Chương 97: The Great Act I

The next morning, I felt infinitely vitalized and ready to take on the evils of the world. — but not before checking my socials of course. Damn, I gained, like, half a million subs overnight. Was that all because of Genesis, er, Genny's podcast? Wow that was popular, and wow, now I was popular too. Moderately more so than before, at least. The numbers don't matter… that much. Remember what you promised. Make the world a better day than yesterday, and prove it. Show the real you.

So, I did what any responsible magical girl slash internet pop star did, and whipped out my camera for a quick morning stream.

"Heyo my spiderlings, hope you all slept snug as a bug in a rug. This is video numero uno of My Daily Custodian Life. Anyway, I think most of my fire support is still conked out." The camera swerved, catching my other two Sam's and Addy in a vague knotted pile of limbs and covers, a head visible here, a hand or foot there.

"After a restful two hours of sleep, the gang slowly limps awake from yesterday's travails. Actually, I don't know if I should be recording this. Hey Addy, do I have your consent to get you on camera?" Addy mumbled some indistinct curse.

"I'll take that as a maybe. If this video gets taken down, you know who to blame!" It was around five AM, so I wasn't expecting many people to watch the stream live. But a hundred quickly turned to a thousand turned to ten thousand people watching me peel a whole hand of bananas. Questions ranged from why the heck I was already up, to what cereal I was eating, to wait, is that motherflipping Tanuki Terror!?

"Because I'm fully employed, some oats & nuts, and no comment. Lemme eat some breakfast first." Breakfast was easily made and ravenously consumed, caloric intakes for Custodians like me ranging somewhere above ten thousand calories a day.

"Y'know," I said to the camera after my fourth full bowl of oatmeal, banana, and jam, "I bet my brain's still leagues more efficient than equivalent processing power in a data center. No idea why that's on my mind. I guess… we're not perfect as Custodians but, like, we're pretty good." Someone asked what dying felt like.

"Well, it sucks. We feel pain." Sometimes, a lot of pain, pain nobody but us can ever understand or feel more than once.

"But it's nice knowing there's something after it. The afterlife is real, people! No, I will not confirm which religion got it right or wrong. I'm Trigger Happy, not Trigger Discord. Speaking of, there's the first quest for the day." [Assistance request] Assumed difficulty: Lvl 35 -> lvl 65, 2->4 agents Objective: The danger level of a convergence event was severely underestimated due to faulty local equipment and intel. Clear the event and save the lower level Custodians from an ignominious death loop.

Reward: 1000 Soulcoins at full clear shared among all participating Custodians, 500 Soulcoins per saved Custodian, 1 Ivory soulcoin on completion of all objectives. [Estimated time until both Custodians run out of lives: 10–15 min]"Shit. Time to scoot." I tossed my spider backpack and various non-soulbound gear on before zooming out of the HQ.

"I'd record the whole shebang, but uh, the domes sorta interfere with wifi, so I'll be seeing you peeps after the fact!" +++ Finn was a nightguard, and he was not having a good time. Nightguarding didn't pay well and was done in shifts. For most of his career, he'd been bored out of his mind, wishing something would happen. Now, he couldn't patrol the grounds of the local hospital and adjacent institute for microbiology without nearly having a heart attack.

His flashlight swerved left and right as he checked every out of place object twice. It would've been reasonable to be on the lookout for burglars, or other people instead of aliens. The vials and vats were full of expensive, proprietary proteins or something, they were worth trying to steal. And realistically, mimics only appeared in one out of ten convergence events in these parts. He was still scared shitless, all the way until he reached his station.

It was a small office wired into the various cameras around the place. He heaved a sigh as he locked the heavy door behind himself, and found nothing out of place. Now there was nothing to do but twiddle his thumbs for two hours until his next round. His hands were shivering. He felt the ragged scar across it, the parts that had to be stitched because one of the small pink fuckers had jumped him a year back. He'd punched it, and the thing had morphed around his hand before trying to saw it in half.

Today's a bad day. Just watch something. Take your mind off of it. Checking his phone, he found an unread message. <<Heya bud, found something to stave off the boredom and I had to think of you. Here's the link. >> He clicked on it. It was… a stream of yet another one of those self-important Custodians. They did important work. That was objectively true. And yet, it had taken a full thirty minutes for one to show up during his own emergency.

They could save the world all they wanted, but if they didn't save his world… it was hard to care. The video was already running. A young woman with six arms and six eyes was yapping about migratory birds, of all things. In the distance, one of those fuzzy magical domes came ever closer, until suddenly, it was there. She's fast.

"Alright peeps, this is a convergence event dome, I'd explain more but I have no time. Also, since I can't exactly record inside without giving away my super secret Custodian powers, here, have a nature documentary." In one moment she was standing in front of it, in the next, a David Attenborough-like voice was explaining the life cycle of the Theridion Grallator, commonly known as the happy face spider.

It was such a jarring cut from a sense of urgency to relaxing animal sounds that he didn't notice how enraptured he'd been until the stream cut back to the Custodian. She standing heroically in an intersection, the dome dissolving above her head. A mimic much like the small one from his nightmares, but as large as a car, was skewered on a street lamp, still twitching. Her smile was strained and her face covered in tarry goo and pink giblets.

"Well. That was harrowing." She breathed out, evenly.

"But once again, spider powers save the day! Fun spider fact: Spiders don't have muscles. They move via hydraulic pressure. Their legs are literally full of liquid! More spider facts after the next dome." Finn snorted. The sudden contrast between cheery clean, and then cheery but moderately less clean was odd. He recognized some of the hissing splotches on the ground as dead or dying mimics. Despite not showing one second of it, she made grinding through hordes of the fuckers look easy. Hordes of them.

Every single day. God, how the heck do they stay sane? The stream cut back to the documentary for a moment as she jumped to a teleporter.

"Heyo, we're in France! Oui, Oui, Oui, I don't know any words besides Oui and if I say baguette or croissant, I'll look like a total douche. This is my favorite fish vendor! Oui, oui, er, Oui? I ordered fish. Yes, I'm the bird lady. No, I can't tell you if or when she'll leave. Here's some money!" Shortly after, a truly gigantic bird alighted on the road as she stepped outside, making a sound straight out of Jurassic Park. The Parisian Superheron had made its nest on the capped tip of the Eiffel tower.

Its nest had nearly the same round shape as the old observation deck. God, that thing must shit tons every day. The Parisians welcomed it in most part, mainly because the thing seemed to hate murderbots with a passion. There were plenty of phone recordings of it and her three kids sailing above Paris, just waiting to dive down on any murderous machine. The Custodian — Trigger Happy, because of all the guns, right — tossed a couple bags of fish up with four arms, which the heron snatched out of the sky.

Moments later she was riding on its back, a mile above the ground.

"... we go way back, like waaay back. Did I ever tell the story of how we met after I was banished to super-hell? Wait, she's saying something." Trigger Happy leaned over to the bird, nodding along to barely audible grumble and click-clacks.

"Plants, down there? Haha, I am so not ready, but that's my cue. Cheerio people, remember to stay hydrated and B-positive!" She flashed her vampiric canines in a smile and jumped off the bird, triggering a parachute at a frankly ballsy distance to the ground. All the while, she was reloading her various weapons to the tune of humming Gonna Be Alright. If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it. He found himself humming it as well.

It wasn't often that he found himself truly watching a video without doing anything else these days. But her voice, the casualness with which she strode into catastrophe, was soothing, like she was a friend right at his side. Two hours passed in a flash. By the time he had to head out again, Finn was feeling… better. He had his bowie knife and company issued taser. He was almost looking forward to the next mimic that tried to imitate a beaker, or a discarded soft drink. I can do it. I can help just a little bit.

And if I can't… there's someone out there who can. +++ Addy, two weeks later A little over ninety-two hours. Breaking my record for longest time spent awake shouldn't have been this easy, nor happen this often. I first set it during the ur-mimic hunt. If someone told me back then that I'd break the record three times in a single year, I'd probably just have stared at them, filed it away under 'maybe important', then promptly forgotten about it.

[Sense Trade], and the resulting massive increase to my Body stat, made sitting at the table and eating cereal after yet another convergence event marathon feasible in the first place. Robotically, absentmindedly, a spoonful of milk hit my tongue. I slurped it up, looking down. I didn't refill any cereal. This was my third bowl. How did I not notice? Ugh. Whatever. I'm tired. I tried to close my eyes, but after a moment, I shot awake, heart beating in alarm. What? Danger? Where?

It was a notification on my system interface. I must've dozed off when the tiny ding shook me awake. Ever since Sam told me she'd tried to contact me during the Pactmaker business but failed, I made answering any call immediately a stringent habit bordering on the neurotic. It felt bad not answering a call, horrifying in an instinctual way few things did. Just a notification. Sam is doing a podcast with Genesis again.

She had invited mister shield champion dude, and even brought a giant, wardrobe-sized present which she placed on a table as if it was the lightest thing ever. Moments later, the present burst outwards, revealing the clown guy, the one with the balloons and confetti. Champions of anticipation and surprise, talking about the weather, joking around… she looks happy… good, good… My reflection on my phone screen as the stream buffered didn't look happy.

Of the three Sams, the one with the scars always seemed to be doing the least well out of everyone. I… should've made more time for her in particular. But it was hard when helping like this wasn't second nature. I reach out when I'm lonely. I'm… not lonely with Smiley and Smoothy around most of the time. Scars… I should ambush her. She loves… personal attention… My eyes fluttered shut again. I dreamt of many things.

The alien kudzu I'd spent ten hours cutting and cutting intruded with its grassy smell, mixing with a lizardwoman shaman muttering a curse, and the happy look on a kids' face as their mother got them ice cream. I also wanted ice cream. I didn't have the time. Eating sandwiches was more efficient. I dreamt of a giant toad with scales, and how she was going to eat Sam whole. I dreamt of ads, so many ads. When I woke up, my tongue was dry, and I wasn't sitting at the table, but on the couch.

The TV was playing some filler episode of the early Star Trek seasons. Six arms were wrapped around me, as was a thin blanket.

"Morning sleepyhead," Sam said, Smoothy, going by tone and timber. Even her voice was softer than the other Sam's, belying a calmness and control that made me melt in relaxation.

"You look like you made out with a tumble dryer. How could you, Addy? I thought we were an exclusive thing."

"Mnhm," I grumbled, noting the time. I'd slept for twelve hours straight. A ridiculous amount for a Custodian.

"Sam, why am I wearing nothing underneath the blanket, except for some ropes?"

"Smiles and I found you almost drowning in a bowl of milk. Regrettably, your clothes were a casualty of the extraction process." The look on Smoothie's face made me forgive her immediately. She booped my nose.

"We elected to keep you here, contained, for rest and recuperation, hence the ropes. Are they uncomfortable?"

"Not really." They were a snug fit, criss-crossing my chest, stomach, and winding around my thighs. Like a full-body hug layered on top of the one I was already getting. It was a little bit weird, but maybe Sam's spider instincts were acting up, in need of prey to wrap up and satisfy… well. Instincts. Now, how to prove that theory…? I wriggled a bit and she hugged me tighter, giving my neck a nibble. Yyyesss, definitely spider and vampire instincts — aaack, that tickles!

Another system notification was enough to abort my squirming. Another mid-high level convergence event. I was needed.

"I've rested enough."

"You have not." I tried to stand up. She gently, yet firmly, reeled me back in with a silken thread I wasn't aware was attached to me, the thin thread leading to a heart-shaped window around my solar plexus.

"But the convergence event—""Can be handled by other Custodians."

"But if it breaks—""I've got low-cost body doubles cordoning the riskiest ones off. Well, mine and Smiles' over there. The funny thing about us is that even though we're reducing the amount of doubles we can make at once with every smart Sam we summon, each of us has our own mental load, meaning we can coordinate that many more basic doubles."

"That seems pretty effective." More than that, it was a force multiplier. For now the dozens of doubles were spread throughout Chicago. What could they accomplish if they all congregated in one place? It would depend heavily on their gear, on what Sam can afford to kit them out with. Assuming she has twenty doubles with two of her weakest weapons, the Toothpicks, that would already cost her a thousand Soulcoins. Add to that simple combat vests, backpacks and bandoliers for ammo, the ammo itself, time bandaids…

Sam was staring at me. Why was she staring at me?

"Addy. Did you forget what time it is?"

"Time? Oh. Oh!" Smiles, who had been sneaking up on us for a while now, surged up to the other side of me, living up to her name with that feral grin of hers. She slipped four hands under the covers, brushing up and down my thighs, while the two others guided my lips into a deep, longing kiss. Smoothy tugged at my back with the string in her hands, forcing me to lean forward and into the kiss just to barely catch enough of that sweet, sweet bliss.

Rudely, as the first kiss broke, I felt her tilt my head backwards as she stole an upside-down kiss right afterwards. By the time we broke apart, I was feeling lightheaded. If I could stay like this forever, I would have to become a joy caster. It was almost stupid how happy she made me.

"I thought. Um. Well. Should we wait on—" The door to the common room slammed open. Scar Sam strode in, costumed and radiating confidence like a toothpaste ad.

"I have arrived — oh wait, you've already started. Nice! Hiya Addy, Smiles, Smoothy." Smiles and Scar Sam exchanged frantic six-armed waves. Smoothy meanwhile just squinted at her.

"Sam. Is that hickey?" Shivers paused, looked down at her neckline, and paused.

"Oh, you didn't watch the stream? There's this new wand people use to prank each other, it makes illusions that last upwards of an hour. I really hope she used that to write on my bazooka, and not some permanent marker." Her bazooka clonked on the ground, Smiley's eyes going wide as she beheld the string of numbers.

"She wrote her number on your bazooka?" Scar Sam froze, as if just realizing the implication as she saw the hickey and this in a mirror.

"Is this her idea of a prank? She's definitely trying to make us angry. That goddamn... gah!"

"I assume you got her back though?" Smoothy asked, not even doubting her for a moment.

"I gave her neon whiskers and cat ears. Chat was calling her adorable, which she absolutely could not handle." She showed us a slideshow of pictures, during which Genesis went from annoyed to embarrassed, to silently boiling with fury, to embarrassed again. It was weird. Unnerving. The image of the giant lady now with neon cat whiskers and ears, and that same lady punching people in the face at mach 1 just didn't line up.

"You're making friends fast," I noted.

"That's sort of the point? I'm building a full anti-Trust coalition because evidently, if we don't beat her first, we won't ever get everyone to the bargaining table." She placed her goodybag onto the counter, which immediately exploded into confetti with a pop.

"Ack!" Everyone looked up, where Scars was now stuck to the ceiling. She coughed a rain of rainbow confetti.

"Goddammit William," she muttered.

"Whiskers and cat ears would fit you too." Smoothy cleared her throat. Her grip on me had slackened. She was so easy to distract. Honestly, it annoyed the hell out of me.

"So, it's progressing well?"

"Five out of six Champions have tentatively agreed to a non-aggression-pact for the next game, and Zeb, champion of disgust, will join an outright alliance if the pay is right. If we can do this, then combine our forces whenever Trust comes onto the field, we can slowly whittle away her envoy's power-share until they're out of the game." My eyebrows rose. That was an awfully safe and reasonable plan, which meant it was not at all ambitious enough for my spidery girlfriends' tastes.

"Uhuh, great. And what's your real plan?"

"Get a coalition of all the champions, then pressure the envoys into removing the games entirely." She shrugged, still stuck to the ceiling.

"Hope it works."

"Which includes getting Trust on our side. You didn't forget that he killed a Custodian, the champion of sadness?"

"I…" Scar Sam blinked rapidly.

"I feel… that, well, sometimes… look, I don't know a thing about Trust. Heck, all I've been getting from everyone else are rumors and assumptions. Murl's prophecy says the world is ending this year, which is why I'm going to ambush Trust's champion with an offer he can't refuse. He's always zipping and zooping around, but I got a tip that he's in a mall in New York, shopping right this moment."

"Terrific." Smoothy gave a long-suffering sigh before peeling herself off of me.

"This is more than a one-girl-job. I'll help." I groaned in annoyance.

"Fine. Guess I'll sit here all trussed up until something happens."

"You could come with?" Scar Sam hedged.

"We could all make this one big outing." Say yes, dammit, say yes.

"I wouldn't want to intimidate her." No, you idiot! Not the time for jealousy!

"Besides, you seem to be doing quite fine on your own. Or, your owns, plural." I turned away, trying to focus on the wacky Ferengi subplot running on the TV. There was shuffling behind me, and the telltale silence of system communication. Scar Sam, having peeled herself off of the ceiling, kneeled down in front of me, making it damn hard not to look into her eyes.

"Addy. I would love nothing more than to have you along with me. And I'm sorry. You returned from the Cauldron barely a month ago. Even if we're both busy, I should've made more time for you." You always get what I'm thinking. It's unfair. I'm the one who can read emotions wafting off of you. How can I be mad at you if your breath is literally colored like sadness?

"As long as you really mean it," I mumbled. And a moment later, I got a fun idea.

"Hey Sams. Gimme a moment to get dressed." Less than an hour later, we stood in front of the Mall in Creektin, each Sam dressed for a casual outing much the same as I was. Smiles had a knotted green top and white shorts, straw hat, and sunglasses. Smoothy was in cargo pants and a baggy T-shirt with some punk rock band's logo on it. A single feather earring dangled from her left ear, drawing attention to her smooth nape. And Scar Sam looked just as normal, her spider-themed blouse tucked into her long, cut-up jeans.

Me, I was rocking a classic summer outfit: Black offshoulder shirt, black skirt. No expectations of backflipping today, so a skirt day it was. I was still wearing shorts beneath, because with my luck, we were about to be called away to fight an appropriately disruptive convergence event. I swished my skirt left and right. That always drew looks from one or more of the Sam's, which was the entire point.

"Addy. I can see your bra strap… that isn't a bra strap."

"Oh my god, she's wearing the rope underneath it!? Addy! Why?" Scar Sam and Smoothy looked horrified. Smiles was tearing up from laughter, face red, six shaking hands digging into her sides. I crossed my arms and grinned at her.

"I woke up after a great nap only to find two of you all over me which, in my humble opinion, is the best way to wake up. And you interrupted that. So, if you actually succeed against the impossible and make a friend with that walking natural disaster, I might just give you a reward before we get back." The synchronized shivers that ran through the three bodies of my girlfriend was a memory I'd treasure forever. I am loved. It feels good to love. And I would do anything to protect this. Anything.