Mason stared at the screen, one hand resting on his chair, the other on Streak. Something about the wolf's mindless chewing gave him calm. Another reminder, maybe, of how simple life was under all the nonsense he felt confident he was about to see.

The screen finally changed in a slow, pixelized wave, revealing a long table filled with people. They were all wearing colorful robes with some kind of badges or medals on their chests. It reminded Mason of images somewhere between Jesus' last supper, and a military meeting.

The seated people had a wide range of ethnicities, a mix of men and women. Haley whispered, and her voice somehow carried straight to Mason, as if he wore some kind of ear piece.

"Four players, eight civilians. Players are top tier. The man at the end glows with player-killer aura, I’d say he’s the leader. But all of them have at least some."

An older East-Asian stepped into view near the front of the table. His eyes seemed to take Mason in with the smallest spark of concern before he bowed with practiced ease.

"Thank you, Baron, for receiving our call. It is my pleasure to introduce the ruling Council of Man. I am Ma Wei, Minister of Finance, one of the civilian leaders of the capital. Rather than introduce the entire council, however, for now I will simply introduce our esteemed ruler."

Here the man gestured to the man Haley had decided was their leader. Not that Mason had any doubt.

"From the shadows of ignorance, and the blood of the fallen, our Emperor has re-built civilization from nothing. He is Jeong the First, Saint of the Everliving, Eternal leader of Mankind, and Emperor of the World. He is to be referred to as Emperor, lord, or worship. Please inform us what honorifics we might use to refer to you, and we will happily do so."

Mason felt like he was in one of those Monty Python movies Blake loved. His patience was draining with every word. The 'diplomat' seemed literally to be waiting for Mason to tell these people what made up title to call him. He bit back his first three natural reactions, and apparently stared long enough the other man turned and mumbled something about audio issues.

"Just call me Mason," he said finally.

His voice seemed to startle at least a few people at the table, though the speaker appeared unruffled.

"Thank you, Mason. We are very curious about you and your people, and have a great many questions. But since we are honored and delighted to be receiving your majestic presence directly, perhaps for now we might limit ourselves to more cordial conversation. To get to know each other. Is that acceptable, Baron Mason?"

Mason could practically feel Haley (and maybe Blake's spirit) begging him to agree, to play nice, to join in this ridiculous game. And he probably would have if the 'emperor' on the far end of the table wasn't glowing with an aura Mason instantly recognized.

This ‘emperor’ was somehow immortal, just like Mason. How he knew that exactly he wasn’t sure, but he did. Jeong stared into Mason's eyes with a look that raised little hairs all over his body. Streak started to growl as he chewed.

Blake had been born with a horseshoe stuffed up his ass, but Mason had his own gift. He recognized violent men. In the emperor’s gaze he saw the thinly veiled, predatory gaze of some reptilian hunter—the only thing between Mason's neck and his hands their geographic reality.

Was he supposed to sit there and pretend it was otherwise? For what reason, exactly?

"What do you want?" he said finally, looking at the 'emperor' and ignoring the speaker. "I don't have the time or patience for..." he flicked a hand at the table full of people. "All this."

A momentary spasm of the same, predatory stare passed over the face of the speaker, and Mason decided he wasn’t so different than the emperor. But the look vanished as quick as it came, the older man turning to the 'emperor' for instruction or response.

The eyes of everyone at the table turned. Mason was curious what the dynamic was—if this leader was as in control as it seemed, or if he was surrounded by eager knives. It made him think about his own people, wondering how many might secretly hate him and want him gone. Or just resented his strength or position.

The answer, of course, was...you could never know. Mason did his best to gain the loyalty of his players. He trusted them, and wanted them to be as powerful and happy in Nassau as they could be. But you could never know what someone else was really thinking, or who was in their ear.

There were always people who smiled in your face and conspired behind your back. It was why Mason had always preferred to be on his own, hiding away from humanity. He didn't trust people. He wasn't sure if that made him broken, or wise.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

"Leave us," said the 'emperor', in a plain voice without urgency or charm. The table seemed surprised, but in twos and soon in a rush they made their way towards several doors at the back of the hall. When they were all gone the emperor rose and walked with his hands behind his back, coming much closer to the screen before placing a chair and sitting more like Mason.

"I apologize." The emperor gestured at the table and chairs, eyes sweeping the room. "A necessary fiction." He turned back to Mason and quirked his head like a bird on the hunt. "But you understand, I think."

"What fiction are we playing now," Mason said. The emperor smiled. It didn't suit him, and seemed ill-used, revealing misshapen, yellow teeth.

"You asked what I wanted. I want mankind unified. We both know this isn't possible without a fiction like mine. A source of order, and strength. A king, an emperor. Perhaps a god."

"Who says mankind needs to be unified," Mason said. "We have a continent. So do you. That's good enough for me."

The 'emperor's' pleasure faltered slightly.

"That is not sustainable. History shows us sooner or later we must unite or war. I have an empire already. Tens of thousands of souls beneath the banner of my house. I can see the map of settlements of this world as clearly as you can, Mason. Our reality is obvious. I do not ask for submission. Merely a recognition of that reality."

"It's a big map," Mason said, getting tired of the conversation now. "And we have a Nexus. You don't. I wonder why that is."

"All in due time," said the emperor, looking more comfortable now, like he knew something Mason didn't. "I suggest you think of your people in the long term, Baron. We have much to offer you. Players alone don't rule this new world. Your citizens will want to listen to what we have to say. And…” the man’s predatory gaze returned, “it's possible, even likely, many of your people's friends and families are here. They will want to be reunited."

Mason felt the colder thing inside him waking up.

So. This emperor’s ‘plan’ was to use captives. An endless campaign of threats and offers, the delicious carrot of loved ones a teleport away, the bloody stick of their execution. Mason leaned forward and stared at the little man in the screen, hoping he was truly listening.

"Thing with empires," he said. "They don’t last long without emperors. I’d be happy if our people were friendly. When the tech allows civilians can come and go as they please, as long as they follow the rules. This 'game' probably has worse things in mind for us, and it would be better if we got along. But I don't trust you. I don't think I like you. And for what you just implied, I may kill you to see what happens next."

Cold, calculating eyes met his and didn't shrink away. The ‘emperor of man’ reached for some device on his table, and the image ended without another word.

Mason sat back and let out a long breath. He heard a few watchers let out their own. Voices murmured until Haley was chirping in his ear again.

"That…could have gone better. I know we all agreed on intimidating. But did you have to be so...hostile?"

Mason shook his head, annoyed as ever when his intuition about violence and brutes wasn’t understood.

"Remember that giant stag in the woods?" he said, referring to some players they'd met at the end of the tutorial, one of which Mason had killed. "Remember the old chief of Nassau? That's what this 'emperor' is."

"Maybe. But it's not just him," Haley said. "There's so many people in that city. I'm sure we can reason with others, we can work to create structures and institutions that will keep both groups in check and ensure that..."

"This isn't Earth," Mason said more loudly, hoping the others were listening. "This isn't a man like other men, who can be killed with a stray bullet, who just gets old and dies. I'm immortal. Do you understand? So is he. We only go out in one way, and it doesn't matter what the others think or how many of his servants seem friendly. All that matters is what he thinks. What he wants. And he wants to control the world. To control us."

Haley was staring with wide eyes, and Mason winced. He realized then he’d never told her or anyone about his immortality. He’d known for months now and still couldn’t really comprehend it. But when he thought about the reality of an immortal tyrant he started to understand.

No doubt it came as a bit of a shock.

"I want…" Mason started more gently, looking at the clustered group of his key people. "All I've ever wanted was to be left alone. But it doesn't matter. It never matters. Not when someone else wants to fight. Not when they want you dead or gone or out of the way. Or when they want you on your knees. This isn’t a dance. It’s not a negotiation. It only takes one to choose war."

He met Phuong's sad eyes, the older man giving Mason a small smile as he nodded and walked away. Carl looked frazzled but slowly accepting, running a hand over his head.

"It was just the first call," Mason said, wishing he believed it could still all end peacefully. "There's nothing they can do to us. Not yet. So there's still time. Maybe his advisors will change his mind, or maybe…"

[System announcement. Congratulations on making first contact between continents! In honor of this and the official beginning of phase 3, the first system-enforced, Player vs Player, friendly competitive games will be hosted in The Neutral Zone. There will be amenities, prizes, and plenty of opportunity to interact and trade. Please prepare yourselves. The first iteration of the Friendly Competitive Games will begin in a few days! All surviving players are provided with complementary invitations.]

Mason put a hand to his head and rubbed his eyes. He felt like he was caught in a sea, being tossed from side to side and unable to catch his balance.

Complementary invitations. That was obviously roboGod speak for ‘mandatory attendance’.

So now he didn’t just have to worry about demons and undead and greenskinned monsters. Or the clearly tyrannical ‘emperor’ and his no doubt army of players.

Now their machine god was going to fight them like dogs in a pit. More so than it already was.

Streak stopped chewing long enough to quirk his head with a questioning look.

“No.” Mason rolled his eyes. “We’re not actually fighting dogs. It was…no, it doesn’t sound like fun. No it doesn’t. Would you just eat your stupid bone.”

The wolf huffed, then went right back to chewing.