“You’re thinking in the right direction,” the investor agreed, satisfied. “I like that idea. A global event needs to become advertising to attract new players. However, we should also showcase our loyalty to our customers. We need to be flexible. Yamato, what lost property can you save?”
“Well, if we use neurovisors, a lot, I guess,” Yamato said, rubbing his narrow chin. “Spatial storage contents like chests, bags, and deposit boxes, all Golden Hamster assets, auctioned items... We’ll have to do it manually; it will take a lot of time. Many objects, such as real estate, equipment, transport, ships, cannot be restored at all.”
“No worries. I give you my permission to use any in-game resources other than money and game time. However, you must present it as our gesture of goodwill, not an admission of guilt. I hope that’s clear. Basically, rummage through your rainy-day fund for trinkets and try to salvage as much as possible. As for you, Lana, you know what to do. Fan the flames, launch a few more videos about this event.”
“Mr. Agasyan, I have a question,” Yoshito said. “What if it happens again? What should we do? The goddess doesn’t seem keen on stopping. Will we clean up after her every single time? I’m sorry, but that is not an option. What if the same thing happens in ten worlds at once? We don’t have the staff for that. We need a real solution.”
“As far as I know you, Yamato, you already have one,” Agasyan said, frowning. “Come on, spit it out!”
“I do. As I study Sphere, I always run into traces of my predecessors. Apparently, Balabanov’s team also had trouble with controlling the procedural generation by administrative methods. The incident in Taerland proves this. But they had a way to use the internal means generated by Sphere.”
“I don’t get it. Speak clear!”
“The archives were destroyed, and all I can do is make conjectures. I think they had powerful digital incarnations that allowed them to solve such problems for good. From inside the game — does that make sense? I suggest we use their tactics. But for this, I need you to give me free rein.”
“Free rein?”
“Yes. We still don’t understand how this Law of Balance, the auto-balance mechanism, truly works. The procedural generator responds in confusing and sometimes unexpected ways. Often, its countermeasures are hidden or delayed, making tracing them impossible. Ananizarte’s conquest is definitely the AI’s reaction to something, but what exactly? There are theories, of course...”
“And you’re afraid that it will strike back at you if you try to interfere,” Agasyan said confidently.
“No, not at us. At all players of Sphere.”
Chapter 4
“I’M SCARED, HotCat.” Weldy’s eyes were red. She probably had been crying.
“When they came again, I thought...” She stammered. “That they came to get me! I was terrified. Will they ever leave us alone? Players say the castle will fall...”
“It won’t,” I said firmly, squeezing her hands. “It won’t fall.”
In truth, I wasn’t convinced of that. Pandorum’s war engine had hit its stride, and stopping it would be extremely hard. However, we could — and should — try. Even a pebble could stop a huge mechanism if it got caught between the gears.
There was still a lot of time left until the next checkpoint. Most Watchers were busy preparing for the raids, while some rushed to get their hard-earned possessions out of clan storage. Thankfully, they were the minority.
The clan leaders left for a war meeting. Before they roped me into something unexpected, I slipped away on the sly. Something required my presence, especially since I was going to act generally in the interest of the Watchers.
A portal into the Grand Temple of Shadows in Helt Akor was built into my cloak. If I could, I would have taken Weldy with me so she could wait out the war in safety, hidden away in the sanctuary of the gray god. Unfortunately, the teleportation worked for only one character.
The temple of Tormis hadn’t changed. Light and shadow played an elusive game between the three incarnations of the god of trade and thievery. It was improper to visit the temple without a gift. I carefully touched the Beggar’s stone palm, leaving an offering — one of the items I had looted from Pandorum mercenaries in the Hole.
Someone started slowly clapping behind me, and I abruptly turned back. Nothing was there, but my shadow vision caught a trail of shadows quickly moving toward the altar. A second later, Tormis materialize there in his usual guise of a man wearing a hooded cloak. He fiddled with the offering, examining it — it was a rare blue sash — and casually threw it back to me.
“Cat, oh Cat. Why would I need that junk?” the god asked softly, reproaching me. “That isn’t why I’m waiting for you here. I’d rather you tell me something interesting.”
Tormis loved secrets and mysteries; it was his favorite offering. However, I had nothing to tell him at that moment, which is what I told him.
“You can pay me by answering a question,” he said, smirking. “Why did you bring THIS here?”
He stretched his hand, and one of the temple walls disappeared, revealing a view of the Silver Stronghold peacefully soaring in the air on the opposite end of the cave. It was connected
