5.2

Four pointed limbs and a jagged body emerged, pulling forward from its encasing. It’s flat, square, head stuck out, all edges and angles. Its mouth looked more like a bear trap than anything else, and August found himself taking a step back from it—the unexpected size of the emerging creature enough to trigger something deep inside him.

It craned its head around, taking in the immediate area, and watched both of the Voithos for a long moment before it spotted Ladybug. Ladybug waddled forwards until it was well within the creature’s range, and August felt his hackles rise as the two monsters stared each other down. Ladybug was slightly taller than the Mitikos, but with its body fully extended, it was clear that it had her outweighed.

The Mitikos clacked its jaws together and turned away, dismissing her. It spotted him and then began to crawl forward. August stayed where he was, and when the creature stopped next to his leg, he very carefully knelt down. It didn’t attempt to maul him, so he reached out and placed a hand on its jagged head.

“I think it’s safe,” August said belatedly, feeling his fear fade just a sliver. “That, or it’s biding its time.”

“I’m surprised you’ve managed to survive this long,” Kalter said, shaking her head. “That was an unnecessary risk.”

August didn’t respond to the comment, mostly because she was right, and he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of getting defensive about it. It had been a risk, a calculated one perhaps, but still a risk. The safe way would have been to fence the monster off and slowly increase his interaction with it to make sure it wasn’t still feral.

“[Assign Role],” August said.

Select Target

Select Role

“What does that mean?” Kalter said, frowning.

“It is a part of the process—the roles give access to the mana manipulation I told you about,” Rittan said easily. “There were three options—”

August ignored the two, setting the target to [Mitikos] and expanded the [Select Role] option.

Striker

Defender

Evader

Between the [DEFENCE] and [M. DEFENCE] scores, the tough exterior, and the [Pyhhric] skill that said it could ignore pain, the monster was clearly weighted towards defence—stacking more defences on top of it might be a waste, and with its low mana pool, it wouldn’t be able to evade an attack more than once per fight if he went with [Evader]. Giving it the ability to more easily kill another monster would probably be the best use of roles.

Mitikos has become a Striker.

Mitikos has learned Bash.

“Those seem to be primitive uses for Mana, compared to what the Gaians could do,” Kalter frowned.

“It’s a first-level skill; they’re usually garbage,” August said distractedly. “I imagine there’s something better available once the proficiency increases.”

“Proficiency?” Kalter said.

August pretended not to hear, keeping his attention on the monster in front of him. He scratched the thing under its chin, genuinely surprised at how docile it had become. It had definitely been trying to fight its way out before, and now it was as calm as the surface of the lake—that was a massive mood change.

“I suppose we have an answer to what [Tame] actually does,” August said, frowning. “It’s definitely friendly now, so there’s our confirmation—the technique messes with their minds.”

“Indeed,” Rittan said, watching. “It seems happier, at least. Perhaps it is for the best.”

Happier maybe, but it didn’t exactly get to choose—maybe the thing liked being angry. Maybe being angry was the normal state of being, and changing that took something away from its experience.

“Maybe,” August murmured. “You guys ever hear about the pleasure machine?”

Rittan placed a hand under his chin as if in deep thought.

“I mean, there were a few of those at my workplace,” Rittan said, trying not to smile. “But I have a feeling that’s not what you are referring to.”

“Fool,” Kalter said, snorting.

“Not like that,” August said, shaking his head. “It’s another hypothetical from back home—not a sex toy.”

“I haven’t heard of it,” Rittan admitted, glancing over at Kalter.

Kalter just crossed her arms and glanced away.

“Right—in general, people have different definitions of what ‘good’ means, and it stems from what they care about and how they choose to value things,” August said, thinking back on the many late-night conversations he’d shared with Alice, she would always spring these things on him when he least expected it. “Most people see it as a moral judgment of an action—good and evil, right and wrong. Some view ‘the good’ as a lack of suffering. Others view it as a life lived in service of their religious values—duty to a higher being. There are as many goods as there are modes of thought.”

August patted the [Mitikos] on the head and then pushed himself back up to his feet.

“To a hedonist, ‘the good’ is a journey towards pleasure. Living a life surrounded by beauty—attraction towards the senses; art, music, experiences, people. An absence of unfulfillment, of fear, worry and anything else negative that is inflicted on them.” August said, wincing as the [Mitikos] bumped its head against his shin. “For the hedonist, pain is a big one to avoid—Pleasure increases their wellbeing, and suffering decreases it.”

“A selfish outlook and useless besides,” Kalter said, frowning. “Pleasure can be found everywhere, but it does nothing to provide safety or security.”

“Yeah, pleasure doesn’t provide those things,” August agreed, “But to a hedonist, safety and security would be more pleasurable than a lack of it, thus something desirable. They’d seek it out because that’s what they know.”

“What of those who seek pleasure to the extent of self-destruction?” Rittan said, looking up at the sky. “Substances and experiences that deliver pleasure do not always have the best outcomes for most.”

He’d asked Alice the exact same question once upon a time.

“That’s a core part of the question,” August nodded, “If there was a machine that you could hook yourself into, one that simulated reality perfectly, but it was far more pleasurable than the one you exist in—would you do it?”

“If it is a simulation,” Rittan said slowly. “The pleasure wouldn’t be real.”

“You would know that it’s a false reality,” Kalter frowned, “Your body would be stuck inside of a machine.”

“What if you didn’t know?” August said, scratching his neck. “Say you had the choice to wipe your memory before getting in it?”

“Why would anyone subject themselves to that?” Kalter said, shaking their head.

“A perfect world, without pain, without suffering. One where all their deepest, darkest desires come true?” August said rhetorically, “Sex, power, money, pleasure; all of it, all of the time. All of the flaws you see in society, gone, replaced by a perfect utopia made in reflection of your image—how could anybody say no?”

Kalter glanced away.

“That’s what you experience after you’ve already made a choice,” Rittan said, closing his eyes. “You wouldn’t know what any of that felt like until afterwards. If you value something greater than pleasure—ah, I see.”

“Depends on what you value, right?” August said, smiling. “A hedonist would jump into the machine with his cock in hand, but if you offered an indistinguishable but fake heaven to someone who is truly devout? They’d never take it. If you offered it to a person who values a lack of suffering—well, they might take it. But for anyone other than a hedonist, it isn’t so simple a choice.

“I’m not sure what I would do,” Rittan admitted. “I will think about this.”

“A lack of suffering isn’t the same as an avalanche of pleasure,” Kalter murmured, turning back to face him. “Who gets access to this machine? The elite few?”

“That depends on which society you’re mapping the hypothetical onto,” August admitted, “If it was the elite few? What would your answer be, Kalter?”

“If only the elite few had access,” Kalter said vehemently, “I would destroy the machine.”

August couldn’t help but believe her.

“And if it was given to everyone in society? Rich or poor, sick or healthy?” August wondered. “Gaian, and Voithos?”

Kalter considered it for a long moment.

“Maybe I would step inside if it was available to everyone,” Kalter said slowly, watching him. “But my cock wouldn’t be in my hand.”

August scratched his cheek at his words being thrown back towards him—he’d gotten a little bit carried away.