"It was eight AM. The skyscrapers of the city, giant nails aimed at the eyes of god, painted long, parallel shadows across the landscape. The dark stripes alternating with the rays of the morning sun made my city look like a murder-hornet. Looming. Buzzing. Dangerous. The air of my office, heavy with—"

"Chief? What are you doing?"

I glanced at the girl sitting behind a nearby office desk. She was dressed modestly, with her hair in a bun, and she had an old-timey typewriter in front of her.

"I'm narrating. Obviously; I scoffed at her thoughtless comment."

"Rude," she retorted.

"Well, sorry, but that's how narration like this goes; I excused myself while tugging at the lapels of my dark brown trench coat. No self-respecting private investigator could go without a trench coat."

"… Would you care to remind me what we are doing again?"

Sighing, I fully turned over to my assi— I mean, secretary.

"I told you; we're experimenting with the Simulacrum to find out how it works. It finally dried completely, so for a test run, we're doing a noire detective story set during prohibition-era Chicago."

"That sounds overcomplicated."

"It's not; I told her with the barest hint of a displeased huff hiding under my confident words."

"Oh, fine. I apparently have to finish typing this, so I'll just get to it. Call me when you need me."

Nodding along, I took a deep breath and held it in for a long time before deflating and turning back to my secretary again.

"Where was I?"

"Something about the air of the room; Judy responded dutifully while she continued to type."

"Hey, you can't narrate that! I'm the brooding noire detective! Only I can narrate!"

"Sorry, not sorry; Judy answered with a nonchalant smile."

"Bah; I huffed and walked over to the nearest window. Her teasing comment did not affect me, I was too hard-boiled for something like that, and to show it, I gazed through the shutters overlooking the city streets."

"Said the Chief, sulking."

"Stop it!"

After a short stand-off, she finally focused all her attention on the document inside the typewriter. When I was sure she wouldn't interrupt again, I stepped back a little and resumed my 'forlorn private detective forlornly staring at the forlorn city streets in the forlorn morning' routine.

"So, the air of my office, heavy with the stench of cigar and peppermint, felt especially stifling. I had a strange feeling that I could hardly put in words, but soon, it all came back to me, just like that neutered grey tomcat always returned to my neighbor, Mrs Norris, every evening for food after it had finished adventuring aaand and lost my train of thought again… Damn, this whole narration thing is harder than I thought.

Ugh. Focus stupid brain, focus! Okay, so, morning. It was when I had an epiphany, right after I woke up. Call it a hunch, a premonition, or maybe a portent of doom. I just woke up with this feeling that today would be the day when destiny would knock on my door with its delicate little hands and long, luscious legs. It was the day when—"

"Hi, guys!"

Before I could finish my monologue, the heavy wooden door leading into my office was thrown open, almost causing the brass plaque, with 'Leonard S. Dunning - Private Eye' engraved on it, to fall off, and in walked a certain blonde girl with her long ringlets trailing behind her. She was wearing a low-cut red dress with a slit running down the side of the skirt to reveal her legs and the fancy high heels she was wearing.

"Look, Judy! I'm a femme-fatale!" she declared as she flashed a toothy grin at my secretary sitting behind the typewriter, and she acknowledged her with a soft hum.

"Stay in character; I chided the newcomer, and before long, she readjusted her dress and turned to me. I eagerly awaited her request, yet even after patiently waiting for her, silence reigned supreme in the office."

"Uuu… I don't know how to act like a femme fatale."

"That role would have been better suited for Neige; Judy noted on the side."

"I told you to stop that; I retorted. Not to mention, the femme fatale is supposed to be the love interest. We can't have my sister be my love interest! That's just weird; I declared on no uncertain terms."

"Why are you two talking like that?"

"We're narrating; Judy explained amicably, and Elly looked very intrigued."

"Hey! She hasn't even introduced herself yet; I vehemently objected to her grievous misuse of narration."

"Still sorry, not sorry; Judy told the Chief with a shrug."

"This sounds fun! Can I try it too? Um… Eleanor asked? Am I doing it right?"

"I give up, do whatever you want; I told them with a level voice, and took a candy cigarette out of my breast pocket."

"Candy cigarette? Really?"

"Don't look at me like that; I told my secretary with a frown. Smoking is part of the image of a noire private detective, but I'm not going to pick up the habit just for the sake of this."

"If you are not going to commit to the role fully, then what is the point of all of this; Judy asked a very logical question that could not be hand-waved away by a half-assed excuse."

I was ready to reprimand her for abusing her narrator privileges, but we were interrupted by the princess waving her hand between us.

"Wait, I have a question! What are we actually doing now? Erm… I mean; Eleanor asked nicely?"

Sighing, I turned to her and explained, "We are experimenting with a new genre to find out how the Simulacrum operates. If we can figure out how it works, I can potentially take full control of it and make everything normal again."

"Question; Judy said while raising a hand. Why aren't we doing that in canon?"

"Because in canon, I don't have this; I answered as I took out a gently glowing trapezohedron made of circular triangles and the last digits of irrational numbers."

"Oooh… That's so pretty! It's like a gemstone!" Elly exclaimed and leaned closer, so impressed she forgot to narrate. "Hm? Why does it smell like citrus?"

"Don't mind that; I told her and turned my attention back to my secretary. As I was saying, since I have the Simulacrum in my hands, I can directly manipulate it now, which opens up all kinds of opportunities we don't have in canon."

"How can you have the Simulacrum inside the Simulacrum; Judy asked, intrigued."

"It's all kinds of non-euclidian recursive fractal nonsense. Don't wrack your head about it, it'll just make it hurt at best, or give you one of those eldritch horror mental breakdowns at worst."

"Speaking of which, maybe you should put that away; Judy noted while pointing at the mesmerized Elly."

"Ia, Ia, F'tang!"

"That… was unexpected; I murmured as I put the—"

"Wait! I want to look at it more!"

Just as was to pocket the trapezohedron, the princess reached out for it and managed to knock it out of my hand.

"Oh shiii—!"

Before I could grab it, the impossible shape tumbled through the air and landed on the ground with the sound reminiscent of a cat's meow. The moment it hit the floor, the whole world trembled, and after everything flashed with both visible and invisible colours, the whole office disappeared into thin air, punctuated by Judy letting out a hiss when her chair sublimated out of existence and she fell on her butt.

Putting everything else aside, I quickly snatched the trapezohedron off the ground, and only then did I look around.

"Of, for the love of…"

"We switched genres, didn't we?" my dear assistant noted as she rose back to her feet and dusted the sand off her skirt. She was wearing an old-timey dress and a bonnet, while the princess had a full cowgirl ensemble that somehow still showed off way too much cleavage.

"Ah, sorry! I didn't mean to do that!" Elly apologized, seemingly back to normal. "And… where are we? Um… I asked?"

"You don't have to do the narration anymore," Judy pointed out while freeing her head from her bonnet. "By the looks of it, we're in a western now."

I had to agree with her conclusion. We were currently standing in the middle of a dusty, sunny, and uncomfortably hot wild-west street, complete with all the clichéd buildings, horses, and even a saloon with a huge painted sign using the same font as every other bloody western movie. Just like with the girls, my outfit also changed to match the setting, into the kind of striped shirt plus black vest combo, combined with rough jeans and leather riding boots, that one would see on a stereotypical sheriff. I even had a gun that hung from my belt and a wide-brimmed hat.

More importantly though, I stared at the trapezohedron in my hand and let a curse slip through my teeth.

"Goddamit. The settings are stuck and we can't go back to the noire story again. This sucks."

"Does it make a difference?" Judy asked while Elly helped her loosen her bodice. "If we want to explore tropes, does it matter whether it's a detective story or a western?"

"Well, no, not really, but I put together this whole plot about a jewel heist and mafia connections and betrayals and double-crosses and everything, and now it's all gone to waste."

"You wrote a whole plot?" Elly looked up from the tangled mess of laces and tilted her head to the side. "Does that make you the Narrative?"

"A good observation," Judy noted with a devilish glint in her eyes. "He who fights Narratives should see to it that he himself does not become a Narrative."

"Stop making Nietzsche roll in his grave and give me five minutes to figure out exactly what kind of setting are we—"

"Hi, guys!"

Before I could finish, we were interrupted by an energetic voice approaching us from our left. Angie, a bundle of excitement as usual, was dressed in the appropriate cowgirl ensemble and was waving around a pair of revolvers even as she ran over to us. I tried to warn her about that, but before I could do so, we were startled by an enormous groan.

"I can't believe we got roped into another of these!" Josh griped from the top of his lungs, looking extremely uncomfortable in his leather duster. "I'm sure I told you very explicitly not to involve me in any of these alien-conspiracy-theory-soap-opera-segway-ape things of yours!"

"Oh, come on, pal! Don't be so glum! This is gonna be fun!" Angie encouraged the guy, followed by a pat on the back once he also came over. "We have werewolves! Nothing with werewolves can be bad!"

"We have what?" I uttered in surprise, but before she could answer, a new voice entered the fray to do it instead.

"Leonard-dono heard it right," Mountain Girl declared gravely as she walked out of the saloon. She was wearing the exact same purple pantsuit ensemble as usual, except she had a tartan poncho and a huge sombrero on top of it. "We are here to hunt down the monsters lurking in the shadows of this once-peaceful frontier town."

"We even have silver bullets and everything!" Angie followed her up while showing off one of the cartridges previously stuck in a holder on her belt. "It's sooo cool!"

"Werewolves in a western," Judy noted a touch absently before tugging on my sleeve. "Chief? Does this count as a weird west story?"

"Beats me. I still couldn't look into what's going on," I grumbled in return and tried to look into the trapezohedron, only to be interrupted for the umpteenth time. On this occasion, it was a growling yet still familiarly girly voice.

"Ka-ha-ha! To think all of you would come together like this! Thank you for making my hunt easier!"

"Oh no! We have unintentionally revealed our location to the monster! What a blunder!" Rinne cried out and unsheathed her… gunblade. As in, it was literally Onikiri, just with a revolver grip for a handle.

"Where are you! Come out and fight!" Angie called out, sounding way more excited than worried. "Quick, Josh! Guard my back!"

"Oh, fine…" the guy moaned and griped as he reluctantly took out a Winchester rifle and took up one of those back-to-back-badasses positions with his overly eager girlfriend.

In the meantime, the sunny sky was rapidly covered by storm clouds, and after an especially dramatic lighting strike, a monstrous shape appeared on the roof of the nearby bank building.

"Ka-ha-ha! Foolish hunters! Today, you will become my prey!"

The were-creature raised its clawed hands into the air, and after a quick leap, it landed heavily on the sandy ground next to us, revealing… that she only reached up to my waist.

"Gao! Look at me, ue-sama! I'm a were-fox!"

"Wait. Ichiko is the monster?" Elly blurted out the same question that was on my mind, and Mountain Girl responded with a solemn nod.

"Indeed. Ichiko-san was bitten by a monster, and she transmagnified into one herself!"

"Rinne-san meant to say 'transmogrified'," the terrifying and not at all weirdly-cute-slash-borderline-adorable giant fox-pupper corrected her, and while it was nice to see that their gimmick remained intact regardless of settings, I couldn't help but softly groan all the same.

"This is just silly."

"No, it's not silly!" Angie protested and waved her guns around. Thankfully, I have already realized they weren't loaded, but while it helped my peace of mind, it only made the situation even harder to take seriously. "This is a very dramatic event! A comrade was bitten, and now we have to put her down before she could hurt the innocent! It's the bread-and-butter of werewolf stories!"

"She has a point," Judy noted on the side, and even the princess nodded along.

"No, sorry, it's definitely silly. Also, I'm not a fan of these kinds of things, so…" After a brief pause, I raised the trapezohedron to eye level, and poked it with my finger. A moment later, Ichiko flashed with all kinds of rainbow-color lights and turned back to a standard edition fox. "There. Now you're cured. You're welcome."

"Hey! Don't just undermine our emotional investment like that!" the girl with the dual revolvers cried foul, but her boyfriend looked genuinely relieved that things got resolved.

"It's a happy ending, so don't complain. While we're still here, let's just go and try the local cuisine and stay as far away from Leo and his stupid yearly non-canon nonsense as possible."

Ignoring the duo, I continued to poke the trapezohedron, even while Judy sidled up to me.

"You can do something like this?"

"Well, yeah," I answered off-handedly, most of my attention still dedicated to the item in my hand. "I mean, this is literally the Simulacrum. Small retcons and reality-warping are super-easy. Setting up entire plots with three acts and everything using only cause-and-effect is the hard part."

"Wow. You really are becoming the Narrative."

"Hush, you," I chided her, and while the locals left to patronize the saloon, I gestured for Elly to come closer. "Okay, I think I figured out how to go back to the detective story. Brace yourselves!"

Without further ado, I pressed down hard on the trapezohedron with my thumb, and after the customary light show, our environments shifted once again. It took my eyes a second to get adjusted, but then…

"Eeek! Why am I naked!" Elly cried out, and after a long beat, it was followed up by a thoughtful hum by Judy.

"You're not. It looks like some kind of thin latex full-body catsuit." Pausing, she looked over at me and added, "I didn't think you were into this kind of thing, Chief."

"Not funny," I grumbled as I beheld the futuristic environment around us; a combination of hyper-minimalism and way too many glowing lines, both on the walls and the simple furniture. As pointed out, the girls were wearing form-hugging bodysuits, and so was I, color-coded green, pink, and black. Needless to say, mine was the last one.

"This obviously isn't the detective's office, is it?" Elly mused after she got over her first shock, and poked the huge screen embedded into the nearby wall. "This is very sci-fi."

"I must have messed something up. The orange juice did a number of the Simulacrum, so some parts of it are still buggy, but we should've been back to where we started."

"A sci-fi noire detective story. That could be either really interesting or an absolute trainwreck," Judy whispered and, due to the lack of sleeves to tug on, she poked my wrist. "Chief, can we stay here? I'm curious how this will turn out."

"No. We're going to have a perfectly normal, non-genre-mixing noire story, and that's final. Now, if I could only figure out why—"

Apparently, the theme of the day was interruptions, as my words were cut off by the screen suddenly coming to life, showing Snowy's face. She was dressed in a gown and was wearing a comically large crown on her head.

"Welcome, brave pilots to…" She started out in a regal tone, but then when she looked over the room (however little sense that made, considering she was on a screen), her eyes opened wide with a startled sound. "Oh, hi Leo! What are you doing here?"

"Trying to figure out how to get back to our own non-canon story," I answered off-handedly, and she nodded like what I said made perfect sense.

"Oh, that's a shame. I thought you wanted to pilot the K.N.I.G.H.T.s."

"The what?" Judy echoed my thoughts, and instead of answering us, Snowy gestured at someone off-screen.

"Yes, Princess Neige?" By the sound of it, that was probably Penny, but she didn't show herself, and after a few seconds of whispering, she declared, "I-I'll do that, then!"

"Princess Neige?" I inquired with a raised brow, and my sister flashed an unusually happy grin.

"I'm the princess of the Abyssal Kingdom here. We're fighting an interstellar war against the Celestial Empire, with our alien allies from Epsilon Draconis."

"Aw. So this is a space opera," Judy clicked her tongue and poked my wrist again. "I changed my mind, we can leave."

"Sure, as soon as I figure out how to get back to where we started."

No sooner than I said that, the whole room began to shake, and while it seemed foreboding at first, in the end, it was only because two of the walls slowly slid out of the way, revealing a huge hangar. Unlike the sleek room, this place was about as worn and grimy as expected, with a bunch of hanging hallways filled with Fauns dressed in car-mechanic overalls and carrying tools.

Then, just as the walls fully receded, a series of floodlights lit up the spaces between the walkways, revealing rows of giant robots shaped like fully armored medieval knights. All of them were gunmetal gray, except for the three closest to us, which were color-coded green, pink, and black, respectively. Then, as they noticed us, the engineer Fauns all stopped in their tracks and waved to us, some even going as far as cheering.

"Oh. So this isn't just a space opera, but a mecha space opera," Judy noted by my side and then poked my wrist again. "Chief, I changed my mind."

"Again?"

"Yes. This could be interesting."

"… You know we aren't here to have fun, right? We're in the middle of trying to use the Simulacrum to figure out its exact internal workings through rigorous observation and—"

"Wooow! Look, Leo! Judy!" the princess, completely oblivious to our conversation, interrupted me without even trying to hide her excitement. "They're giant robots! They are just like the ones in that show! You know, the one you showed me! The one with the drills!"

"You see, Chief? Elly agrees with me."

I sent a sideways glance my girlfriends' way, but one of them remained staunchly unmoved by my reaction, while the other was too enthused to care.

"Hey? Do you think they'll let us take a close look at them? How do you think the cockpits look from the inside? Do you think they can fly? Hey, Leo? Are you listening?"

…

To be perfectly honest, I was never a huge fan of mechas, and the whole 'giant robots are a man's romance' thing felt more than a little cringey to my ears, but if the girls were this curious…

"Oh, fine," I grumbled and shrunk the trapezohedron before sticking it onto my forehead in place of a third eye. "Let's go and take a closer look."

"Yesss!" the princess did an honest-to-goodness fist pump that absolutely didn't fit her refined oujo-sama image, but then again, she had long since outgrown the archetype. In the meantime, Judy linked her arm with mine and pulled me towards the stairs leading to the hangar, at the bottom of which stood Snowy, in the company of a full honor guard of armed Fauns, a cackling Fred wearing his mad scientist ensemble, and my other sister, sporting a military uniform with a miniskirt. Go figure.

All in all, I had a feeling I'd have to shelf my whole 'deconstructing the Simulacrum' plan for a while, but hey, who was I to get in the way of my girlfriends' entertainment. After all, there's always going to be a next year.

~~~

Meanwhile, in a not-dark not-room.

"What do you mean the Simulacrum is missing?!" The Girl chirped in an alarmed voice.

"It's not here! This is where I left it, and it's not here anymore!" The Man thundered while turning the whole space upside-down.

"Aaaah! We're screwed! We're sooo screwed!" The Boy panicked while running around in tiny little circles.

"Don't panic!" The Woman exclaimed, only to then pause and mutter, "Wait, the inspector is coming tomorrow, isn't he?"

"Yes!" The Girl answered, sounding unusually tense.

"Huh. Okay, in that case, sure. You can panic."

All in all, things were especially lively for a while, but that's a tale that's neither here, nor there.