The room, rather a hall, was shrouded in darkness, only the soft light of candles, burning with crimson fire, illuminating it. The walls were decorated with all manner of gruesome weapons, armor, and tools used in murder and sacrificial rituals.

At first glance, one would think they were all rusty and behind on maintenance, but if one were to go closer and examine them, they would realize that all of them were covered with dried and flaky blood. In addition, if they had the necessary skills or spells, they would also be able to tell that all the blood found on those items was from humans.

The table, made of some kind of shiny black material, in the middle of the hall, was shaped like a drop of liquid, with the two chairs – or thrones – at the narrowest point being the biggest, while all the others around were less ostentatious and lacked all the gruesome decoration that those two had.

Nary a sound could be heard as the people sitting in the chairs and thrones, all wearing crimson red cloaks hiding their bodies and faces, decorated with different symbols and colors, watched each other with quiet apprehension.

And behind the whole table and chairs was a giant fountain, the base decorated by skulls, the middle tower showcasing several human bodies contorted in all manner of torturous forms, while at the drop, an emaciated dragon's form could be seen, made from an off-yellow material, its mouth open and pointed downward. One of its fangs had a drop of red liquid suspended from it, and in the silence of the hall, everybody could hear as it lost its fight with gravity and fell into the base of the pool.

DRIP

PLOP

As the drop fell, causing small waves to appear in the otherwise undisturbed liquid, another took its place, and for some reason, fell much faster than the previous one.

DRIP

PLOP

Then another and another followed at a steady rhythm, filling the hall with the sound of constant dripping blood.

After a minute of this, one of the people sitting around the middle let out a groan, raised their hand to massage their temple, and spoke up with a suffering voice.

"Can we turn that fucking fountain off? I mean, I'm all for ambiance and whatnot, but that thing is giving me a migraine, and I didn't know this game could do that or that I was prone to migraines…"

DRIP

PLOP

There was a general murmur around the table, and one of the people sitting at the head of the table on the giant thrones let out an awkward chuckle.

"Sorry about that…" Then he made a wave with his hand, and the sound of dropping liquid ceased.

The first person let out a relieved groan and put their face on the cool table. The other person at the head of the table also spoke up.

"I told you the fountain was too much!"

"But I got such a good deal on it!" replied the other one petulantly.

"It was free, you idiot!"

"The best price!"

The people around the table watched as the two brothers continued to bicker before the person next to them slapped the table, the sound echoing around the room, and causing them to fall silent.

"Boys! We all appreciate a good deal – especially for shoes – but we're all here for a specific reason. What the hell did you do that for?"

There was no need to specify what that was. Everybody around the table was part of the leadership of their 'group' – though some may have called it a cult – and knew what those plans looked like. That didn't mean they understood the purpose.

All eyes covered by hoods were directed at the two brothers. The one on the left let out a small laugh, while the one on the right nodded.

"It's simple, really. We are all familiar with how Solar operates by now. He is the type who likes to ensure that he knows where everything is and how it works. With the chaos we caused, his eyes and attention will be on figuring out the plans and intentions behind the attacks."

"What purpose?" the other figure asked, slamming their fist on the table in frustration. "Because, so far, I haven't heard any reason why we had to sacrifice so many of our agents!"

The brother on the left continued. "Exactly! There is no purpose behind it! And Solar will spend resources trying to figure it out when there is nothing to figure out!"

"So, we make them waste resources? That's it?"

The brother on the right waved his hand in front of him. "Partially, but we also get hints about how their new city operates."

"We are still thinking that they are going to use Ferabor as a waypoint into the Emerald Kingdom?" came a question from somewhere at the table.

"Pretty much. With the political might they wield, getting the kingdom's support will be child's play."

"We could go around?"

"And I have studied history and know how stupid that is. We need to take that city."

"What about just destroying from afar?"

"Project Chernobog is still a work in progress, and I would like to keep the city intact so that we can set up a forward base. If we take it, we practically own the country."

There was a quiet murmur around the room as they discussed it before several people nodded.

"Alright, then what's the next step? Take our army and walk up to the walls and demand surrender?"

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The two brothers looked at each other before looking back at the person who asked the question.

"Almost," they spoke in unison before the right one continued. "We need to set up some failsafe. Solar is too dangerous, and he is surrounded by too competent people. We can't afford a mistake on the level of Sunspot."

Hearing that, most of the people let out an exhausted sigh. "Another upgrade to the operation security?" Several people asked at the same time, the pain in their eyes showing clearly, even though they were wearing hooded cloaks. Clearly, this wasn't the first time this happened.

The two brothers looked at each other, then back at the table, and nodded vehemently, their voices full of excitement.

"Hell yeah!"

"Alright, people, how are we on the whole brain thing?"

The medical professionals exchanged a look and then returned their gazes to the man with five o'clock shadow and a lab coat, holding a chipped cup of coffee.

One of the doctors opened his mouth, but the man in the lab coat snapped up his hand and made a shushing motion.

"No. I don't want to know the medical part. I get it, it's exciting. New frontier, yada-yada… I just want to know if it can happen again?"

Another exchange of glances before another person spoke up. "We recalibrated the tolerances and included several limiters and flags that would catch any similar cases."

"Nice marketing slogan. What about the Fucker? He is, after all, the anomaly, clearly operating out of bounds of the normal specifications."

"We made use of the scans we had taken when the…individual was in the hospital. We ran countless simulations, including recreating the incident. We are clear on how and why it happened and what parts of the pod and software caused it," he stated before swallowing nervously and then continuing. "However, knowing that the…anomaly has time and time again broken limitations and records, we cannot declare with one hundred percent certainty that it won't happen again."

The man in the lab coat took a sip of his coffee before nodding. "And what are we doing to prevent his brain leaking out of his nose and other orifices?"

"Err, we set up a specific routine that reports his health data, as agreed with his lawyer, for this specific purpose. We also set up a medic team in a nearby merchandise store, just in case."

"Good. What about the good stuff then? Anything we can use?"

This time, everybody looked excited. The man in the lab coat looked around and pointed at one of the women. "You! Give me a short summary!"

The woman straightened out and gave a nod. "Yes, er, sir! We managed to get magic sensitivity up by 64.3 percent. Our testers already reported increased ease of using it without the built-in assist."

"Anything else?"

"Yes, we improved several high-level spell control parameters, which would make it easier to use for the power players. Thus, it lowers the barrier to using high-level magic. Which, in turn, will make all players happy. I assume, the people who do economics can show on pretty graphs how that works out…" The last part came out rather sarcastic, but the man in the lab coat didn't really care. He raised his cup of coffee in salute and then took another sip.

"Good job," he told them, then, without saying another word, he turned around and wandered away. As the medical professionals watched the man leave, they heard one last muttered sentence.

"I need to make sure that the rest of the life of that Fucker's is miserable…"

They looked at each other, and one of them spoke up.

"Should we…tell the psych team?"

The woman who gave the report snickered a little. "I'm friends with Janice from the team. They have a filing cabinet full of him…"

"I think…they need another one…"

He stepped into the operating room, quickly surveying his domain, watching as people rushed to and from, the giant screen showcasing a multitude of people playing the game, while a small group was debating something around the table in their kitchen.

Well, they called it a kitchen, but it was mostly a wall of coffee machines, milk frothers, and a fridge for milk.

Looking down at his almost empty cup, he quickly drained it with a swig, did a fast check to see if he was needed for anything, and when he saw nothing, he headed toward the kitchen for a refill. Hopefully, his minions haven't programmed the machine to only dispense decaf for him.

As he walked by the group around the table, he heard a small snippet of conversation.

"…yes, but a royal decree…"

"I think it should be alright if…"

His feet automatically took him to his favorite machine while his mind was thinking about the words which, for some reason, caused a shiver of fear to course through his spine. For a long moment, he stared at the coffee machine before letting out a defeated sigh and turning back to the table.

With a low, hopefully threatening, voice, he called out.

"What did that Fucker do again?"

The minions around the table looked at each other before turning back to him.

"How did you know it was him, sir?"

"It's always him, for fuck's sake!" he growled. "Now out with it! What. Did. He. Do!"

The minion swallowed before he started talking.

"Well, sir, it appears our target has received a royal invitation."

"So? Dozens of players have received one all around the world…"

"Well, sir, it appears this one was by an official royal decree, which means…"

He let out a sigh. "It is an official, political invitation, not some no-name quest reward. Fuck."

Staring at the group at the table, he finally looked away after a moment – to their relief – and faced toward the bullpen of monitors and computers.

"SELENE!"

A screen not far from him sprang to life with the beautiful digital head of the AI. "Yes? How can I help you today? Maybe a cup of coffee?"

"Get me all the info about the meeting!" he spat as he grabbed a new coffee and stalked toward his 'throne'. "I want to know everything!"

"Naturally! I'm also happy to inform you, he has decided to buy new boxers, if you were curious," the AI reported in a chipper voice.

Adam surveyed the city before him and couldn't help but feel satisfied.

Leaving his old 'friend' behind has changed his life for the better. Hell, he was even in a better relationship with his grandmother. The rest of the family was hit and miss, but the last time he went to a family get-together, he didn't have the urge to leave after five minutes, so he would chalk it up as a win.

His new guild was a marvel of efficiency using his plans, though if he wanted to be honest with himself, it was much easier to do it when you were bankrolled by one of the richest people in the game and one of the most politically influential people.

Adam once had the chance to take a glance at the full accounting of their group, and the sheer amount of gold flowing through the guild, by his estimation, was around one percent of the game's entire economy. And when a game is played by millions and millions of players, that was a lot of money.

And the things he saw Lucy do within the political landscape of the Emerald Kingdom, and within the player community, made him thankful he had joined when he did. He really didn't want to see how he would have fared against her.

Added to everything was Liz, with her unique skills that were producing artifacts that would change the paradigm of the game's world.

"Fire!" he called out from his observation point, protected by several shields against debris, dust, and the occasional explosions.

WHUMP

The giant gun, set on a mobile foundation, fired, and the surrounding technicians were busy like ants, making sure it reloaded properly and nothing broke.

BAAAAAAAAAMMM

The hillside, far from them, where the targets were set up by the testing team, exploded into a cloud of earth and blue plasma.

"Armor vaporized up to tier six!" sounded the first report from a researcher working under Liz.

"Shields held for one point six one eight!"

"How are the runic defenses?"

"Number one through nine got destroyed, but ten was just disabled!"

Adam listened to people talking about the results before a person approached him.

"Sir, next step?"

He looked over the team around the gun and received an OK signal.

"Rapid fire test. Fire until it falls apart."

A clear excitement ran through the group as the man nodded. "Yes, sir!"

The entire area sprang to action as people retreated from the gun behind protections powered by his own power – which was the first thing they tested – and prepared for the test.

Originally, they wanted to test it against Sam's shield, but then cooler heads prevailed.

After a few minutes, a man ran up to him and offered him a small metal plate with a giant red button on it.

Without hesitation, he pushed it.

"FIRE IN THE HOLE!"

WHUMP

WHUMP

WHUMP

The gun began firing, blue plasma raining down on the target area, and he could already feel the rage of their enemies.

'Sometimes, it's really nice to be on the winning side!' he thought mirthfully as he watched plasma rain on the poor landscape.

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