“So, asshat. Who is this superior of yours?”

Sarah reveled in the first bit of leverage she has had in a long time. The man before her sat awkwardly, forced to provide answers if he wanted to continue this mission given to him by… something.

“They are a Metatron for The Second Sun.” He almost appeared fearful, adjusting the tie around his neck. “I am unable to provide their name, but they wield the might of powers beyond our imagination.”

“Uh huh…” Where have I heard those terms before?

“Good work so far. Okay, so…” Sarah sat back, her mind swirling with so many questions in so little time. Some questions were necessary, but ones she was not sure she really wanted the answers to. She held her arms closer to her, afraid she could smell herself.

“So, tell me about your home world. If I’m fighting a war, I need to know what I’m fighting for, right?”

“Quite understandable, I can tell your associate has been unable to explain the finer details of the commitment you have made.” He relaxed a bit more, causing Sarah to do the opposite.

Commitment?

“The realm we come from is less terrestrial like the space we currently occupy. It is hard to describe through a limited communication such as language, but I will try.” He cleared his throat, as the order for steaming fresh blueberry muffins was delivered before them, coupled with equally warm mugs of coffee. “I specifically am an operative within the ‘Regime of the Second Sun’, a powerful force that currently occupies the skies above the land of what most call ‘Ul’dana’. A land of many convergences and an ever changing landscape.”

“That’s not terribly descriptive…” Crumbs landed on the table in front of Sarah, freshly ejected from her mouth.

“As I have said, it is hard to impart the finer details of the setting.” He took much more daintier bites, wiping his mouth before continuing, “In short, there are 6 major factions vying for power within the World Game: Stiltburgh, a singular city with a people that resemble you humans. They are the last remaining splinter, too stubborn and miniscule to deal with.”

He, once again, showed a modicum of emotion with that last sentence.

Sounds like it’s personal… Six factions, six types of cards in the card game...

“There is Academia Rex, multiple civilizations both below the depths of the ocean and high above the clouds on a singular mountain that arises from the water. Their people harbors strange magics and are what I would consider the second strongest military force within the realm.”

“Following that would be us, ‘The Regime of the Second Sun.’” He appeared proud when saying the name once more, his normally unblinking eyes alight with a strange fervor. “We are the true rulers of the land, taking what is rightfully ours all under the light of The Second Sun.”

Sitting up, Sarah scratched her back, “You keep saying that like it’s a big deal, this Second Sun, ooooh.” She wiggled her fingers for emphasis.

“It is a being of immense wisdom. Us and our chosen have bore witness to many miracles and have conquered many realms before under it’s sacred light.” His face grew alight once more, reverant over what was best described as just a hot ball of plasma.

Man, this guy is ALSO a religious nutjob?

“There are also the creatures that we seek to destroy. Those that only hide beneath the land, festering within their holes and shy away from the might of our just and righteous path. These troglodytes only hold onto the histories of past worlds and do nothing but writhe and recoil in their disgusting cradles. These-”

“I get it, I get it. They suck.” Sarah leaned in her chair, almost slipping twice while listening to Philip’s hit piece on what she guessed was the ‘Heathen’ type of cards. “And then there’s the last civilization, right?”

Adjusting his hair, and taking a sip of the black coffee, he never once blinked. “I would call them less of a ‘civilization’ and more of a miscellaneum of creatures that share the same environment. In the northmost part of the world is what the native creatures call ‘The Origin of Storms’. We can deduce that a majority of the weather patterns of the world form in this superstructure. The Tundrafolk claim there are 7 storms within this impenetrable column of clouds, each more strange than the last. The only way to traverse towards what they claim to be boundless treasures is on foot through each layer.”

“Holy fuck, that’s kinda rad…” Sarah mumbled to herself, finishing off her fourth cup of joe.

“That would be two questions, Ms. Weatherford. Would you mind if I ask one of my own to break up the flow of the conversation?”

“Uh, sure.” The clumsy girl tried refilling Sarah’s mug once more, getting more on the floor than actually in the cup.

“Very good.” He crossed his arms and actually appeared pensive. “Would you mind explaining to me why Weatherford Financial Incorporated is nearly abandoned on what is deemed as ‘Sunday’? I have had to break the glass doors that would not open for me to reach my workstation twice already. The man assigned as my superior has told me nobody arrives to complete our objectives on that day in particular.”

“Uh…” Nearly a roll of loose paper towels was used to clean up the spilled coffee, as the girl was on the verge of tears. “Bro, people need to take breaks from work. Most people have other things going on in their lives than just their jobs. Like, have you heard of these things called ‘weekends’?

“Yes. My superior explained that I must take time off every week. I am unsure as to why though…”

“Anyways, I let you cheat and ask a question in the middle of your interrogation. Back to the task at hand, freakazoid.” Clapping her hands in front of his face to both get his attention and actually see him blink once, she only got the former. “Alright, last question: what is the objective of this ‘World Game?’”

Now it was Phillip’s turn to lean back, eyes darting back and forward like what could be construed as calculating. “It is to see who will win the realm of Ul’dana.”

“Win the realm?”

“Yes. The creatures of the plane resist extinction efforts made by ourselves and betwixt each other, so the Great Powers deigned that another solution must occur. Thus, one hundred representatives from any point within the plane’s history converged within a singular space, defined the win state of the competition and sent to this realm to participate.”

“Uh huh…” Sarah fought back the mountains of questions and headaches building as he spoke, “So what is the ‘win state’ then?”

“To be brief, our beings must be contained within these cardboard vessels.” Holding up a ‘Miracle’ card produced from one of his many suit pockets, he continued, “When participating in the competition designed around these vessels, we must defeat our adversary wielded by a being in opposition to us. After winning a game and having the opposing creature’s vessel in what the game designers call ‘The Graveyard’, we are forcefully returned back to our point in history on our plane.”

Sarah polished off another mug of coffee, “That doesn’t seem too bad, it’s kinda-”

“And the one wielding the losing creature’s card’s life will end.”

Silence.

“Wait.”

More silence.

“So you’re saying I can FUCKING DIE by losing a card game?!”

“Yes, but only by another ACE card user and with your own being in the Graveyard during your loss.” He calmly took another sip of coffee before placing it back down. “How do you enjoy this bile, it’s-”

“Hold the fuck up! So, you’re saying if I have Carbuncle in the grave and fuckin’ get hit after my shields are gone, he gets to fucking go home and I just fucking croak?”

“I’ve already answered this question: after winning a game-”

“I know! But that’s so fucking stupid!” Sarah tried her best not to yell in the crowded restaurant, but some people already began to stare. “I’m beginning to have second thoughts about all this…”

Philip took on a proud smile, “Well, as long as you have not bonded to your ACE monster, you should be able to opt out of participation.”

“Oh. Okay… How do I know if I am bonded or not?”

He tried yet another sip of the coffee, determined to like it. “Simply winning a game against any person is enough to bond you to the creature.”

Fuck.

“Fuck.”

“It appears you already have.” Another sip was had unsatisfactorily, “Though from what I saw, your bond has not reached the point of manifestation. At this stage, the creature and wielder begin to influence each other, sometimes physically, more often mentally, such as I have with my host.”

“So you’re saying you’ve already bonded with your wielder as well?” Sarah asked, face on the table in a sign of resignation.

“Why no, I have not. My goal is to inform and aid my superior. Discretion is the optimal approach in doing so.”

With a deep sigh, Sarah lifted herself up onto her elbows and looked at the strange man sitting across from her. Her mind weighed heavily as the situation around this intergalactic war only grew in intensity. What did I fuckin’ expect? Aliens don’t just come from another world to play a card game for funsies…

“So what will Carbuncle do to me when he ‘manifests’?” The conversation was drawing to a close. Truths far beyond what she was afraid of came to light, causing a feeling of sinking into despair. Not only was she being punished by her father, taking everything she owned, she was now drafted into a war for another world that could rob her of one of the few things she had left: her life.

“I am unsure. Different creatures manifest in different ways and through different methods. Most assuredly, the key is in the card game.” Taking one last sip before pushing the mug forward, he sighed, “Now, I believe I get to ask my questions?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Not even a gallon of coffee would help Sarah get rid of the headache she had.

“Excellent. I have seen the person you were with when we met yesterday while I was completing tasks at work today. She appeared to be of an even higher stature than my superiors and tried not to be seen while hiding around corners and behind chairs. Judging by how you said your father owns the place of my employment, it is not a hard guess to assume she is of some relation to you?”

With the bridge of her nose between her finger and thumb, she still stopped to take a moment to look at the man before her. “What the fuck are you planning on doing to my little sister?”

“Nothing malicious. I only wish to emulate her station as to reach the level of success required of my host.” He held up his hands defensively, a trait that was definitely learned in some way.

“Well, I’ve answered that question for you.” She went back to nursing what felt like a hangover, except replacing the alcohol with literal world shattering news.

“Yes you have.” He fixed his jacket, wiping off any stray hair and dust that may have gathered on the black coat. “Now, one last question.”

He paused for a moment. “Will you be my wife?”

Silence again.

“I’m sorry, what the fu-”

“I asked you if you could be my wife? My host’s definition of ‘success’ is to obtain a ‘fuckin’ respectable position that makes a shit ton of money’ and ‘have a hot fuckin’ bangin’ wife’.” Phillip maintained a straight face, unflinching through the audacity of it all.

“No! Fuck no!” Sarah’s headache only got worse.

“Why not? You are the only other person aware of my existence, making thi-”

“Fuck. No. You’re, like, fuckin’ 40!”

“Incorrect. Phillip Turner is approximately 37 ye-”

“Fucking f-o-r-t-y.” She got in his face to emphasize the point. “Never ask me that question again, got it? And that goes double for my sister, fuck-face.”

“I am unsure of what I have done to cause this aggression, but I relent. I will not ask again.”

“Good.” She took her seat again, the cafe actually silent. Slowly it came back to life, somewhat disappointed and awkwardly whispering about how the guy got rejected on his marriage proposal. “You owe me another fuckin’ question for that one, dipshit.”

“If that will absolve my supposed iniquity, then by all means.”

“Since you’re hiding from, if I remember right, 98 other ACE card users, I better keep my mouth shut, right?” Sarah let loose her most malicious grin, “If I get to the point where I am dying, you better fucking believe I will squeal every last detail about you.”

His eyes grew wide.

“Of course, that’s only on the condition I am actually losing. If it were harder to lose, then you can rest assured your topic would never come up. But do you know the best way to ensure I don’t lose? By having better cards.” She held out her hand, “Give me some money to better equip myself, and you’ll never have ACE monsters stopping you from accomplishing both of your goals, capische?”

He looked down at her hand and then at her broad smile.

“A less than fair trade. But necessary given the parameters. Regardless, I am still not entirely sure to what end your currency can accomplish towards my endeavors.” Without so much as a shrug, he pulled out his wallet and produced fifteen hundred dollar bills.

“What, do they only pay you in cash?” Sarah took the notes and stuffed them in her bag. “How fucking archaic.”

“Yes, I am unsure how those devices you all carry work. I was informed this was compensation for my contributions towards Weatherford Financial Incorporated. I will provide more after I go through the highly coveted ‘payday’ once more to ensure my identity is secure.”

“Sure, sure. I’ll be sure to keep my yap shut and to win against a whole mess of ACE card users.”

Where there once was a low roar of discussion and conversation in the coffee shop was replaced with near silence. The sultry Christmas songs still swooned throughout the warm wooden interior, but were now the prominent sound profile. With most of their finals done, the students fled the college and surrounding area and returned home to their parents, probably doing their laundry for the first time since they left.

Even Rebecca stopped coming in, spending most of her time either preparing for the next semester or working at the company. Such is the life of an heiress…

Instead of her usual place, face testing the sturdiness of the glass counter, Sarah rested her nose in the glowing glass of her phone. Ads for Mars vacations, make-up and designer clothes took up most of the screen, a remnant of what felt like a lifetime ago. News articles regarding something about a president kept interfering with her search were quickly brushed aside. With it being almost an election year, this was to be expected.

The money she extorted from Phillip burned in her bag. Compared to her old life, this money was massive. Not counting typical expenses, it was the equivalent of 100 hours or about five weeks of dealing with old people explaining what the Super Bowl was or how the Mars colony is just a front for the aliens running the government to go home.

With only one blister pack box reservation per person organized through Manufacturing Mirages, some research about the set list and prices was needed to be had. As expected, scalpers sold their reservations for insane prices and the handful of cards that were already known were selling for up to $300 a card.

Carbuncle sat beside her on the counter, still unaware of the conversation she had with Phillip the day prior. With the occasional stroll around the shop, the ephemeral creature seemed to have an abundance of patience, sitting beside her and waiting patiently alongside her for the end of the day where they will pick up their box of Ascendants of the Apocalyptic Adventure at The Card Cashe.

“Fuck. Man, I’m getting nervous! What if I don’t pull anything good?” Sarah ran her fingers through her bangs, “The best thing I’ve pulled since starting was that Lucky Cricket, but I never even use Behemoth cards.”

“Squeak!”

“Aside from you.” She delicately touched Carbuncle’s nose, getting better at not passing through the creature, “Besides, I need to pull the right Strike Leader to actually use you. That could be a pain, considering some of the rarities of these cards.”

She scrolled through the list until she landed on the right one, “See? I’m gonna need to pull either a card called ‘Lebok, Platinum Compass Bearer’ to use all my good cards or this ‘Arch-Knight Inoth’ to use all my cards. And these are just the names and civilizations, this list doesn’t have their effects, costs, or attack points.”

Lebok only allowed the user to use both Noble and Behemoth cards, letting Sarah keep cards like Sunlifter and Scrapper. Inoth, on the other hand, enables the usage of Noble, Behemoth, and Miracle cards, encompassing her deck’s current flavor. Obviously, with a wider range of typing, there has to be some form of drawback. Balance was one of those things that had to be meticulously worked into something as many variables as a card game. She did not envy the designers at all.

“SARAH, YOU CAN GO HOME NOW! I NEED TO SEE YOU IN MY OFFICE IMMEDIATELY, KYLE!”

Walking by and waving to an overeager Kyle as she left out the door, she snickered. They’re totally fucking.

The sun hovered in the sky bright red. A searing ball of rage, it reminded her of the visions from the other world. The buildings stretched out before her, a series of spires that reached as far as the horizon would allow. As she waited on the couch overlooking the skyline, she counted exactly 99 points where the light reflected from the windows.

All the fake stars unknowingly enjoying their short time being created by the only real one.

Her long black bangs helped block the light from staring directly into the sun, another use from blocking out most of the world around her.

“My queen.” A figure emanated beside her, emerging from a flash of blue, “I have finished negotiations. We have accomplished much this day.”

“I’ve told you a thousand times, Hermes, please don’t call me your ‘queen’. It makes you sound like a simp, which is a bad thing.”

The formless being bowed in supplication, undulating and shifting to nothing in particular, “I apologise, I am just in awe of your talents. Without you, none of this could have happened.”

In truth, it was something she had to do. If she never intervened the way she did, millions would have died. But even more would perish if she did not continue. “The World Game is corrupt. We need to do all we can to end it by any means necessary.”

“Of course. The Great Powers have overstepped their bounds. We must overthro-”

“Ugh. Save your fedora tipping for someone who cares.” The girl impatiently pulled at one of the split-ends caused by the altitude.

“But my quee-” Despite being made of pure energy, Hermes awkwardly adjusted himself, “My partner, this has nothing to do with human headwear and everything to do with what we have set out to accomplish.”

“I know, I know.” She stood, her red and gold eyes matching the last lights of the sun as it stretched through the unfamiliar land, “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, we are going to unite the world and end the World Game.”

Arc 1: End