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World Game!
20: Manufacturing Mirages

20: Manufacturing Mirages

“Holy shit, that was the best sleep I’ve ever had!”

Jumping out of bed and opening the curtains of the tiny window in her storage room, she looked upon the pittance she had left it after her friends so carefully cleaned it up before her duel with Bruno.

“Maybe I should spruce up the place a little…” Walking past the still sleeping Carbuncle who cobbled together a comfortable nest of dirty clothes and discarded fast food packaging. She put her hand on her forehead, an attempt to relieve the pounding headache she awoke to. “Shit, I must’ve slept so good I didn’t want to wake up!”

As she closed the door behind her, she admired her now open living space. What was just stacked along the walls had been taken outside to its proper place and entirely out of her way. The old pair of 'Sloggin' Toes' found themselves in the proper place too: the trash.

“Squeak?” Carbuncle approached tentatively, having been woken up partway through her impromptu cleaning day.

“Oh ‘Buncle!” Sarah swooped down and picked up the fox-rabbit thing and rubbed her face in his long coat, “And how are you mí pequeñito?”

Carbuncle had to cough to have any chance at freedom from her death grip. Letting him go and placing him on the freshly made bed, she bent down to poke him on the nose.

“Do you ever have those days where you just wake up on the right side of the bed?”

“Squeak?”

“It’s an expression! Geez, what is up with you?”

Still in her bedclothes, Sarah happily made her way into the living room with Carbuncle cautiously following behind.

“Well hey there! You’re up early.” Aubrey stood behind the bar that separated the kitchen and the living room. From the sound coming from the oven, she was frying up some bacon. “I was kinda worried when I saw you coming out with bags of concrete.”

Jumping backwards into her favorite recliner, Sarah patted for Carbuncle to sit on her lap, “Yeah, felt like I needed to spruce the place up a bit!”

Aubrey leaned on the bar as the bacon sizzled without a care in the pan, “That’s awesome to hear, Sarah. I’m glad you’re finally calling this place home.”

A burning smell began to tickle the air, “I know Albert likes to give you a rough time, but he seems genuinely happier with you around. I think he misses having family around, even though he’s putting up this whole ‘cool loner’ type of vibe.

You know…” Smoke rose from behind the bar, the sizzling bacon only grew louder, “I think it’d be a cute idea for you to invite your sister and your mom!”

“Uhh… Aubrey?”

But it was too late. Aubrey had sunken into planning and coordinating fun things for the family to do, “Yeah! Your brother always tells me about you guy’s sister. I’d love to see if she’s a crybaby like he said. He thought he saw someone who looked like your mom yesterday at the Hayboy Convention, but it was just a-”

The fire alarm finally went off as Aubrey caught wind of the inferno starting to spread onto the frilly white apron she happened to have wore today.

With the deftness of a leopard, Aubrey was freed from the fancy accoutrement and across the room in half a second. Grabbing the fire extinguisher which has lately found itself by the kitchen for instances such as these, she began to hose down the still sizzling strips of pork in a motion which was certainly practiced. As the white smoke smothered the flames roaring from the pan, Sarah found herself awestruck and unable to move.

As the panic died down, it was just Aubrey left in the kitchen panting with the fire extinguisher in her clutches. The bacon was obviously ruined.

“But yeah… Yeah, it was just some other lady selling hay bales in the shape of dogs.”

Sarah gulped loudly. “Wow. Uh, yeah, she wouldn’t be the one selling hay. She’d probably be the one in charge.”

An alarm rang out, causing her to jump out of the seat. Taking a second to recover from the sudden heart attack, she checked the phone in her pocket giving her a second heart attack.

The coffee shop was empty. Empty aside from a woman with silvery grey hair and a sharp pantsuit sitting in the middle of the lobby. She sat cross-legged sipping an insulated cup that she usually did.

Her piercing eyes dug into Sarah as soon as she entered the cafe. “Sarah Louise. I was wondering when you’d finally meet with me.”

“Hey mom.” She had made the effort of dressing up, but between spending most of her light salary on either cards or food, her wardrobe was certainly lighter than it was before her exile. “Still got that tracker installed on my phone?”

“Of course. I saw you removed it, so I just put it back on while I had custody of it.”

Dr. Priscilla Weatherford was a hawk of a woman. Behind the same thick frames she shared with her husband, was a cold stare without a hint of compassion, even for her daughter.

“So… What have you been up to?” Thankfully, Carbuncle stayed at home, despite his insistence. She would flip with me bringing a strange animal. Let alone any living thing...

With another sip of tea and her eyes still dissecting her daughter, Dr. Weatherford cleared her throat, “Well, I’ve been quite busy. I’ve recently purchased a jet ski. I’ve heard no one could ever be sad on a jet ski.”

Sarah threw out a forced laugh. While a strange sense of comedy, this was her mother’s attempt at a joke, something she only did with her very few trusted individuals. Best remain on her good side. I'm not sure she's on dad's side of this or not...

“No, but I did purchase a Japanese entertainment licensing company, an agriculture interest magazine, and a card game company. I figured I should diversify into entertainment media since that appears where the market is currently trending.”

She rattled off her list of entire companies purchased like items picked up at a grocery store. If anyone could only use one word to describe her, ‘passionate’ would certainly be the last on that list, a polar opposite to her husband.

“Sounds like you’ve been busy…” Sarah sat back in her chair, trying to see if Kyle or Marty was working behind the counter. “You bought out Manufacturing Mirages?”

Dr. Weatherford showed a glimmer of shock for one second before returning to her stone cold expression, “That I have. I would have never guessed that you of all people would be interested in card games.” She adjusted herself, maintaining her stoic expression, “You’ve always preferred your ‘trashy reality shows’.”

“Huh.” Sarah was taken aback, “Yeah. I recently found that about myself too…”

“Well, I could introduce you to the lead designer behind Manufacturing Mirages. He was the CEO until I stepped in.” She threw up an exaggerated shrug, “The company was failing until recently. Now we’re the top game in the nation.”

“Sounds like you.” For the first time, Sarah felt a bit of pride for her mother. While she struggled to make ends meet, her mom thrived. She did more than that, she found more and more things to thrive in. “But why not? It’d be kinda fun to see what we both’ve been occupying our time with!”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

For the first time since her daughter left, Priscilla smiled.

“Make sure not to disturb Mr. Rotewasser too much. He’s testing out some of the product for the next expansion.”

Dr. Weatherford opened a nondescript door in the middle of a long hallway. The building itself looked way different than one would expect a product focused on a fun user experience would be created. From the outside, it just looked like a standard office building on the less desirable part of town. Apparently, they had not spent their sudden influx of income on anything flashy yet.

The room seemed just as plain. Florescent lighting hummed above white linoleum tiles. A few tables were spaced around the room with stacks of cards and art utensils. Stretched canvases were evenly spaced, forced to fit where they could. A lone man, certainly smack-dab in the middle of his sixties was hyper-focused on an easil before him. Tubes of paint were haphazardly strewn about on the floor around him as he delicately danced his brush on the canvas before him.

After enough time passed, Dr. Weatherford stepped into the room, “Sarah, this is Mister Jeff Rotewasser, our chief designer and playtester for the World Game trading card game.”

The old man continued his work without a single reaction to the people behind him.

As he made a few more strokes, he finally set the brush down before turning around on his swivel stool.

“Ah!” He jumped out of his red leather seat, “Oh, Prissy, you scared me!”

“Prissy?” Sarah threw a coy smile at her mother, who began to rub her temples.

“And who is this? Is this that daughter you mentioned? Reba? No, no, that’s the other one. Suzy? Sandra?”

Sarah held her hand out, “Sarah Weatherford. A pleasure to meet an esteemed creator such as yourself.”

“Ooh Prissy, you never told me she was so well-behaved! And so beautiful too! Just like her mother!” Mr. Rotewasser certainly was eccentric. Although certainly not as strange as alien possessed businessmen and mind altering supermodels. “And you’re a fan of my work? I'm still not used to hearing someone say that after 35 years of developing card games that went nowhere!”

“Mr. Rotewasser, I told you to refer to me as ‘Dr. Weatherford’. I did not spend twelve years studying medicine to be called ‘Prissy’.” It was rare to see her mother’s typical non-expressive facade crack. Apparently this man had greater power than one would expect.

“Of course. My favorite card is the ‘Gemless Carbuncle’.”

The joy left the old man’s face.

“Wh-where did you hear that name?” Every jovial bone in his body immediately crumbled out of fear. He took a few steps back from the mother and daughter, quickly oscillating between fight and flight.

“Whoa, whoa!” Sarah raised her hands in supplication, “It- uh… It was leaked online. I really like the art that I saw.”

Between Miranda and her mother, Sarah thought she had been visually scrutinized thoroughly the past few days. Those paled in comparison to a man cornered and desperately gathering information to ensure his survival.

After a few drops of sweat hit the floor, the man finally gathered himself once more. “Of- of course! Those darn dirty leakers!”

A default ringtone chimed out, echoing in the room. Stepping away from the two, Dr. Weatherford answered her phone. After a few tense sentences, she covered the microphone with one hand, “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Sarah, don’t scare Mr. Rotewasser like that again.”

“Sure thing… Prissy.”

With a glare, Dr. Weatherford left the room, leaving the old man and the young woman.

“Tell me… Why do you know the name of the card I just finished this morning? The canvas is still right there drying.” He motioned towards a piece of art that resembled the exact same picture on her ACE creature’s card.

“I’m not sure myself…” The sight of a card she had for a bit over a month’s concept art before her was mind-boggling. “Uh… Lucky guess?”

With a deep sigh, he sat back down on his red stool, his silver hair shimmering in the artificial lighting. “I already know about the war.”

“Oh, thank fucking God. I honestly had nothing after watching you flip out like that.” She crossed her arms as she looked at the still visibly shaken man. “Are you alright?”

“Depends.” He stared holes into her. Like a cornered rat staring down a mountain lion, he had already given up hope. “What do you want from me?”

There was an audible gulp. “I guess answers? I’m not here to hurt you or something.” She scratched the back of her head, “We both, just, kinda got thrown in this shit, haven’t we?”

“For sure…” The tension slowly dissipated back out of the room, “Sorry. I’ve been accosted a few times by you ACE creature wielders.” He turned towards one of the many piles of cards that were dotted around the room, “Funny how I spent my whole life making what I love just to suddenly be afraid of it…”

The old man suddenly showed his age. The dark bags under his eyes became more pronounced. The wrinkles in his face became chasms.

Sarah placed her hand on his shoulder, “That fucking sucks, bro.” After giving it a moment, her gaze returned to the still drying canvas on the table, “Mind if I get a closer look at the Carbuncle’s art?”

He absentmindedly waved his hand, “Go for it.”

She picked up the box canvas, careful of the paint still wet in places. The art was exactly as she remembered, just much larger and in more vivid detail than what fit on a card the size of a driver’s license.

“It’s one of my wife’s favorites.” A creaky voice came out from behind her. “She tells me all about the fantastical creatures she sees and I try my best to bring them to life.”

Begrudgingly setting down the canvas, Sarah turned back to Jeff Rotewasser.

“I think it all makes sense now.” He adjusted himself on his stool, “It’s my wife who comes up with the designs. She scribbles them on a piece of paper, she was never a good artist, and I try my best to recreate them.

At first, it was fun. Finally, I got to share my passion directly with the love of my life and we got to create a card game together…”

“What happened?”

“She came down with something the doctors couldn’t figure out almost a year ago, shortly after we started working on World Game together.” He loosed a soft chuckle, “She was the one who came up with the name too…”

He crossed his arms, simply recalling the story from memory, “She would spend more and more time asleep. But every time she woke up, she would tell me about some fantasy world she visited. From a great city crawling up from the depths of the sea to the peak of a gigantic mountain, to an underground crypt where it’s denizens were ghosts or fragments of human imagination, she would describe in greater detail these locations and those inhabiting them. Of course, as a card game creator, I want to put these ideas on cardboard. And, as I’m sure you know, the game grew far, far bigger than anyone could ever expect.”

“In more ways than one…”

“Yeah…” He had another chuckle, this time more genuine, “It’s just a shame it cost me time with Annabelle. She’s only able to stay awake for less than an hour a day now.”

Sarah leaned on the table, trying her best not to knock over any of the cards littered across it, “Geez man, I really don’t know what to say…”

“Yeah. Sorry for dumping it on you, lil’ miss. I can’t exactly go around sharing this story without getting locked up in the looney bin. But…” He turned to face her, “You never answered my question: how do you know about the ‘Gemless Carbuncle’? Annabelle literally told me about that creature this morning. Is it your ACE card?”

Now it was time for Sarah to get her story out, “Yeah, he’s my ACE. I got him about a month and a half ago from some creepy dude at a card shop.” She rubbed the back of her neck, embarrassed to verbalize what actually happened without coming off as a crazy person as well, “He used to be a ghost that only I could see, but after dueling another ACE user, he kinda became all fucking tangible and stuff…”

“I see…” He ruminated on what he heard for a moment.

“I think…” Sarah stood up straight, “From what I’ve seen, ACE creatures can exist in card form before you even create them, as weird as that sounds…

Like, I had ‘Buncle before EVO creatures existed and he always had that effect to evolve into anything.”

“Yes. That’s his thing. He’s a 3 play point, 1 attack card that can evolve into any EVO creature regardless of condition.”

“And gain you a play point on summon.”

Jeff cocked his head, “No? All he does is evolve. It’d ruin all sorts of balancing to let him ramp you as well.”

“What? He’s always gained me a play point on summon. It says it on the card!” She wished she had it with her to prove her point.

“That…” He scratched his head, “That’s weird. I really disagree with letting something that powerful out in the game at this stage.”

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t ever give him both effects?” She pointed her finger up.

“Not really. Maybe something down the line, but not within the third pack.”

“Okay.” She leaned back on the table, this time knocking over a few stacks of cards, “So we can rule out that the cards got here through time travel. That’d be so fucking stupid if that was the case.”

Jeff stood up in excitement, “You’re right! Where do these ACE cards come from? If I’m not making them, who is?”

“We can’t be sure, but we do know that ACE cards can be fucking wild. By the way…” She pointed directly at him, “There’s this thing called Ascend Summoning that’s fucking bullshit. You get to, like, evolve off of three or so creatures on the field and do some disgusting shit. Don’t make any fucking cards that do that.”

“Well, I already was plan-”

“Wait. No. Never mind. Fucking make those cards so I can beat that fat bitch and her card that does that stupid bullshit.”