A bunch of stock haircuts on default heads shook in confusion or whipped around to look for some external cause behind the odd feeling. “Uh, well, anyway, we want to change Eclipse Overflow to not be a projectile and make everything take longer, right?”

“I haven't agreed to that, Burmin. Won't that just make me hated?”

“Oh, Cadmos. Cadmos, Cadmos, Cadmos.” Ulrik shook his head some more, but not in confusion.

“He doesn't understand, does he, Hemt?”

“Not even a little bit, Ostros Perandra Mark II. Do you think he gets it, Solemn Declaration?”

“I do not, Hemt Holiday Edition. What's your opinion, Saptres Muria?”

“In his naive main-characterness, he has misunderstood the less-noble heart of the common man, Solemn Declaration. What's your interpretation, Burmin Trivvis?”

“It's maybe a compliment to him that he doesn't get it, Saptres, but it seems to me we do have to get on with it. Don't we, Ben I. Sloup?”

“We do. Here's the political reality, Cadmos. It's better to be feared than loved and better to be loved than hated. Machiavelli says so. He forgets to mention that it's better to be hated than ignored. You're in that last category. Ideally we would crank you up two notches, but one is more realistic.”

“I don't know what to say, guys. You've all put a lot of careful thought into this, at some point, without me around, which I think is strange, but I guess you know what you're doing. What do I do next?”

“That much is obvious.” Ulrik pulled out a Complete Orb of Mastery salvaged from the remains of the lamented Cadmos Dome. “You'll pose with this when you use Eclipse Overflow.”

“I said this back when we still had trouble concentrating, but my Nova was changed to—”

“Get in.” Solemn Declaration wheeled in the time machine he had rescued from the devastation of that greatly mourned edifice, the Cadmos Dome. “I will set it to a time before that unfortunate story development.”

Team Generic piled in the machine with the exception of Solemn Declaration. He stayed behind both to operate it and to be a centaur not trying to fit inside a time travel chamber with seven other dudes. As the blinky lights activated, unseen motors whirred, and reality itself seemed to fray around them, Saptres Muria noted, “It's a shame time machines have no other practical use.”

“It is,” the others agreed. And then they were gone. And back also, because of the time travel.

“Wow! What an adventure!” Burmin Trivvis stumbled forward, barely able to walk after all those exhausting but memorable experiences.

The others followed him, with Hemt striding with a bounce in his step as if he had finally learned to give life's annoyances no more than their due and enjoy the world's greater part. Saptres came out last with slow, ponderous steps, not to mention a wistful look in his eye.

“I'd forgotten how much more enthusiasm there was back then. We talked about events and thought we'd be in them. The reason, I suppose, is how little precedent for anything there was. Now we imagine we know how everything works and grumble if we're ever proved wrong.”

“You're right about that,” King Ostros said. “Back when elements still existed because Eclipse was the unique attribute of an unexceptional officer.”

“URs had green gear. And were excited about it! I'm still excited! Aaaaaah!” Ulrik took off running around the room, and the walls he passed knew his dreams, inscribed as they were by a flashing scimitar.

“Pure soul,” Burmin Trivvis said, and that summed it up.

“All right, all right. The past was great, but the future can be even better if we all work together. I'm counting on all of you to tell me what to do now that I've mastered the Static Eclipse Overflow.”

“What a lack of initiative in our main character! That's not unusual, of course, but I wanted to point it out before we are forced to reveal our expertise when it comes to dilly-dallying.”

“That's very considerate of you, King Ostros, but am I mistaken in thinking you were staring at us three Rares the entire time you spoke?” Saptres Muria asked.

“We've been through too much together for me to take pleasure in correcting you.”

“I'll share a few secrets of wasting time, then. The best way I can see for a fighter to run out the clock is long combos with low damage. How to achieve that is something beyond normal Rare operations.”

“Rare Number Two?” King Ostros pointed at Burmin Trivvis.

“Air combos, right? That's the best way. First you need moves that, uh, what do they call those? That send enemies up off the ground?”

“Up-boys.”

“Skyrisers.”

“Catapulters.”

“Heighteners.”

“Blow-em-ups.”

“No, that's what they call games like that Mars one with all the building physics. R** F******: G*******. Not so much the sequel though.”

“Poppers.”

“Fling-flicks.”

The chorus of suggestions prevented them from hearing the pounding sound that came closer and closer. The front door of the bungalow fling-flicked open, and who was the cause? Wruden Calx and his battering pick, of course. “The word is 'launcher.' How much time will you expend on this meeting? There's waste, and then there's this.”

“I think we're done, since you helped us out with the terminology. Later, Wruden!” Cadmos and the lads ran out of the bungalow with a fire in their hearts, a goal on the horizon, and a bunch of surveillance equipment in their clubhouse.

“Fwoosh! Here comes the TrupinL plane! It's ahead of schedule and everything. I'm expecting another roster update for the Command game any day now, which got me looking back over the footage we have. I still don't get what happened to Bel. Wasn't he a wizard, like a stand-in-the-back-pew-pew nuker guy? Here he is dragon-punching all over the stage like he's the hero. Now, Theena turned out exactly how I figured she would, and it's refreshing to watch, like a spring breeze. Still waiting on Beryllia though. C'mon devs, you know what we want!”