ONE-TURN END
Elkia Royal Castle: the throne room. It had been a quick ten days since it was warped into a concert venue. But now it was as if it had all been a dream—its former state had been restored as good as new. The throne was back to what, according to Steph, was its proper position, steeped in fine tradition. Also in their proper positions—
“Hmm… You think the turn’s about over yet?”
“…Soon… Maybe…three more, days…?”
—fiddling with their tablet, sat the king and queen of Elkia, Sora and Shiro, who both groaned.
…The turn should be wrapping up… The other players should be about done. They thought back to the turn they’d skipped, which could hardly be called a break…
They’d had nothing to do. They’d dedicated the turn to producing Holou. And yet, things got even crazier than expected due to an astonishing guest: Ex Machina. But as soon as the game had ended…Ex Machina had gone away somewhere without a word. Of course. It wasn’t as if they’d made them pledge to be their allies. They’d made them pledge to abandon their love, and reproduce so they would not perish. That was all. They could go where they wanted. They could come back as an enemy if they wanted. They were free.
—But that’s kinda cool, too. Sora and Shiro smiled to themselves. If Ex Machina were to come back of their own will and challenge “ ” properly…they’d welcome them.
Still, they were left here with fine fruits of Ex Machina’s power.
“…Soraaa… Shirooo… The merch is about to sell out…”
A tired-looking freight girl arrived in the throne room— Ahem. Steph in working clothes. Sora looked her in the eye as he responded promptly.
“Heh, fear not. The eighteenth printing should be here soon! Sell those suckers!”
That’s right—Holou’s show had been such a legendary success, merch was flying off the shelves. Though it did have to be said—
“…All we have are block prints and books of block prints of Holou… Can we not do more?” Steph lamented.
Elkia didn’t currently have the technology to create anything impressive. In fact, they’d gone to rather unreasonable lengths just to make these pinups and albums. Specifically, they’d photographed Holou with their phones, had Jibril make blocks with magic, and began mass-producing the printed prototypes they’d had the Academy research, which artists then colored… In other words, this shit was the culmination of otherworldly technology, magic, and abuse of state power. Steph was appalled by this senseless commercialization of untold artifice and labor, but even so, she had to wonder:
“I would love to hear Holou’s songs more… Won’t you sell them?”
Yes… Steph, who had fallen deeply for Holou’s song, wanted—rather, everyone wanted more than anything else—to hear her sing again. Elkia was already gaga over the picture albums. Not that Elkia had audio recording technology or media. But surely Jibril could help out the Kingdom of Elkia—
“Mmm… You think so, huh? Everyone thinks so. I think so.”
Surely the Commonwealth of Elkia could do it. Sora nodded to Steph’s suggestion.
“Of course we’ll sell them. If just for the chance to crush the idol agencies of the Eastern Union . ? ”
“…P-pardon…?”
Sora’s inordinately evil smile made Steph take a step back, but he and Shiro stood from the throne and raved on.
“The Shrine Maiden attended the performance. Surely you don’t think that was by chance?”
“…We invited, lots of big shots, from the Eastern Union… Especially…those involved…with the idol industry…”
“? For what purpose?” Steph asked the siblings as they wandered aimlessly. And then…
“Heh, heh-heh-heh, don’t you see? Very well—we shall tell you!”
Sora and Shiro clicked their heels and revealed their scheme—!
“Holou’s concert drew an audience of thousands. But! Her reputation has spread throughout the Commonwealth!!”
“…Words, spread like lightning… Picture albums…sell like hotcakes…!”
“But guess what ! No one’s got the video or audio! I mean, we don’t know how to manufacture them !”
No true business professional would miss a chance to grab some cash. So—!
“All the businesses in Eastern Union who refused to give us equipment will come pounding on the door to pick up the audio!”
“Oh! So then you’ll make good with those who—”
“But we’ll say no !! Buzz off! Get lost! We’ll humbly decline and slam the door in their faces—!!”
“…We’ll tell them, come back yesterday…and belly laugh…and sneer…and point!”
Steph thought she had it figured out, until Sora and Shiro filled the castle with their screams of how wrong she was. Sora carried on theatrically, frivolously, leaving Steph in a daze.
“Whaaat? I mean, like, think about it, trying to suck up to the big guys; Bl4nk Productions is, like, sooo out of their league! You guys totally shafted Holou, and now she’s ours ! ? And then when you see she’s hit the big time, you act all nice and stuff? Oh my God!! That’s suuuper bitchy ! You’re, like, sooo pathetic, y’know?? ? ”
Nothing could be more pathetic than Sora’s rendition of a stereotypical teen’s vernacular. Shiro and Steph had the impulse to inform him of this, but instead they waited for his conclusion. He sat back down on the throne, crossed his legs, and arrogantly divulged his conclusion.
“I mean…if you signed an exclusivity contract with Bl4nk Productions, we might consider it.”
“…But would anyone really accept such conditions?”
No matter how much revenue it might rake in, it couldn’t be worth cutting off all their other contracts just for Holou, Steph argued, but Sora declared:
“Sure they will. ’Cos Bl4nk Productions is gonna be the biggest idol agency in the Commonwealth.”
The song of the Sirens, the craft of the Elves, the technology of another world: a whole new kind of music! Under the powerful hand of “ ”, the unifiers of the races and Holou’s producers!! At least some of the industry big shots they invited would have to think this. And frankly, they only cared about some of them. That is to say—! O producers in whose souls ambition reigns supreme! If you be a producer whose soul burns to raise your idols to greater heights—
— you must switch your allegiance to Bl4nk Productions!!
“Assemble, comrades, under the banner of Bl4nk Productions, with your animal-girls!!”
Sora looked to the sky, opened his arms, and called out for his compatriots, the heroes, to join him.
“…All the Eastern Union’s…idols…suits…and producers…are ours…!”
And with a huff , Shiro took her place—on his lap—to hammer the point home.
They were going to gobble up the Eastern Union’s agencies. Their talent. Their market. They were going to devour it all. Tariffs? Cancel that shit! Tax breaks, special exemptions up the wazoo! You’ll see what happens when you cross Bl4nk Productions. Your body will remember the price you paid for opposing the government!
“…Your deviousness is so reliable, it makes my head hurt…”
“But!! That is only the beginning…!”
Sora boldly ignored Steph to lay out his grand aspiration, his endless end!
“Before long, we shall install relay devices not only throughout Elkia and Eastern Union, but throughout the entire Commonwealth!!”
Like TV or radio. They’d make Holou’s song boom over every realm!
“Even the assembled technology of the Commonwealth of Elkia is not yet able to achieve this… But—”
Sora’s eyes burned with the ambition to make it happen—
“Ohhh! Ahhh… Dear one… Why are you so cold…?”
—and suddenly reflected an unpleasant piece of junk that appeared before him, nose to nose, finger lifting Sora’s chin, teeth sparkling.
“You desire such a device… Heh, such a challenge is nothing before my power of love.”
“Don’t we have any other power source?! Hey, why are you even still here?!”
—I mentioned that Ex Machina had gone somewhere. Sorry, I lied. Most regrettably, there was one unit still here, for some reason, and it was Einzig.
But then…when you thought about it, it would be a waste for Ex Machina to leave. After all, their power was enough to take care of everything, for they were the perfect stage equipment. In fact, there had been plans to bring them properly into the Commonwealth fold in the future—
“Why? Hmm… What is there to wonder about a man desiring to stay by the side of the one he loves?!”
“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m—not—your—guy ! I thought I bound you by the Covenants to abandon—”
“No. I understand now. You are not the Spieler… You are Sora.” Einzig smiled as if sentimentally accepting everything. “Set your mind at ease. For my love is pure and proper—I am in love with you !!”
“That does not put my mind at ease!”
—Why? Why did it have to be him ? The trope was that the girls were still there. At the very least, that wasn’t the kind of line you’d hear from a guy!! Sora cursed this world that betrayed every sacred expectation geek culture had given him.
“…I must apologize. I will impose on you but one last time, of reluctance to part. It would honor me if you could overlook it.” Einzig’s tone had turned wistful. Yet, he concluded with an even brighter smile. “…I shall follow the other units—back to our base.” Turning on his heel, Einzig went on with a brisk voice. “Reproduction must now be my top priority…to produce the new Einzig, who will succeed this one who has long since passed his limits. Therefore, this is the time to set your mind at ease…for this will surely be our last meeting.”
“……”
Einzig walked off with his back to them. “It is true… My dearest, you are not the Spieler. But—” Still, he spoke loud and clear. “You are the Nachfolger. And we will never go back on our word again.”
— We have come to assist you. We are your allies.
The weight of his words brought to mind what he told them when they first met.
“Ex Machina will always be your ally. When you rise again to topple the world, we shall run to your aid,” Einzig declared, still walking. “…It might not be I. But whoever we are, we will bring you victory.” Yes: “ Next time. This time , we will not go back on our word.”
“…We can’t make you wait that long.”
The machine that had chased one hope 5,982 years past the end of his service life now departed without turning. No—the man , who now meant to say good-bye.
“You hung in there for 5,982 years. Just hang in a little longer… See ya.”
“… Bye-bye… Let’s…play again…sometime, ’kay…?”
Still, their amiable words did not turn him back. Gallant and attractive, the only reply was a slight chuckle. Sora decided not to notice the trace of tears…
……
“Man, like, those guys were pretty hardcore. I mean, they were annoying and awkward, but…”
As Einzig’s form receded from view, Sora thought back on the machines with hearts and came to a conclusion. They’d embraced paradox and become like people—just as awkward.
—But perhaps more pure. They had persisted in an unfulfilled love for one they knew was gone…for thousands of years.
“…I guess I can see how the epic gamer who ended the war could’ve fallen in love with them.”
Sora so candidly summed things up, and Shiro and Steph chuckled and nodded softly—
—when.
“ Hypothesis: If love specified for abandonment in previous game limited to Spieler…”
Gah!
A monotone voice echoed from behind the throne, practically making everyone scream.
“ Corollary: …Then Master intended loophole to allow love of this unit for Master. Inescapable conclusion.”
That optical camouflage shit again? The maid robot materialized, her violet hair and skirt fluttering. Yes…it was the heretic of the heathens, Emir-Eins, carefully aiming her finger-gun at Sora’s heart.
“ Determination and Confirmation: Master is in love with this unit. Bang.”
Her deadpan wink worked surprisingly well as she expressed the firing of hearts or something from her finger. But Sora, the word miss rising from his head as the poorly aimed shot passed him by, replied:
“Emir-Eins? Huh? You’re here, too?!”
“ Acknowledgment: Always.”
“Even Einzig left! What are you doing here?!”
“ Rejoinder: This unit is Master’s wife.”
“ I’m—not—your—guy. How many times do we have to go through this? Did you delete and rewrite your memory again?!”
As Sora clutched his head and groaned at her hopeless persistence, she grew flustered— No.
“ Panic: Misunderstanding inferred. Previous statement was not fact, but rather, the desire of this unit.”
“Oh, so you do get it…”
Expressing panic only verbally, Emir-Eins corrected herself placidly.
“ Summary: Ex Machina lost. Unit re…rejected by Master… Fatal misunderstanding… Chassis temperature elevated: Shame detected. Erasing memory—failed. Already disconnected; how… Hilfe. ”
Despite her calm tone, the contents of her summary grew more and more distraught, to the point that smoke began to rise from her. After finally begging for help, she dropped her head limp like a puppet with a broken string, like a person tortured by the recollection of her humiliating past—but she didn’t leave Sora and Shiro time to worry.
“ Defiance: Still. This world provides option ‘try again.’ So. Therefore. This unit.”
She raised her head again and looked straight at Sora with those glass eyes. While her hands shook, clenched together at her chest—did she notice?
“ Wish: Again. This unit will express feelings to Master. Attempt this time …… Okay?”
Emir-Eins was begging, pleading for a rematch. As a gamer, how could he shut her down?
“…Ah, fine. But just one more time. And if you still get pwnd, let’s play a different game.”
To begin with, she’d just thought he was some other guy and fallen for him as an extension of that. If they were going to play again, Sora wanted her to play them , he implied. Emir-Eins plucked up her skirt, took a deep curtsy, and hummed:
“ Lösen —Org. n —Checkmartyr—”
Then she took a deep breath. No—Ex Machinas don’t need to breathe. In that case…it looked to Sora as if she was steeling herself, shaking off her uncertainty and unease. Then, as had happened so many times before, everything around them was rewritten, and everyone braced themselves.
—However.
“ Hesitation: Master… No. Contingency judged to require name correction—”
Emir-Eins just stepped, stepped toward him hesitantly. Nothing, not the scenery, not the time, nothing had changed . Not her appearance, not her voice, and not her dress—as she approached him. Not the Spieler. Not her Master. Him.
“ Identification: Unique and singular target, name: Sora…”
Yes—she called his name. She gingerly extended her trembling hands toward his torso and hesitantly squeezed as she buried her face in his chest. Rubbing it this way and that…as if to feel his heartbeat with every fiber of her being—
—she said only this:
“— Confession: This unit loves Sora.”
……
…………Uh. This was not good. Sora’s arms almost reflexively hugged her back, but he just managed to stop them. He applied his gaping, cracked diamond of reason as he looked upon the transcender who had at last reached truth. Truth. Yes. Like Holou. You could write out the most eloquent poetry of love in the finest calligraphy; you could present a thousand bouquets in front of a full orchestra. You could decorate your words with the most perfect grasp of preferences, conditions, and tastes…and still.
—They could never compare to this inexpert, artless, and desperately brief outpouring of desire from a single girl. They could never compare—to this truth—
The self-evident truth, that is, that this shit was like a hammer upon the diamond rationalization of his pathetic virginity that threatened to smash it to pieces—!! Damn…he’d never had anyone straight-up tell him they liked him before… Sora imprinted on her and was about to say, “I’ve always loved you, too”—
“ Reiteration: This unit loves Sora. This unit is in love with Sora…”
“ Request: Informal naming system not compatible with Ex Machina processing. Rename.”
“Did someone finally just tell me to abandon my name?! It’s Stephanie Dola!”
“ Deprecation: Disclosing most useful information from advice of entity provisionally labeled Unknown.”
Sora began to weep, bringing the total number of people with tears in their eyes to two, including Steph. Emir-Eins continued on indifferently.
“ Elucidation: Master permits lies, jokes—but not lies to self.”
Then, with a “Therefore,” Emir-Eins smiled faintly.
Even Sora, who was so good at reading people, could just barely follow what she was saying. But in the end, he didn’t know what it meant. She kept grinning. It was a declaration of war against all other women.
“ Pledge: Until precise moment functional life of this unit ends, this unit will never hide her love.”
“… ? ?!”
“—Uh, whaaa…?!”
Emir-Eins left Shiro and Steph speechless and pale as she turned.
“ Estimation: If this unit restricts operational output—this unit can operate six whole years more.”
With that, she faced Sora again and took an elegant obeisance with the implication, See you again. As for Shiro and Steph, she gave them a glance, with an expression that this time was clear. It was a sneer.
“ Determination: This unit will not lose—to foes who are not true to themselves. Easy. No sweat.”
Well, then. What’s wrong? Smile, Sora, virgin, age eighteen. Ex Machina’s still here! And just as you wanted, you’ve got your perfect stage equipment, and she’s a girl! Not even a girl who thinks you’re someone else, but one who’s spelled out in no uncertain terms that she loves you. You’ve come all this way surrounded by gorgeous girls and women from many races, and yet, this is the first time one has said she loves you. Weren’t you looking forward to this? Was this not the trope you desired?
It was just that…this girl seemed a little bit…off. Wicked enough to, for some reason, look at Shiro and Steph as if they murdered her parents. Imagining what would happen if Jibril showed up gave him the chills…and…another thing. For some reason, it seemed as if everyone was looking at him as if they wanted to stab him now… Hmm…
“Man…how do alternate-world protags maintain their harems?”
Sora decided that, at any rate, he wasn’t up to it. That much he knew for now. Instead, he focused all his energy on how to get out of this situation.
This commotion now behind him…Einzig chuckled, acknowledging his jealousy for Emir-Eins. He walked slowly so as to record every bit of this scenery he might never see again. In this city, built up by their distant descendants, which could be expected to endure—
“…O thou. Ex Machina. Presumed to be individually named Einzig…”
—someone was standing there, so naturally to the point that it seemed unnatural. Out of place in a city of Immanities, yet, as if she belonged there. With her inkpot, a god in the shape of a little girl…Holou spoke.
“Thy advice hath enabled Holou to form a provisional hypothesis as to the nature of hope and wishes…methinks.”
“…………”
As Einzig stood silently, overcome by a strange sensation, Holou heedlessly failed to get her words out repeatedly. What was it she wanted to say? What was it she wanted to tell him? She seemed to guess hundreds of millions of times and verify each guess—
“…Holou hypothesizes…she must convey thanks … Gratitude! ”
Awkwardly, but with a smile, she got her point across. Einzig— No, Ex Machina …replied:
“A god is a god for that she is a god. Therefore, we shall never be able to answer thy question.”
Puzzled by this unprompted utterance, Holou cocked her head to one side. But even the speaker himself did not know its meaning any more than she did. They continued speaking as if their voices were merely being played back, their thoughts clouded by noise.
“But we shall reply to thy doubt. Doubt is the heart. Therefore, thou who questionest the doubt art the heart.”
Einzig did not know. None of the surviving units did.
“Thou art she who resolveth the will. Thou art she who wisheth for hope. Thou art she who is life in all who have hearts. Yet, thou art she who doth not perceive it.”
Only one person knew the question that Ex Machina had been unable to answer for eons.
“Thus, let us now answer thy question of that distant day.”
“Our answer: If thou wilt hear us…we will talk.”
The question was known only to that god who had asked it, who now stood wide-eyed. It was an answer to Holou’s former self, the Holou from a past far too long ago to conceive.
“…O ye, is it as suspected…? Are ye the machines of that day…? ”
Holou gave a bitter smile. Even after filtering the noise, Einzig couldn’t grasp what she meant. The machine man turned his head as he suspected a failure of severity exceeding that which had been detected by his self-diagnostics, yet—
“I must thank thee again. However— Holou…is fine now!”
He felt strangely convinced by Holou’s smile. He left her just a narrow-eyed smile in return and slipped away into space.
“…Accursed Tet. Foul knave… Thou dare call Holou too fast ?” Holou mumbled, grinning. It was just her now.
“How perverse! Holou is outstripped by her own creations!”
Loaded once more now, the memory, as ever, had a number of consistency errors. It must have been all the damage and logical faults: The data was inordinately abstract and fuzzy. But even Azril, no, everything that had been alive that day had heard it.
“Nameless weak one—thou mayest hold thine head high, having truly proved thyself worthy to be mine enemy.”
The last words of the god of war, commending his foe before he fell, were as follows . It is said that only the mere twenty-eight Ex Machinas, marred and smashed and broken from head to toe, recorded them…
“…Challenge me again at any time, O weak one.”
It could scarcely be believed that he was on the verge of vanishing, gouged of his ether, so steadfast was the simmering of the god of war as he declared war once more. It was all the machines could do to reply.
“—You wish in vain, O fallen strong one.”
But the god of war laughed it off as if amused beyond knowledge.
“It could not be that I might fall, and yet, it is. Aught can be. Tell your lord, O blades.”
Yes—his words were not for Ex Machina, but for their lord. The weakest, whom the strongest had been forced to define as his natural enemy. The machines who had been able to gouge the strongest of his ether because they were the blades of the will of the weakest—now listened to his words for those who had forced him to no longer be the strongest.
“It was a fine match—and next time, I will win.”
…With all due condolences to this god of war, these words could never be said. For the lord of these blades, the natural enemy the strongest of gods had recognized…that is: the weakest of all…the Spieler and the Preier…were no longer with us. For they had been succeeded by a different weak one—the two of Immanity.
……
Far above Elkia, in Avant Heim, the city of the heavens, Azril sat on its edge, watching the machine man, Einzig, shift away. She remembered a story he had recently told her—one of her lord’s final moments.
“—Azril. Do you mean to let them go?”
Avant Heim’s question reverberated within her. She smirked.
“…What would be the point…? Lashing out at the blades that pierced my lord, after all this time…”
And rules were rules.
“I said I’d let them go if they gave an answer that tickled us. Aren’t you tickled, Av’n’?”
Azril smirked more deeply at the hushed Phantasma and recalled.
—That day her lord was slain, he was…smiling. A broad smile had spread across his face—the first and last time Azril had seen such a smile.
…He must have been so happy. After six thousand years, she finally realized. After an eternity of ennui, he had met an enemy he could challenge with all his spirit…and lost. Still. He intended to win: Next time, next time… For his disciples to complain before such sublimity was nothing short of blasphemy.
“…For me to let defeat make me despair…I truly am…a false disciple.”
All she had left to do was laugh. Azril just walked and thought:
“…The enemy of the strong…is the weak…? Hrmm… Hrm?”
…Sora and Shiro. Indeed, they were weak. The more strong allies came, the more strong allies fell before them. Their nature was pure—they devoured the strong . They were so weak… So weak you had to ask, You have to go that far to win? They were so foolish… So very foolish, and still they’d dared to challenge a god, and brought her down. Their weakness was beyond the ability of the strong to imagine, even to comprehend. Thus, they stood as the enemy of the strong, fulfilling their duty as the weak. Azril now believed she faintly understood them.
However—
“Hmmm? Then couldn’t you also say, the enemy of the weak is the strong ?”
The weak devised tricks, tactics, and strategies to combat the strong. But they devised them—always—to defeat an enemy too strong to beat fairly. Then was not the enemy of the weak—the overpoweringly strong, strength beyond the ability of the weak to imagine? Losing was not an option—they devoured the weak .
“…Nyaahhh, I dunnoooooo… Who should I root for?!”
As she walked, a thought popped into her head that made her clutch her head and squirm. They weren’t the same individuals. They weren’t even the same in form. Yet they, the weak, had succeeded them. And if someone took the place of the strong, who were left with the will to take on challenge after challenge—if, having tasted defeat, having learned of the weak, the strong stepped forth for next time … If these strong and weak faced one another once more, for whom should she root…? Azril writhed under the serious weight of this concern, until— boom .
“…I know! I’ll just pick the side that’s more fun . ? Nya-ha-ha! ? ”
Her head nearly exploded from overheating. Her thoughts ceased, leaving only a carefree laugh, full of hope, to ring through the city of the heavens…
Three days later, at last, the sign that read C LOSED FOR B USINESS finally disappeared from Elkia Castle. Shiro had mumbled, “End of turn,” as it went down, and immediately, all manner of national apparatus scrambled back into motion, breathing life back into the once-deserted castle.
“We’ll be so busy… I don’t even wanna think how much work’s piled up.”
Steph sighed in disgust, but the monarch rested on the throne with dignity.
“Hmmm! Bet you’ll have to work especially hard, Steph. Meanwhile, we’ll be doing the usual.”
“…We can, count on you, Steph… We’ll…do, our job…!”
“…Understood. Your Majesties intend to play as usual… Hff…”
They were playing games on their portable device even as they spoke, which made Steph heave an even deeper sigh. But—
“Well, yeah, you could say that…since that’s our field.”
With that, Sora and Shiro lifted their faces from their game console…at…
“It’s always best to leave things to the experts. So we leave politics to the politicians.”
There was a glint in their eyes as they looked over the people gathered in the throne room: the ministers and staff who had returned once the castle was reopened, along with some others as well.
“And so—leave gaming to the gamers. We’ll solve problems the way gamers do.”
Representatives of the commercial associations and guilds, even a number of lords, were in attendance.
“Hey, Steph. In strategy games, you only skip a turn…”
There was a distinct air of discontent, as the entire group appeared murderous while Sora and Shiro alone stayed jovial—as if mocking them.
“…when you’ve, got…tonnnns of free time…or if you’re, waiting for something…or both . ? ”
Sora and Shiro’s statement only made Steph blanch with the worst premonition she’d had yet. The two of them grinned at her and thought—
Expansion-oriented strategies were such a pain. Once your country got more powerful, you had to deal with all the new pressures from inside and outside, all the footwork. For instance…in this turn, they’d had nothing to do. They couldn’t attack, and they wouldn’t be attacked. But now with this next turn, that unbearably boring situation gave way to a whole spectrum of choices. That said, this new turn had a problem of its own.
—of the slight uncertainty as to whether they could survive. But that’s what makes it so thrilling. Sora and Shiro grinned.
“So, Steph! This is our last chance. While we still can, draw us up a national missive.”
“—Huh? Uh, y-yes…? T-to whom shall it…be addressed?”
Steph seemed confused by their disregard for the crowd’s agitation.
“Mm. To whom…? Hmm, we haven’t decided yet, but anyway, this is what should say.”
Sora went back and gave it some extra thought… To whom should it be addressed? The fairy-girls, or the dwarf-girls, or perhaps they could even go for the dark horse? He considered with amusement who should be first— for the loss . Meanwhile, he dictated the letter he would have Steph send to them.
“Hey, dumbasses, need some help? How ’bout you thank us by giving us your whole damn country?”
Now back to the beginning.
Remember the law of increasing entropy? The law that it’s easier to destroy than to build, easier to lose than to keep. Right, so…what does it mean to recap? To recapitulate . To settle the capital one has built up to build further capital upon it. How does one go about this? Well, normally, one would check one’s foundations. This would involve a careful review of the status quo and a thorough survey for any existing problems. When problems are found, one must address them one by one in an assiduous process of correction. It’s a painstaking operation.
Unfortunately, our two gamers despised games where they had to grind. As such, they dismissed this custom out of hand and opted for a mode that was easier and much more badass. So with that, let’s get back to that spoiler.
On this day. At this hour. Sora and Shiro, king and queen of Elkia, lost everything, in a domestic insurgence : the throne of the monarch, the position of agent plenipotentiary, their home, their power. They lost most everything associated with their royal authority, and about one month later—
—the country known as the Kingdom of Elkia disappeared from the map . It was the easiest and most badass method of recapitulation… Indeed.
The means to an end known as destroying it all .
It was as if to say, I think this ought to be the fastest route .
No Comments Yet
Post a new comment
Register or Login