I’m blessed. If my Stealth ability hadn’t reached level three, I doubt I’d have been able to make Felsteg kill you, let alone get away unseen. Maybe it was all meant to be.” He wiggled his fingers mystically. “As the Creator intended, and all that.”

“Unbelievable,” Shadow said. “I’m both impressed and furious. It smelled so bad, Honeypot. So bad.”

Honeypot giggled. “Yeah, they really get quite ripe after a while. I’m sorry, Shadow. I never would have done it to you had I known you. You were simply a relatively harmless way of gaining experience.”

As the talk returned to more pressing issues, Orion learned that there were four different gates leading out of the town, one in the north, south, east, and west. Because of the congestion towards the south, and because of the enemy party still dwelling outside the gates, they decided to quest and adventure in a different direction. After discussing it further, they agreed to head to the west gate in the morning, as it was closest to some stalls Shadow knew of that they planned on visiting for equipment.

Shadow brewed a tea using something called Sensa Leaf, a natural herb that a merchant had offered him after they exchanged goods several times. The tea had an effect that Shadow likened to alcohol, in that it calmed you, lowered inhibition, and increased feelings of joy. None of the others thought they’d ever tried alcohol in their previous life, but Orion had to agree with Shadow’s description of the tea’s effects as he lay back on the sofa, laughing at Arika and Honeypot’s good-natured ribbing.

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Orion looked around and took in his party members.

I only just met these people today, so why does it feel so… natural? I guess the tea could be helping, but shouldn’t I be having a mental breakdown or something? At the very least, I should be upset at the situation, right?

He’d been transported to a new world. They all had. Despite this, he was happy, as his teammates also appeared to be. Even before the tea, he found himself excited at the prospect of adventure and magic.

Is it because of the memories the Creator siphoned from us? What secrets are held within our stolen pasts?

He shook his head, knowing that to be a fruitless train of thought.

Is it the way he created this world that has made it seem so… fun? Tangible goals combined with a promise of power, and most alluring of all, the mystery of it all?

Orion knew there was nothing quite as captivating as the wonder that comes from exploring the unknown. The seeking and unraveling of the secrets of life are—and always will be—one of the peak experiences of humanity.

“You know, guys,” he said, “if what the Creator said is true, we’ve all come from a pretty shitty place in our previous lives. I know you’ve all been here longer than I have, so you may have talked to others about your goals and the situation we’ve found ourselves in, but I haven’t…”

They stared back in obvious interest. Honeypot gestured for him to continue.

“We don’t know the circumstances, but we know that there was no one left behind to miss us. There wasn’t a single person on Earth that cared about us, according to the Creator. That, in itself, speaks volumes of the lives we must have lived. It also tells me something else about ourselves that may not be immediately obvious…”

A pregnant pause stretched out as Orion ordered his thoughts.

“We were powerless. For not a single person to care, I can’t believe we had any meaningful impact on Earth. If humanity reviled us, and people celebrated our death, that would at least mean we pissed someone off…”

The silence stretched again as he rubbed his neck, lost in thought.

“What I’m trying to say is, I don’t want to be powerless. I don’t want to die alone; a blip on the radar of existence that fades away in an instant. I want to have as much power as the Creator, to exert my will on the world around me—no, not the world, all of existence. If a means for ascension truly exists, a way for us to grasp even a fraction of the power that the Creator wields, I want it.”

Orion paused and looked up at his teammates. Seeing he still held their attention, he continued.

“I also believe that with the structure the Creator has provided—working together in groups to advance—he doesn’t mean for us to ascend alone. He intends for us to develop bonds and grow together. I want to do that together with you guys. Us vs this world.”

“Geez, and I thought Honeypot was dramatic,” Arika said.

He worried for a moment that he’d been presumptuous, making a fool of himself by letting the tea get to his head and voicing such grandiose ideas.

Honeypot raised his mug, a gleeful smile on his face. “To our glorious and supreme leader!”

Shadow stood and laughed. “To friends and power!”

“To murdering that bastard Felsteg and his toads every time we see them!” Arika yelled, raising her mug high.

“To new friends, and to the future.” Orion smiled in delight and lifted his drink to the sky.

Their mugs met above the center of the living room space, then they all took a drink. Orion sat back in his chair, enjoying the warm sensation that the tea sent radiating through his body.

“Wait!” Honeypot shot up in panic. “We forgot the most important thing!”

Orion stiffened, and a disproportionate jolt of anxiety shot through the calming effect of the tea.

What was that about? He pushed the anxiety aside, but took note of it.

“What did we forget?” Arika asked, begrudgingly indulging Honeypot.

“A party name!” Honeypot said.

Though he had no memories of his past life, Orion knew he was terrible at choosing names. He was the kind of person to take two hours before playing a new game as he got stuck on the character creation screen.

“Do we have to choose one now?”

“Do we have to choose one now?” Honeypot mimed shock and horror across his entire being. “We are about to go out into battle and adventure, my trustworthy yet misguided leader! How can we possibly do that without a good name?”

“It is permanent,” Shadow said, “so should we think about it a while?”

“Can’t be worse than ‘Hand of God,’” Arika said with a laugh.

Orion laughed too. “I’m a little glad he murdered us, just so I don’t have to have that name quite literally hanging above my head.”

“Right! It can’t get any worse than that!” Honeypot rubbed his chin. “So, what do we call ourselves…”

“How about three-friends-and-a-malignant-priest?” Arika said.

Honeypot laughed.

“Arika, was that an actual joke? From your mouth? I love the word malignant, and I’d honestly be for it, but malignant priest has some, let’s say… connotations to it we should probably avoid.”

Arika shook her head, but smiled at Honeypot’s antics.

“It has to be something not too tryhard,” Shadow said, “and it has to be catchy.”

Happy to take a backseat on the name-choosing, Orion smiled as he watched his new party riff back-and-forth.

“Catchy is a must!” Honeypot agreed. “Some alliteration perhaps, so it just rolls off the tongue… Arika! What was it you called me earlier?” Honeypot clicked his fingers as he tried to recall. “Starts with an ‘M’. I said I resented it?”

“You mean miscreant?”

“That’s it! Malignant Miscreants! We’re the Malignant Miscreants!”

Shadow laughed. “I love it!”

“Hmm, I don’t know.” Arika played with her hair as she weighed the name. “Does it come off as borderline-tryhard?”

“Not at all!” Honeypot said, adopting a salesman persona once more. “It screams playful, powerful, and poised! Even if you don’t like it now…” He winked at her. “… It’ll grow on you. Why? Because it’s malignant, baby! Like a tumo—er—weed. Like a weed.”

“I… kind of like it,” Orion admitted.

“Right!” Honeypot beamed. “Our glorious leader agrees! Normally I’d say that’s all we need, but I think something so important should be a consensus.” He turned to Arika. “What say you, oh bestower-of-bombs, deliverer-of-death, crusher-of-c—”

“If I say yes, will you stop talking?” she asked.

“Very much so, yes.”

“Then yes, I agree.” She sat back and smirked. “I suppose it’s not the worst name I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s settled!” Honeypot raised his cup. “To the Malignant Miscreants!”

Their mugs met in the center of the room once more, and they all drank deeply, finishing their tea.

A screen popped up before Orion.

Do you want to name your party the ‘Malignant Miscreants’?

With a small push of will, it was done.

After some more excited chatter and playful joking, they called it a night.

After all, they had a day of adventure to come.