The passengers took their seats, or at least they would have if FG happened in caveman times. Rather than that, they stood against vertical space-age cushions and adjusted their restraints except that they did not on account of their modern or fantasy backgrounds. Forward-lookers such as Sindze U. Radalo instructed as many of their neighbors in the procedure as they were able, but quite a few fortunates were in for a fun time.

“Bu dum dum dah. Ladies and gentlemen, the train is now departing. If you have not taken the recommended safety precautions, it is now far too late. Please pray if you believe in that sort of thing. Bu dum dum dah.” After that announcement over the speakers, delivered by an immaculate professional who did her own sound effects, the helixtrain shot off with a shuddering noise that might have been caused by a sonic boom or perhaps a few dozen bodies being converted from solid matter into liquid. The less-affected occupants, meanwhile, relaxed to enjoy their journey. Those near the windows attempted to turn their heads against the contrary inclination of their restraints.

“Bu dum dum dah. Ladies and gentlemen, please refrain from turning your heads. They might come off. In addition, the artists have not drawn anything in this region of this planet. There is nothing to see except secret projects. Photography is forbidden. Thank you for your understanding. Bu dum dum dah.”

“Why did they put in windows then?” Mere physical impediments did nothing to chain the powerful, ever-searching mind of Convergence/Divergence's DelveR.

“Visual impact,” responded an indescribably cool guy wearing sunglasses and aiming a camera at a cadre of seven lads not a bit inferior to him in style. Regrettable circumstances prevented DelveR from seeing how swell they looked, and therefore he doubted their qualifications to make an aesthetically grounded explanation.

No better one came before the train jerked to a stop again. “Bu dum dum dah. Please extricate yourself from the restraints. If you are capable of doing so, please roll those who are not out onto the platform. Let's work together to keep the helixtrain free of obstructions. Bu dum dum dah.”

Conscious of the weight of a guest's responsibilities, the outsiders followed those instructions exactly. They disembarked in an orderly if unsightly manner and paused to stretch, check for injuries, treat said injuries, and look out over the Multiplayer Online Battle Arena Neutral Testing Zone, or MOBANTZ for short. Multiple fields had been roped off to increase testing efficiency. In each, two ships faced each other from distant corners. Three clear paths permitted intercourse between them if the ships wished to walk, which they did not, for multiple reasons. Between those lanes sprawled the jungle which Construction had fashioned out of mounds of bent and twisted metal. The Furious Galaxy denizens requested that it look like a ship graveyard after they squinted at blurry footage for several hours straight. The debris they thought they saw may have just been artifacting, but they could adjust it later, they figured.

“We can't wait for perfection!” What stirring words Shef Donovan employed to explain the situation to the off-world volunteers. “For instance, it looks like the role of the ancient or core or whatever will end up played by command-and-control ships, but we're using what we've got. Monitors, Haetaes, Perseuses, anything available. We have to figure this all out as we go, mind, but there's a lot of explanatory material out there about this particular genre. We think it would still be a good idea to get some hands-on experience. Some of you will be assigned to the very public, very heroic duty of marching down those roads and being shot at by missile turrets. You're the ones I envy. We'll also assign some of you to lurk in the uncleared areas, or jungle it's called, where you can give our wanderers a bit of a scare. Supposedly there's reasons to go in there. Our researchers are still working on that. After a few matches, you'll switch places so the hidden can come into the light. Give it enough time and we'll try swapping some of you into the main roles and see how it goes.”

“We aren't doing that, Shef,” Rachel Donovan yelled over from a cluster of tables covered by tables in a different sense along with charts, graphs, and lists.

“Sure we aren't, Rach.” Shef winked at the newcomers. “Come on over for processing, and thanks for showing up.”

Soon characters filed along the clear lanes in time to a drumbeat provided by speakers placed all along the route. Each marcher held up an electronic display that updated his pretend health status in real time as defensive towers hugged by Helmut Kreuzfabers and Elmiras vexed them with explosions. The creep actors ran off the side when their simulated HP reached zero and circled back to the start, ushered by UTASes assigned to point the right way. An illusory battlefield, except for the part where the missiles were real.

“We looked into getting fakes, but have you seen the prices on those? It's harder not to kill someone these days. 'Life is cheap' isn't just a saying around here. The towers are unupgraded, but consult with your physician to see if being exploded is right for you.” Shef Donovan fielded questions from the volunteers during breaks which included complete catering in the form of futuristic nutritional mush.

Stanley Sten Stonell raised his hand. When called upon, he poked his mush with a spoon and asked, “Is the setting of Furious Galaxy some kind of dehumanizing dystopia? I was under the impression Convergence/Divergence stood apart in its unpleasantness.”

“Great question. There's plenty of fanciness going on in the background, balls and soirées, but we're all military. It's sort of a localized dystopia. Any more questions? Then go out there and get knocked dead!”

The testing fields changed between every match as part of the locals' data-driven approach to spinoff preparation. The pace of the drumbeat, the shape of the paths, the firing rate of the turrets, and more all underwent adjustment as experts downloaded and played whatever D****** o* t** A****** clones they could find. The novelty transformed what might have been endless marches toward repetitive defeat for the outside helpers into that same thing but with novel sights for them to enjoy along the way.

Such as when Angelina Segretti ran out of the wreckage, screaming and waving her arms as if to signal her distress to the very weather stations orbiting the planet. “I have a complaint. An unbeatable enemy has been placed in the danger area.”

“She sounds a lot less flapped than she looks,” Nautical Wedding Manyana commented to the crewman attacking her.

“She has hidden strength. Much like you. Yeesh. I was told to ensure I get the killing blow on as many creeps as possible to collect resources. It sounded easy back then.” diBior shot her again. “Holes and horizons! Die already!”

“Then kill me, noodle arms!”

The closest speaker dropped its drumbeat, crackled, and spoke. “Segretti. What is meant by 'unbeatable enemy?' Is it immune to damage? Statted in an excess of exuberance? Please clarify.”

“Negative. It's too adorable.”

A koala broke out of the jungle in pursuit of Angelina Segretti, who yelped and resumed her wild retreat. “I hope the final product isn't a disappointment compared to this,” diBior said.

“Bippety bopcha, what's new in gacha, but who cares about gacha anymore? Not publishers, that's for sure. I'm gonna be the last one still doing this! Does this mean the gacha model is done for, dying, defunct? That's what I wanted to put in the thumbnail, but there were two problems with that. The second is honesty, and the first is that I happened to look at some numbers and it turns out most of these games are doing a terrible job of trending downward in revenue. So much for my clickbait.

“All that's to say there's another one. I know, I hope you don't know it, but you probably know it, that Furious Galaxy: The Controversy Over Rotbart was announced, and not as a turn-based, space-based, RNG-based RPG. No, it's one of those laning, last-hitting, level-increasing, equipment-buying, let's everybody meet in the middle so my team can lose sort of games. They're pretty popular, but how many have spaceships? No kidding? Never mind that.

“I'm not an expert in MOBAs, unlike in every other genre, and I'm even less of an expert in zooming and enhancing, but it looks to me like your bases can move in some of this footage. Is that enough to put this game over the top in a crowded field? Is it even true? I'm not going to give the first answers I came up with because I see myself as a positive person. That's why I now think this might be a way to shorten up the battles that was adopted from the battle royale genre. Adding some time pressure, getting us those losses faster. That's an interesting idea I just came up with, right? Now I'm excited. I'll keep an eye on it, and you keep an eye on me, and Like, and subscribe, and comment, and write your congressman if he's looking for a channel that covers a wide variety of mobile games. All right?”