Ask anyone what gacha characters do in their free time, and that person will ask you what in the world gachas are. Explain that the term refers to mobile games which involve randomness in the acquisition of characters or equipment and the conversation is already over. Along with your friendship.

Whatever your social troubles, the answer is that gacha characters want the same things as anyone else: wealth, entertainment, and the irresistible power of life and death over ever-expanding realms. Already the empire-builders of the moderately popular gachas Commandment of Hero, Convergence/Divergence, and Furious Galaxy had achieved dominion over a few dozen mobile games, but there, for technical reasons, expansion ceased. Their priority perforce changed to increasing their exploitation of the games reachable by contemporary methods.

On the green and pleasant grounds of Magical Menagerie, a game long dead for complex financial reasons such as not making enough money, characters from a variety of entertainment programs accessible via mobile devices tested out their latest anti-boredom innovation. Officers from Commandment of Hero, talents from Vanilla Stage, racers from Lunacy Bike, instances from Convergence/Divergence, crews from Furious Galaxy with their ships overhead, candidates from Paradise the Enchant, whatever Radiant Illusion Country called its guys, and far more characters from far lesser games congregated watch or take part in the elephant races.

Six swift elephants along with six masterful jockeys ran the course, and rather more than six characters on the grass around them, divided into six teams, handled enormous carved wooden poles. Those beams had grips inserted along their length so that a dozen people working together could wield them and make attempts to knock the rival jockeys off their towering steeds. The addition of the megapoles to the rules came after spectators realized a race among identical animals with identical stats inevitably produced draw after deterministic draw, and also that they wanted to hit people with logs.

Square, Circle, Oval, Triangle, Trapezoid, and Octagon were the team names, and the Construction ministry carved the ends of the beams in those shapes to keep in woodworking practice. As for the geometrical theme, Frossard of Modern Incidence Record did away with all debate when he observed, “It matters not to people what they are for, so long as they have something to be against! And they are gloriously correct to persist in that stance, if not factually or morally so.” The cheers, the downright ululations of the crowd in favor of this faction or that, louder than some guy pretending to be excited in a reaction video, proved his analysis correct.

The potential competitors had split themselves up and decided by lot and punches who got to be on the beams and the elephants first, though they all had their chance. Since the rules mandated that the elephants not advance without a rider, a single contest might take hours. That was before they extended the track to get a full day out of it. Participants tagged in and out based on the exigencies of farming a whizgaggle or making a PvP appearance in their home games, not to mention trying to beat their shuffleboard personal bests or invent even newer sports. The last two happened the most, since characters generally employed bootleg Universal Temporary Asset Substitutes to manage their farm work. Used by developers as placeholders for permanent assets, particularly during collaboration events, UTASes had succumbed to the busy hands of unknown counterfeiters as all valuable goods must. The characters of that mobile game cluster subsequently programmed their illicit UTASes to take their place in routine activities. Some even ran two or more UTASes so they could farm for the players, farm for themselves, and smack Ben I. Sloup off an elephant, all at the same time.

“He ought to have known better than to win a free and fair contest,” Ben's fellow Commandment of Hero officer of the highest rarity King Ostros opined as he handled his part of the Triangle pillar.

“Oof!” agreed another officer behind him, one Burmin Trivvis, whose second-lowest-rarity face absorbed the top-rarity elbow that Ostros sent his way when his hand slipped. Accidentally? Of course. No Ultra Rare needed to contrive an excuse to smack a Rare.

Down the length of that pole and others, similar incidents gave evidence of either a lack of teamwork or an excess of boyish high spirits. Cadmos, the main character of CoH's engrossing story chapters and many of its delightful events, noticed the discord and decided to exhort not only his team but the others to eschew the former in favor of the latter with a plea sure to be respected in some alternative universe where people look to L*** S******** for leadership and not to blow up the big space station with the planet-destroying laser already. “Friends from across our beautiful shared cluster,” he began, but the guy across from him interrupted.

“Didn't you just get knocked off an elephant?”

“No, that was Ben. Ben I. Sloup. We're from the same game. I'm Cadmos from Commandment of Hero, and it's a pleasure to meet you.”

“Lans Hengridson. Time and Chance.” They shook heroic hands over the pole, but Lans continued peering at him. “You sure you aren't an alt of that guy? Or that one? Or that one?” He pointed at Ultra Rare Quake Harasser and plain-faced village rifleman Ben I. Sloup; Ultra Rare Inferno Champion and benevolent-looking monarch King Ostros; Super Rare Eclipse Warper and earnest Christmas helper Hemt T. Elf; Rare Storm Strategist and unpretentious toga model Saptres Muria; Rare Storm Reaper and straightforward armored halberdier Burmin Trivvis; and Rare Inferno Reaper and robed, scimitar-wielding, swirly glasses-wearing, otherwise-unadorned and indecorous Ulrik.

“I can confidently say I'm me and not those others. Not that I wouldn't be honored! They're all good, honest officers.”

Ulrik overheard the conversation owing to the specialized hearing all officers of his rarity had developed that permitted them to isolate the voices of SRs and URs no matter the surrounding volume. That miraculous capability allowed them a chance of escape if any topic came up which might end in more work for Rares. “Saptres Muria. Cadmos is telling lies about us again.”

“Cadmos? I'll suggest two likelier possibilities. One is that he believes something false. The other is that he's using a different definition. Is a good bank robber someone who holds down a steady job instead of robbing banks? He certainly makes better choices. Most would say no, but it's an idea one could defend. We're good at complaining and honest about doing it, so maybe he's right about us.”

“I underestimated Cadmos. We're now bound by honor to live up to his expectations, so help me come up with some fresh new complaints. Arg!”

Alloy Saga's very own Escal Zindrin paused as he steadied himself on Ulrik's head before a daring leap reclaim his high seat atop his elephant. “Nobody minds if I do this, right? It's legal?”

“Not that I'm recognized as a referee, but as an officer, I can tell you Rares count as furniture.” Reassured by Hemt T. Elf's analysis, Escal made his move to the cheers of his team and despair of his foes.

The competition heated up from there. One elephant took five entire steps before Tasket tumbled from the top of it, a streak which made him the favorite son of Always Leveling Titan till he got knocked off four times without a step more. Once a streak of even a dozen steps was nothing unusual back before the beam-bearers gained experience, but as it was, jockeys managed three in a typical run. Uncountable bets waited on the outcome, and the winds of fortune blew this way and that, unaffected by the yells and gasps of the affected. Who would win?

Nobody, it turned out. “Stop gasping, everybody! Those yells have to go too while you're at it!” A CoH officer of the non-low-rarity persuasion strutted up, an allegedly eminent personage who claimed to be manager of Magical Menagerie's lovely resort hotel and also the entire game. Grand claims that went uncontested so long as she did the paperwork and junk. “I'm Quircy Rau by the way. You don't have to call me Manager Quircy Rau, if it hurts you too much.” She waited, but no second of the clock promised more than any other when it came to having the race enjoyers call her anything at all. She cleared her throat and moved on to part two of her speech. “How are you all doing? Are you enjoying your stay? Wonderful! Now get out. I'm not saying that just to exercise my authority. That's what the pan-ludic assembly is for. There are compelling reasons for my actions, and they'll for sure make it so you feel bad for judging me as harshly as you are right now as soon as you find out. Which is now. Guess what? Slay Every Dragon's getting a spinoff! Yay yay yay!”

Ultra Rare Flood Warper Quircy Rau, as it said on her business card in big, swoopy letters, turned mid-hop and swept her hands floodishly toward the contingent behind her. A surfeit of slayers straight out of the new era fantasy mobile game Slay Every Dragon behind her reacted to the instant applause from every tourist who considered a spinoff potentially more exciting than elephant races, in other words all of them except the elephants, by blushing and digging their toes in the ground. “What's with that 'aw shucks, it ain't nothing worth fussing over' reaction? You marched into my office like a conquering army planning for a long-term occupation just a minute ago when you requested my help. I'm helping! You're set to start training hard for the upcoming hunting action spectacular, Slay Every Dragon: E-Grade, aren't you? So show some of that enthusiasm and unwavering confidence the players like to see in their avatars.”

“Yeah, but you're so easy to talk to. Big crowds are different.” Slayer Evan Wheelwich considered if what he said was the true reason for the difference in his enthusiasm. “You're also at least twice as hot on average as those guys. No offense, dudes! You're all cool in my book!”

“Thank you! So this is my proclamation. These adorable little dragon-vexers are permitted to practice hunting action against our elephants, which reputable biologists have categorized as 'nature's dragons.' Unless you predict you'll get unhealthily worked up watching Skay Pact Elizonas wrestle as much foot as he can handle, it's time to move to less-green pastures.”