Though it felt like he had just returned, Vahn was already beginning to get a little fed up with the Hidden Floor. His whole reason for visiting was to confront a version of Jahad directly and see how much the man had changed over the years; so, before things got further out of control, he decided to pay a visit to the ‘Palace of Spears’, the primary residence of Data Eduan and the children he had allowed to live with him.
Not expecting Vahn back any time soon, Eduan had left to wrap up a few loose ends prior to his departure from the Hidden Floor. As a result, the person to greet Vahn was the masked Icardi, a unique individual who had the ability to materialized physical objects, including various mythical items, through spoken word. This was an unbelievably rare talent, but, as it required the person to continue chanting just to maintain the object’s integrity, it was most useful for support.
Fortunately, even though Icardi couldn’t speak normally, he had mastered a form of sign language that could be interpreted by a Pocket. This was a strange phenomenon in and of itself, as, despite no words being spoken, Vahn was able to understand what the man was trying to communicate even without the auto-translation function of The Path.
With Icardi leading the way, Vahn soon found himself in an antechamber that led to a room with its door weighing heavily on broken hinges. In the surroundings, the remnants of several objects could be seen strewn about in a manner evocative of the aftermath of a hurricane. As for the actual cause, who else could it be other than Maschenny?
Standing outside the broken door, a beaten and bruised Asensio could be seen with a wry smile on his face as he offered a polite bow and explained, “Now might not be the most opportune time for a visit. It hasn’t been long since Maschenny tired herself out…if she sees you right now, I fear for the continued existence of the Palace of Spears…”
Though he had already heard a cursory explanation that allowed him to extrapolate the rest, Vahn still had Sis treat Asensio’s injuries as he asked, “What happened? Don’t tell me the Hidden Floor even replicates menstrual cycles…”
Strangely enough, Asensio actually blushed at the mention of the physiological phenomenon, his expression turning awkward as he averted his eyes to the side and answered, “It isn’t anything like that. After you left, Maschenny…she tried asking for our opinion regarding what it means to be cute. I tried convincing her that she was already cute, but she just wouldn’t listen. To make matters even worse, our father just laughed it off before disappearing somewhere. After that, Maschenny had us stand outside as she tried on a bunch of different outfits…it seems she wasn’t very satisfied with our responses. The aftermath is as you see here…”
With quite a bit of experience acting as a ‘fashion critique’ whenever he accompanied his women to try on clothing, Vahn could easily ascertain the reason for Maschenny’s frustration. Asensio gave off the impression of the noncommittal type that just said whatever he thought was necessary to make someone happy. As for Icardi, his peculiarities had resulted in him becoming a committed introvert, so, shortly after Maschenny began showing signs of exploding, he had promptly extricated himself from the situation.
Earning a confused look from the youth, Vahn gave Asensio a few light pats on the shoulder before stepping into the disaster scene that was Maschenny’s room. There, he found the room’s occupant lying face down on her bed, body limp as she pretended to be asleep.
With a massive hole in the wall and a substantial amount of dust and debris covering every surface, stepping into Maschenny’s room was almost like stumbling onto the scene of a murder. There was even a lingering bloodlust in the air, as, despite her best attempts to keep it concealed, Maschenny was far from being able to conceal her presence from someone like Vahn.
Though she was nearly three times his age, chronologically, Vahn understood that Maschenny was still a very childish woman, so, rather than choose his words carefully, he adopted a stern tone as he inquired, “How long are you going to continue sulking and pretending to be asleep? What are you expecting to happen?”
Without raising her face, Maschenny heaved a sigh into her blankets before raising her body and shamelessly sitting cross-legged while leaning on the support of her arms. This was roughly the same seated position that girls like Tiona and Mordred defaulted to, but, for a variety of different reasons, Maschenny gave off a distinctly different impression than the spirited duo. She was doing it specifically to try and get a rise out of him, but, without so much as a single twitching of the eye, Vahn simply shook his head before asking, “Does this mean you’ve given up after only a few hours? I had much higher expectations for you…it would seem I was grievously mistaken about the nature and quality of your character. Your time in the Hidden Floor has made you weak…”
Unable to suppress her anger, sparks of vibrant blue lightning began to emit from Maschenny’s body as she leaned forward and said, “I’m not weak…” in a tone that promised violence.
Maintaining his stern expression, Vahn simply shook his head a second time before turning his back on Maschenny and departing the room. This caused the not-so-young Princess to appear confused, but, rather than thinking about the reasons behind his departure, the lightning around her became even more violent as she shouted, “Where are you going!? Don’t you turn your back on me…!”
Without turning around to address the enraged Princess, Vahn allowed his aura to come to bear on the entire Palace of Spears. This caused the mountain serving as the building’s foundation to quake, and, as the intended recipient, Maschenny found herself faceplanting into her bed, wholly unable to move as Vahn said, “Keep pretending…”
—
Though he couldn’t enter the Hidden Hidden Floor for fear of being deleted, Eduan still had ways to contact people on the other side. Six-thousand-years was a long time for former mortals, so, while he had largely cut ties with Jahad after the latter deleted the data of all their friends, they still met to periodically share drinks and gripe at each other.
Under normal circumstances, it would be one of the Big Breeders conveying Jahad’s intent to meet. This time, however, Eduan took the liberty to head unannounced to their usual meetup, an unusual region of the Hidden Floor known as the Town of the Golden Dome. It was one of the only places in the Hidden Floor designed to emulate the outside, and, though they were completely fake, metallic planets and stars could be seen hovering over the observatory-like city inhabited almost exclusively by automatons and members of the many-eyed Da-an Tribe.
Waiting within the city’s only tavern, a largely empty facility occupied by two service robots and a six-armed mechanical barkeep, Eduan was unsurprised to see a familiar figure wearing an oversized red cape waiting for him at the bar. He had only ever encountered a single person ‘fearless’ enough to shamelessly wear such clothes, so, with a wry smile on his face, he moved to occupy the seat to the person’s right before asking, “How is your sense of style still this bad? You really hate listening to other people’s advice, don’t you?”
Rather than immediately replying to Eduan’s words, the cloaked man, none other than Data Jahad, lightly tapped the bar, saying, “Three bottles of your finest wine, a plat of cheese, and a basket of pretzels. Make sure the last is heated properly.”
With a mechanical whir, the robotic barkeep immediately went to work preparing Jahad’s order as the latter turned his attention to Eduan, seemingly ignoring the comment about his choice of garb as he said, “I hope you will not force my hand in the days to come. Despite our many differences, I still consider you a close friend. This enemy isn’t someone I can treat lightly. If you continue playing around, I will have no choice but to eliminate you and your children…”
Chuckling in response to Jahad’s threat, Eduan uncorked one of the bottles of wine, drinking several large gulps before exhaling a contented sigh and remarking, “It’s a strange thing. Even though they aren’t actually my brats, I can’t help feeling a little pissed off hearing you threaten them…”
To punctuate his words, several vibrant sparks danced across the surface of Eduan’s naturally pale skin, shattering the bottle and spilling its contents all over the counter. Curiously, none of the red liquid flowed towards Jahad, almost like it was willfully avoiding him. Then, with a casual sweep of his hand, even the most minuscule droplet of wine coalesced to form a perfect sphere as he said, “You know, a part of me has always wished that a child of my own making would one day visit the Hidden Floor. I never understood the whole Princess of Jahad selection process. Though, truth be told, there are many things about King Jahad that I have never understood…”
With the lightning around him rapidly dying down, Eduan extended his cup to accept the orb of red liquid, remarking, “Yet you still support him just because he is your future self…and to think, I’m the one everyone accuses of being a narcissist…”
Remaining silent in response to Eduan’s biting remark, Jahad waited until the pretzels had arrived before once again changing the topic, this time asking, “How long has it been since we last met like this? Three-hundred-years?”
Shrugging his shoulders, Eduan toyed with the contents of his cup as he lazily remarked, “I stopped keeping track of dates and time long ago…it’s not like any of that really matters in a place like this. I just eat, sleep, and, when the opportunity presents itself, f***. Though, since we’re being honest, it’s been a while since I had a good lay. I think the last one was some upstart from the Ha Family. Those damn amazons might have meat for brains, but they sure as hell know what they’re doing in bed.”
Though it was difficult to tell due to the three-eyed mask he wore, Jahad made his contempt clear by shaking his head and adopting an admonishing tone as he said, “I’ve told you this before, but you shouldn’t sleep with the children of our friends. It’s bad enough that your counterpart in the real world engages in all manner of profane acts. You should set a better example for the people coming here to meet with you.”
Scoffing in response to Jahad’s admonishment, Eduan downed the contents of his cup in a single swig before slamming it on the table and exclaiming, “Don’t give me that s***! That bastard outside has completely ruined my reputation! Can you blame me for needing to vent when half the people coming to this s*** hole have some kind of vendetta against me!? Even worse, they’re all f****** weak as s***! I mean, seriously, what the f*** are those bastards teaching their kids? It’s like they don’t give two s**** about their legacy and the quality of their offspring…!”
Under normal circumstances, Jahad would remain quiet whenever Eduan was lashing out. This time, however, he offered a curt nod in response, muttering, “This is one of the downsides to becoming an Immortal and aspiring for Godhood…perhaps that is the reason my counterpart in the real world has refused to have children…”
Frowning in response to Jahad’s silent musings, Eduan was tempted to call him out on his b*******, but, knowing the real Jahad had tweaked his data to make him forget key events, arguing with him was like trying to converse with a brick wall. He was inarguably one of the most obstinate people in their original group, and, unless he had seen or ascertained something for himself, he would never change his mind. In their youth, it was his insatiable curiosity that counterbalanced this severe flaw and compelled him to become the ‘King of Adventurers’. Here in the Hidden Floor, however, it was an aspect that made it impossible to be around for long periods of time.
With this in mind, Eduan downed half the contents of a second bottle before rising to his feet and saying, “This isn’t the kind of opponent you need to plan around. If you are willing, he will meet you without fear or hesitation. Truth be told, he reminds me a lot of how you used to be…the version of you before experiencing the Revolution Road…”
Seemingly oblivious to Eduan’s words, Jahad remained absolutely silent as he picked up another pretzel and began slowly chewing. It was only when the former had completely departed the tavern that he looked over at the empty seat, a slight frown appearing on his face as he muttered, “I hope you’re wrong about that…” before taking the third bottle and promptly departing…
(A/N: Alternate Titles: ‘Asensio got thrown under the bus…’,’Another oof moment brought to you courtesy of Princess Maschenny (O w O)…’,’There are few things more disheartening than seeing a former friend become a shell of their past selves…’)
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