Chapter Text
“So, Eunoia.” Stella consumed the bag of Dor’s in a frightening speed that left Nash concerned for her digestive system. She eyed Nash, and then narrowed her eyes at the smiling android leaning over them. “For an automation produced to assist the needs of others, you sure went the long mile for Valencia.”
Nash paused mid-bite of her burger, the attention to her meal entirely derailed at Stella’s words. Sat in a forest isolated from the populated side of Thornight, the three of them enjoyed a picnic. Originally, it was meant to be a way of bonding with Stella. Inviting her outside for a picnic was a far more preferable scene than splattering over a pie competition or furniture shopping.
Except when Nash offhandedly mentioned this to Eunoia, the android perked up in interest. Irritatingly enough, she proceeded to scold Nash for hosting a picnic in Thornight without any proper preparation or safeguards. It was a lecture about the security risks and the crime rate of the place, which Nash found awfully strange. Eunoia was present on multiple occasions Nash fought for her life, the gal actively seeked those incidents! The android even offered a deal of cooperation to Nash after the Ghost Ship incident!
She was about to wave off Eunoia's unnecessary care when the android suddenly steered gears and asked if she could join their bonding picnic. Choking on her spit wasn’t the “epitome” of the composition Nash wanted, but Eunoia asking to hang out? Was she asking this with a hidden motive? Or had the gal lost her marbles?
At first, Nash immediately protested, but her protests quickly fell flat the moment Eunoia frowned in disappointment. Damn her bleeding heart, but letting her join them was the least Nash could do when the android had been nothing but helpful to her, right? It was a good justification!
Which led them to the present. Stella wasn’t overdramatic with her words. When Eunoia offered to take care of all their meals, Nash did not expect the android to lug a mountain of food and sodas. The mountain reached up to Nash’s height—not that she was short!—and both gals dropped their jaws in a manner that didn’t imply eating food.
Stella. Of course, Nash had to ask her rival for permission. It was meant for the two of them, and Stella’s opinion of Eunoia had been nothing less than suspicious and weary. To be truthful, Nash assumed Stella to be against the idea of letting Eunoia attend the picnic. Surprisingly—and hasn’t Nash been surprised lately—the gal agreed.
Leading to the three of them relaxing on the outskirts of the forest. Trees towered over the entrance to their kind and blades of grass poked and prodded at Nash’s boots. The grass was soft enough for Nash to roll around in, but she would have to hold her composure to do so for the moment. Soft winds occasionally curled around them, though their weak attempts at pushback failed to send even their meals airborne. No critters attempted to swipe a chance at the burger mountain, but Nash was ready to cackle if one of them ripped into Stella’s prized Dor bags.
Nash understood Stella’s suspicions, though she had a hankering suspicion Eunoia intentionally brought some of Stella's favorite foods to influence her friend’s opinion. Admittedly…there was some success to it. Nash wholeheartedly believed Stella bit people, and Stella hadn’t bared her teeth to the android yet.
In response to Stella’s comment, Eunoia chuckled. “I promised Valencia I would attend to the nourishment of this picnic.” Her hands clasped around her back. “My reputation as an android of assistance would be tainted if I couldn’t make do of my promises.”
“I suppose that’s fair.” Stella took a sip of her soda, and then slammed it down in a manner one would see from a drunken alcoholic. “This much, though? Quite a lot, even for me, and rest assured I will take some home. Do you you have no other motives, though? Perhaps information gathering on our resident nerd here?”
“Hey!” Nash protested.
Stella grinned and shrugged. “My apologies. Though my point still stands. If I may be blunt, Eunoia? I hold my reservations against you.” She switched her gaze back to Eunoia. “Your ‘friendship’ with Val despite your regulation. This request to accompany us. An origin none of us know of. Do you have feelings? A soul? Or are you an automated program of billions of numbers attempting to masquerade as a living being for your own hidden goals? Can you eat?”
“Stella—”
“Do you poop?”
“Don’t ask her that!” Nash shouted, elbowing Stella’s shoulder in secondhand embarrassment.
“Ouch!”
“No, I do not need to defecate.”
“Don’t answer her either!”
Eunoia laughed at Nash’s mortified expression. Despite Stella’s suspicions, her expression remained as stagnant as ever. Perhaps Eunoia’s mastered stagnant emotions, hiding behind a mess of panic internal to wires and code. It was one of the Dreamsphere’s mysteries Nash supposed she wouldn’t understand for a long time.
“However…I understand your reservations.” Eunoia softened her tone, her body robotically still. “While I cannot list my true intentions, rest assured I hold no malice with this picnic. Nor do I wish to harm Valencia.” Eunoia shifted her glance to Nash. “If my words are still met with skepticism, then I will hold no grudge. A foolish wish, yet I hope my words can be taken at face value.”
While Stella’s blindfold covered her eyes, Nash noticed the pursing of Stella’s lips. After a few seconds, Stella sighed. “I can’t trust you yet, not with the consequences if this honesty turns out to be false.” She shifted unrestlessly. “Though, how malevolent could someone who brought mountains of sodas and Dors for Val be?”
“Countering such a question isn’t difficult,” Nash deadpanned, though she exhaled fondly. “At the very least, Eunoia, it’s uncomfortable watching you hover over us like a maid. Please sit down beside us.”
Eunoia tilted her head, and for a second Nash almost thought a flicker of surprise and disbelief crossed the android’s face. It was gone just as quick as it came, leaving Nash to wonder if it was just her imagination. The android nodded and sat on the quilt beside her.
Nash nodded in appreciation and Stella smirked. “Look at you, Val! I wasn’t expecting you to invite me out to a picnic in the first place. A nerd like you seems like the type to invite others to restaurants, or Josafá forbid, a fast food place.”
“So what if I tend to eat out a lot?” Nash huffed. “With how hectic my life can be, I don’t have enough time to cook for myself. Fast food is easy and convenient, not to mention filling.”
“Can you cook?”
“Of course I can. What do you take me for?”
“Do you really want to know?” Stella laughed. “I see…an unemployed nerd wandering about, with a mind I wish to decipher. How was your childhood? Boring, right? Were you one of those hermits who built pillow forts in their room?”
“I should launch you in another catapult,” Nash muttered. “No, I was not a hermit. I enjoyed running outside with my friends and family.” She averted her eyes. The thought of her past isn’t a train of thought Nash wished to go through. “I grew up active, playing a lot of games with the neighborhood children. Like Galleons! Or Tradelands! Or Naval Tag!”
“Naval Tag? What’s that?” Stella asked.
“Naval Tag…” Eunoia paused in contemplation. “Could it be a variation of Zombie Tag?” Eunoia’s gaze was knowing.
“No way, Zombie Tag?!” Stella burst out into bits of laughter. She sat up and put her hands on Nash’s shoulders. “I loved that game when I was younger! Playing it with the neighborhood kids, sometimes my mom. We had a lot of fun each time we played.”
“...I enjoyed that game too,” Nash admitted, a fond smile on her face. “Playing with the neighborhood kids gave me such a thrill. Though they could never catch me, so most people regarded me as a ‘tryhard.’”
“You? No way,” Stella placed her hand on her chin, staring at Nash like she was a science experiment. “Well, my rival wouldn’t be any less than athletic, but I was undefeated in my own time too! If we were in our youth, you wouldn’t stand a chance against me, Val!”
“How confident,” Nash grinned just as challengingly. “I don’t believe so. If we were playing, it would merely be a repeat of Baroniza. I take pride in my avoidance abilities, Stella. Those who lift themselves up with confidence fall faster.”
“We’ll have to put that to the test! Hey, Eunoia!” Stella whipped her head excitedly to the android. “I need you to be a judge! Tell them!”
“I would love to be a judge,” Eunoia replied. “However, my judgement may be skewed compared to someone who’s experienced this game before. As I was created to be the way I am, I had never experienced a childhood. Much less played this game of tag you and Valencia are so fond of.”
Nash froze. Right, her and Stella were so into their competition, she forgot the most obvious outlier. Eunoia wouldn’t understand their rivalry beyond the knowledge she has of the game. Of course, she might find enjoyment in watching the two, but the thought of Eunoia being a third wheel unsettled Nash. It was just the idea of her left alone, once again a spectator that dimmed her mood. Stella, despite her earlier suspicions, softened at Eunoia’s casual truth.
Missing out…wasn’t particularly fair to Eunoia. After all, Nash accepted her request to join them. Though this picnic never expected a Eunoia to arrive with an extra layer of love and care, it wouldn’t be fair to exclude her. Nash silently wondered what she could do for the android who’d never had a childhood, and then snapped her fingers.
“Eunoia, would you like to play Naval Tag?”
Uncharacteristically, the android startled. She looked at Nash like somebody had ruffled her wires. “Pardon?”
“We have a lot of time before I resume my work,” Nash continued. “Why don’t we use this to introduce you to the game? I’m sure with all of your automations around the world, one of them has the leisure to join us.”
“I am not so sure of that, Valencia,” Eunoia replied hesitantly. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to interfere—”
“That’s a great idea, Val!” Stella interrupted. “We get to show Eunoia the art of Zombie Tag, and I get to prove my worth against an android!” Eunoia quieted. Her superhuman stats as an android was likely her other excuse. Stella noticed Eunoia’s hesitation, smirking at the android. “I see automations as fearless, although perhaps I may be wrong if you deny the request, Eunoia~”
Nash chuckled softly, and then crossed her arms. “Eunoia, disregarding your abilities and your body, is there a legitimate reason to deny my request?”
“A request that you usually aren’t allowed to deny unless it interrupts important duties—which I doubt you have considering you’re at a picnic with us,” Stella added.
When Eunoia had nothing to say, she exhaled in resignation and beamed. “I don’t suppose there is a reason to deny your request, Valencia. Alright, I’ll take some time to play this game of tag with the two of you.”
“Alright! Shall we?” Stella sat up, only for Nash’s hand to lower her back down.
Nash raised an eyebrow. “Except, if we’re playing by the rules, we don’t have enough people.”
“...ah, right. I may have gotten too excited.” Stella deflated. “With your lonely practices, I wonder if you have any friends, Val.”
Nash twitched, a retort on the tip of her tongue before Stella suddenly froze.
“Hold on, Val. We are playing by the same rules, right?” Stella brought into question. Nash paused in initial confusion. “While I mention Zombie Tag, you mention Naval Tag, correct? Are there any differences Naval Tag has to offer?”
Both of them turned to Eunoia, who shook her head. “Not particularly. Both of your games offer similar rules under different roles. One individual gets chosen as ‘IT.’ After that, the other players run as ‘IT’ begins counting down. ‘IT’ is then given a time limit to tag every player. While the duration may be mixed depending on numerous factors, the basic rules stand: if ‘IT’ tags someone, they become another ‘IT.’ If anyone remains uncaught when the time limit ends, they win. However, if everyone is caught, the original ‘IT’ wins.”
“Is that all?” Nash asked, and Stella looked at her oddly.
“Ah, are you referring to Naval Tag’s prize rules?”
“Prize rules?”
“Where I come from, to make the game a little more interesting, everyone must bring their treasure,” Nash explained. “Similar to a gamble, everyone bets their treasure. Whoever wins, gets it all.”
“Woah,” Stella widened her eyes. “That’s a risky gambit.”
“Indeed,” Nash agreed. “It makes the game a whole lot more interesting, however. I believe we should play with prize rules in mind.”
Stella grinned devilishly. “A hint of risk imbued into a simple game of tag? Sounds fun. Does it have to be called Naval Tag, though? You played a lot of pirate-sounding games in your childhood, Val.”
“Haha, yeah…” Nash laughed nervously.
“With such a popular game, a lot of variations are expected,” Eunoia said. “Though the most popular ones right now seem to be Causer and Fissure Tag?”
“Eh?”
“Depending on which affiliation an individual is, the tagger and the tagged are different!” Eunoia grinned like nothing was wrong with her statement.
“...let’s not do that.”
“Agreed.” Stella said. “We’ll need more people though. Should I invite the people I know?”
Nash has some friends, but would they have the time or distance to accept her recreation of a childish game? Her train of thought paused when Eunoia’s words entered her ears.
“Not to worry, there are some individuals I can send invitations to!” Eunoia said. “Please leave them to me.”
“Well, alright.” Stella tilted her head. “Where are we meeting, though?”
“Similarly, please leave it to me.”
—
A day later, Windy Island was covered in a blanket of snow. The mansion, decorated in its Christmas mood, undertook a jolly vibe. Rabbits, making a ruckus outside, rolled around in the snow in their perpetual state of panic. To the one resident of Windy Island, the winter snow was the same as it always was.
However…
“Eunoia.” Nash pinched her nose, fighting off a headache. “How did you know where I live? Actually, that’s to be expected. A better question.” She waved a hand out. “How are all of them here?!”
The android grinned happily, not a hint of regret in that expression of hers.
Stella walked around the mansion, awe in her face. “Val…you live in a mansion?!” She shouted. “While I live in one myself, I didn’t expect such a place of luxury to be your home!” The gal picked up a gift, examining it from all sides. Nash hoped she didn’t touch the pond codes…or the plant in her bathroom. If the sleepwalker awoke in Crystal Bird, Stella would wake up with her home egged.
“‘All of them?’ That’s a bit harsh, Valencia.” Richardson sat on one of the Twelfth Mansion’s couches. “Adelaide had shown me pictures of the place, but it’s a lot more impressive getting a firsthand view of the mansion.”
Clarence Iron chuckled, the moosefolk treading on the staircase. “Did I even have to pay you those studs for participating?” He asked. “Impressive place you got here, Valencia. In such an isolated place too, no wonder why the Dreamsphere could never get any more sightings of their proclaimed Pie Witch.”
She still flushes at that nickname. It was better than Short Surprise, at least.
“And why are you here?” Nash dryly said to Old Nicky. The old man was comfortably sitting on one of her couches, enjoying a cup of tea.
“When I was invited by Eunoia to come and play tag, this old fellow couldn’t help but accept.” Old Nicky said pleasantly. “Although your home is bathed in a torrent of frost, it would be rude to deny a friend’s invitation. Especially with the assistance to see it through.”
Nash slowly gave the android another deadpan.
“In the worst case scenario, I am more than equipped to protect Old Nicky from both the cold and any hostile critters.” Eunoia replied.
The sound of footsteps alerted her, and she faced Jock Stuart. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Valencia,” Stuart said, holding out his hand. “With Zombie Tag sounding like a fun game, I decided to accept Eunoia’s invitation. I hope that’s alright with you.”
Softening, Nash smiled and shook his hand. “The pleasure is all mine, Stuart. I’m happy to have you here.” Her mood brightened at the appearance of the virtuous man, but dimmed again when the sound of an explosion erupted above her.
“Ah!” Cazas ran downstairs. “I believed I’d seen every oddity, but it seems even your home is as strange as you, Sleepyhead.” She looked around the house like a critter might personally jump her. Which…unfortunately isn’t impossible. “What’s with that freaky plant in the bathroom?”
“You?!” Nash shouted, darting to her feet in case a wind spell launches her to the ceiling. “Why are you here?! And don’t touch that plant!”
Cazas huffed. “I’ll have you know, I was doing you a favor getting rid of such a repulsive plant! Some gratitude I get for my assistance.” Next to her, Casia appeared in the blink of an eye.
“This place is amazing…I wanna live here.” Casia replied in hushed awe, stars in her eyes. There were a couple of Nash’s books in her hands, alongside a model of the cow she won from Tamura!. People see her mansion and love touching her property, apparently. “This is definitely credited to someone else, though.”
“A writer, perhaps?”
“I sent letters to each and every one of your friends, Valencia.” Eunoia changed the subject. “Once they accepted, one of my automations met them. I knew the trip to Windy Island would be arduous, hence my original plan was to host the game in a dying mall near Thornight. However, a strange figure on a boat was kind enough to assist me and the rest of your friends here.”
“A man in a boat? Kent?” Nash hummed bewilderedly. “I see…how odd.” She shook her head and growled, bigger issues on her mind. “That isn’t even the oddest situation here! What is he doing here?!”
Eunoia acknowledged the figure crossing his arms and glaring at them. “I cannot believe the first thing I do once I obtain a method of astral projection…is waste it on a game of tag.” Xigeris sighed deeply, an action Nash truly would have understood if his malice wasn’t aimed at her. “Especially to traitorous dirt like you, Nashatra Bealdhild.” He rose himself from the wall.
“Hey! Who the hell are you to be insulting Valencia like this, in her own home nonetheless?!” Stella slid in front of Nash, glaring at Xigeris with her own hostility.
“This is a personal matter that is none of your business,” Xigeris glared back. The two of them stared each other down. Casia ate popcorn like it was a soap opera, while Richardson watched Xigeris carefully. There was an unreadable expression on Richardson’s face, but his hand twitched near the holster of his shotgun.
Stuart raised his hands, intervening when the tension hit its climax. “Let’s all calm down here,” Stuart said. “While we may bicker with each other, remember our reasoning for being in Valencia’s home. Riling each other up this early won’t do us any good, so how about we get ready to play tag?” He looked to Nash and Eunoia.
“...fine,” Stella relented. “But if I get the chance, I’m totally taking you down.”
Xigeris snorted. “The last thing I will ever be afraid of is some woman whose main sport is pie hiking.” He strolled away, leaving Stella to rub her head rapidly. Nash almost saw the smoke leaving her ears.
“That Darius…” Nash muttered. From across the room, Old Nicky looked at her with the pity of an old man who loves his gossip.
“I did invite him,” Eunoia admitted, and Nash squawked at her. “I assumed it would be best if I invited everyone you had a deep relationship with, Valencia! That way, all of us would have a little more fun with people of familiarity!"
“A deep relationship is not what I would call some of them,” Nash eyed Cazas in some fashion attempting to talk to Xigeris. Though it entertainingly read like a back and forth between an extrovert and an introvert. Clarence wisely scooted backward from the two towards Old Nicky.
Eunoia drooped. “There were a couple of more letters I sent, but…”
From her hand, Eunoia dropped a couple of rejection letters, the name Noden written on one. The other letter had the name Halstein Riot.
Xigeris disengaged from his spot on the staircase with Cazas to unsettlingly stare at the word Noden. “Who the hell…?”
“Please don’t invite gods to play tag, Eunoia,” Nash rubbed her temple. “I am unaware of who this Halstein Riot is, though. Unless…” Nash froze in realization, “the person I signed an autograph for?”
“You signed an autograph for someone, Val?” Stella chuckled. “People found you popular, huh?”
“Popular was an understatement,” Clarence said, scratching his antlers. “Lots of people wanted to talk to her, it was enough to fill my email. Even my boss wanted to capitalize off of Nash’s newfound popularity! But how was I supposed to communicate to them that Valencia was simply a stand-in?!” Clarence complained. Nonetheless, Nash deflated in appreciation toward the deerfolk for preventing her head on a soundbite.
“I purchased a poster of her.” Richardson contributed, and Nash coughed in alarm.
“What—I have merch?!”
“Of course, Valencia. You beat Robin on your first competition.” Clarence explained, a hint of pride in his tone. “It’s expected for people to love you enough to desire your merch.”
“Tch. What a waste.” Nash knew who said that, but perhaps the man might disappear if she feigned ignorance of him.
“That’s the price of fame,” Stuart shook his head.
Old Nicky chuckled at the news. “Oh, the youth and their idolization of celebrities. I remember mine, so many decades ago. I’m glad my computer at the Guardian allows me to relive the old days.”
“There were two more letters I sent,” Eunoia said. “Though, I never received a response from either of them.” The android planted her list on the table, the names ‘Kaboom,’ and ‘Adelaide’ not crossed out.
“You invited Adelaide?” Richardson brightly laughed. “It would’ve been nice to see her again. With how busy she is, I unfortunately wouldn’t have expected anything less.”
Nash shivered dreadfully. “Please don’t invite Adelaide,” she said. “While I would love to see her again, with any luck, finding her even after the game ends would take billions of repose.”
“She would have loved this game.”
“She would.”
“Who is Kaboom, though?” Everyone looked to Nash for an explanation.
“An individual I’ve assisted—wait a minute, how in the world do you know about him?!” Nash sputtered at Eunoia.
“Hehe, I have my ways,” Eunoia brightly smiled, which was terrifying. She cleared her throat, silencing the room. “Hello, everyone! While feelings of mutual distaste exist upon some of us here, I must ask that for this one day, we put our hostility aside. Including you, Valencia.”
Nash bit her tongue to prevent a dry retort. This entire game existed for Eunoia’s sake, after all. Though she was staying 5 feet away from Darius—gods forbid he stab her in the back.
“Now, if we may all come together to discuss the rules? I am aware most of you see it as Zombie Tag, but for simplicity’s sake, I’ve come up with a custom term for our upcoming competition. Today, we will be playing Sleepwalker Tag!”
Stiffening, Nash exchanged a rare look of disbelief with Xigeris.
Eunoia explained the rules of the game once the residents gathered around the Christmas tree.
“If I may?” Clarence raised his hand once Eunoia finished her explanation. “My stamina isn’t doing it for me nowadays. How much time do the Sleep–Sleepwalkers, right. How much time do they have until they beat the androids?”
“With the nature that comes with my biology, my limitless stamina gives me an unfair advantage. For the sake of equality, the Sleepwalker Team only has three hours to survive. It’s 2:30 pm. Say…we’ll begin the game at 3:00, and finish by the evening.”
“I can get behind that.”
“As some of us are more mortal than others, however, I must establish a baseline of power. All of my weapons, including the ones designed to incapacitate will be disabled for the game. Any strikes with the intent to kill will be an automatic disqualification.” Eunoia’s eyes flicked between Nash and Xigeris. “You two will be disabled from most of your abilities, though I will allow the use of your items.”
Stella snorted and elbowed. “You hear that, Val? Your nerdy abilities will be disabled, how spooky.”
“Right, my…spooky abilities,” Nash averted her eyes.
Xigeris twitched, but huffed. “Very well. I’ll accept those terms.”
“Witchcraft is allowed, with the exceptions of neutralizers, or ones which make catching you impossible.”
Casia sighed. “That’s a bit of a shame. I was hoping to test the efficiency of a spell that turns people into cockroaches.”
Nash wasn’t going to delve into that.
Richardson and Old Nicky alike raised their hands. “Oh, you can go first,” Richardson said.
“How kind of you,” Old Nicky chuckled. “Though I believe our questions are alike.” His eyes flickered momentarily at Richardson’s shotgun, before his attention returned to Eunoia. “Despite the no-kill rule, we are allowed to incapacitate others, correct? Including the usage of weapons that may prove lethal if misused?”
“Accidents may happen, so I would like it if the use of lethal weaponry was minimized,” Eunoia answered. “Though, you are allowed to incapacitate people, provided they don’t tag you.”
“Don’t worry, though!” Cazas twirled her wand. “In case anyone fails the most basic rules of trust, I’ll happily punish the sinners.”
“And just checking,” Stella asked. “Pie hiking is allowed, correct?”
“Yes.”
Stella grinned.
Next to her, Stuart began stretching. “This’ll be fun! Good practice for high-pressure situations.”
Clarence rubbed his shoulder. “I haven’t pie hiked in a while, but maybe it’ll come in handy.”
“Hey.” Xigeris’ voice called out to Eunoia. “Noticed you haven’t disabled the entirety of your systems, including the technological aspects. Are we allowed to use our Rebirth Vision?”
Eunoia hummed. “I’ll allow it. The point of limiting your abilities is to bring us down to a more human level. As long as it’s considered reasonable enough, there will be no issue.”
“How exactly will you decide this? What if, say, I launched myself halfway across the island with my blade?”
“I trust that everyone here understands the capabilities of a human.” Eunoia said. “Jumping off three story windows is a drastic measure, but measures some of us might choose during our game.”
Nash whistled. Wonder who that could be.
“With that out of the way, I believe it’s time we give our treasures. Only once everyone’s given away their treasures can we begin Sleepwalker Tag.”
Nash stepped up first. “Originally, I was tempted to offer the Twelfth Mansion as my treasure,” Richardson and Xigeris choked. With a grin at their expressions, Nash drops her Golden Net on the table. “However, I have carried this for too long to consider this any less than a prized possession.”
“That’s very pretty,” Casia admired. “The enchantments and PSY on it are impressively produced. It feels like this was molded by a god, or a similar entity.”
Cazas stared judgmentally at Nash. “You had that this whole time? Wow, it’s almost like you wanted me to shoot you.”
“I doubt my net would have dimmed suspicions, more so fueled them.” Nash shot back.
“Haha, so that’s the net I see you fly around with, Valencia.” Old Nicky replied with an almost fond tone. “As for my treasure, it would have to be the Guardian itself.”
It was Nash’s turn to shout. “What?! Is such a thing even legal to give?”
“Probably not,” Old Nicky admitted. “I have very few treasures in my old life, though. Many would not care for a photo of my loved ones, leaving only the Guardian. The Guardian may be a naval prison in the worst of days, but the old ship’s been the reason for my survival all these years. And are they passing by fast!”
“...Should I ask what the Guardian is?” Clarence asked hesitantly.
“An old ship of mine I’ve sailed on for decades, near the village of Ten Mou. Many recognize it from its shark-like appearance. I will happily entrust it in my passing, provided it doesn’t sink of course!”
“A shark-like ship?” If Stuart wasn’t already paying close attention to the words of the old man, the Guardian’s description put a spring in the man’s step. “The sight of that gives off the impression of fear, but I find it enticing. May I ask what shark its design is based off of?”
“My apologies, but I’m unaware of its exact inspiration. Knowing its creators, it was most likely imagined as a deterrent, compared to any accuracy.”
“A…shark.” Xigeris stiffened. “A Fissure ship?” he hissed. From the clenching of his fist, the old man became more than just a frail elder hanging around in the Twelfth Mansion.
“You invited a war veteran to the party?!” Cazas complained. “That old man’s going to blast us in reflex!”
“If we were basing this off of instinct, half of us would not be here,” Nash argued. “Though…I suppose the Guardian does count, doesn’t it.”
“It very well does!” Eunoia accepted.
“This would be as good of a time as ever to donate my treasure. My catalog of bestiaries is a prized possession of mine, but I wouldn’t feel all too happy giving the winner an incomplete list. I believe this will do.” Richardson took out his shotgun. “The last thing I would want to do is go trigger-happy on someone here.”
“Oh…there will definitely be a casualty by the end of this.” Cazas straightened her glasses, her tone sounding like she was two seconds away from shooting someone with her magic.
“What about you, then?” Nash asked. “What’s your treasure?”
“Actually,” Eunoia spoke up before Cazas could. “Cazas is staying out of the game to ensure it runs smoothly. That includes announcing any newly infected, or making sure everyone follows the rules correctly."
“That’s right! The last thing I'd do is bring my troublesome sister to one of your events without me keeping her safe.”
“I can take care of myself, sister,” Casia protested. “The gunmen incident was one time! I didn’t even cry from it!”
“Any sister worth her common sense would prohibit her younger sister to hang out with older strangers. Without a chaperone.”
“Hmph.” Casia crossed her arms. “My treasure will be my Grimoire. It has a lot of my notes, alongside a couple of my spells. Some of them may be replicated by even the most magicless of people. This is my treasure.”
“Val, Val!” Stella whispered. “Do you think if one of us wins this, we can trick-or-treat dressed as witches and scare the locals with our witchcraft?”
“That will get us arrested…but it’s a tempting thought.”
Clarence cleared his throat. “Uh, well then. I don’t have any weapons of war. My treasure is a lot more humble.” He placed forth his pie skin. “If this doesn’t work, I have others I can donate from my past wins.” Nash already had this one, but earning another pie skin from Clarence was a nice opportunity to toss out.
“A treasure like that is suitable, as long as it’s considered valuable to you.” Eunoia nodded.
“Well, I should give my own pie skin!” Stella throws hers down. “Of course, if someone like Val wins, then I’ll have to choose another treasure. But it’s not as though she’ll win in the first place.”
“Hah! We’ll see, Stárková.”
“Are you following us, Stuart?” Clarence asked.
“While my pie skin is a valuable part of me,” Stuart planted a mini aquarium on the table, a couple of fish swimming in the aquarium’s water. “I hold a lot of fondness for my fish! Please treat them well, whichever one of us wins this competition.”
That tracks with Stuart.
“Of course, I’ll make sure of it,” Eunoia nodded. “I believe it’s my turn, then.”
Nash perked up in interest. What kind of treasure would Eunoia have? Could it be the mafia the Sleepwalker suspects Eunoia’s involvement in? Or her limitless information of every individual and the factions that support them? Or the automation’s deepest secrets? Nash wagered Eunoia herself as a possible prize; she’s sure the android would do something like that.
Only Eunoia chuckled, and then her sights locked onto Nash. Suddenly, a horrible feeling waved over Nash, equivalent to the feeling in her gut Rebirth Vision grants. Or worse than death, the threat of mortification. “Eunoia…?” The room felt frigid as Nash focused on the android.
Before Nash could react, Eunoia gripped her sleeve with surprising gentleness, and thrust her forward. “My treasure is Valencia!”
Silence. Most of the room had their jaws on the floor, aside from a suspiciously coughing Old Nicky.
“What?!” Stella exclaimed.
“Oh dear,” Richardson said.
“Hold on!” Stuart floundered about, waving his hands with a mix of shock and protest. “Is that even allowed?”
Eunoia took their reactions with grace. “Your donation, Stuart, was accepted by everyone in the room. That implies the allowance of living beings as treasures, does it not?”
“Hm, I suppose it does.”
“While that is indeed pretty funny, you can’t just gamble a living person!” Stella shouted, though she looked like she wished the idea came to her first.
“Don’t treat me as an object to give!” Nash shouted angrily, moving Eunoia’s hand away from her sleeve.
“How silly, I wouldn’t accept a literal person as a reward!” Cazas protested, though Casia looked strangely contemplative, eyeing Nash with narrowed eyes. “While having a servant may be helpful, the last thing I would want is Valencia!”
“Agreed,” Xigeris bluntly deadpanned.
Nash felt oddly offended. Richardson looked a bit troubled, and Clarence was still watching the scene with clear bafflement. Stella and Stuart continued to protest, though, as the two of them were focused on Eunoia.
Why did Eunoia look so happy?
“If I may,” Old Nicky interrupted, not a hint of fear underneath the amusement in his tone. The old man didn’t falter despite catching the stares of every player. “That young lady’s talk about servants. While I don’t view it in such a manner, winning would mean owning Valencia, right?”
As if a thousand blankets engulfed them all, the room instantly turned silent.
“...” Stella’s expression mollified, her hand on her chin. Nash could see the hints of a grin from where parts of her hand concealed her mouth. “...alright, I guess we have no choice then to accept this! I wonder what outfits work on Val,” the last sentence was spoken with a whisper.
Stuart sighed in acceptance. “Very well. Though if I win, I will let her go.”
“I’d feel guilty using Valencia again, so rest assured I’d let her go if I won too,” Clarence said.
“Hm.” Xigeris crossed his arms.
“What–no!” Nash was the only one protesting. “Don’t I get a say?!”
“No.”
“Not really.”
“You could always argue against this, Valencia,” Eunoia hummed to herself like she didn’t sacrifice Nash to the Florians. “However, you would have to specify what exactly you’re against. Are you against Stuart’s inclusion of his own treasure, the democracy of the people, or my rules?”
“I–you,” Nash sputtered, before she slumped in resignation. “Fine, but just know I’m against this entirely.”
“We know.”
“Haha, look on the bright side, Valencia!” Old Nicky laughed, off the couch to pat Nash in sympathy. “There are many perspectives you can acquire when the rigid workload you dedicate yourself to is sidelined to assist a friend. It would be a good change of pace.”
“Of course you’re for this,” Nash deadpanned. “I wouldn’t expect any less from someone like you.” She pinched her nose, deciding to move on before the crisis of being donated like a stray cat hit. “If everyone’s donated their treasures, we can begin—”
“Hold on,” Xigeris interrupted her, crossing his arms. “I haven’t given my treasure yet.”
“With some due respect,” Nash waved him off. “You are a dead man. What treasures would someone buried in the ground still own?”
Xigeris grinned ominously, and slammed down a photo album. “On my ventures to the Twelfth Mansion, I acquired this from Pirate’s Canon.” Pirate’s Canon? Nash zoomed over to Xigeris and swiped the book from him, flicking over the pages in hurry. They were photos of Nash in every stage of her life growing up in Pirate’s Canon, some even of her and the Rose Seekers. Most importantly—there were baby pictures of her!
Nash slapped the photo album shut, her face red, and stared at Xigeris in mortification. “How did you get this?!” She yanked her sword out and immediately tried to jab the book through its cover, but Xigeris blocked it with the handle of Nash’s own net.
“Indeed,” Xigeris stared at Nash with a look of pure joy. An expression the happiest Nash had ever seen on her old friend. “The Nashatra Bealdhild Childhood Photo Collection! This is my revenge for all you’ve done, Nash!”
“There’s photos of Valencia as a baby?!” Stella brightened with a devious grin, but Clarence immediately took possession of the book.
“This is only for the winner, Stella,” Clarence held it up higher when Stella stretched her hand out. “Let the chance of a splendid reward fuel your competitive spirit—hey! Don’t push—Stuart, help me out here.”
Stuart held Stella’s shoulders as the latter tried to get out of his grip. There must’ve been something that the aquarium's been teaching Stuart, because it wasn’t an arduous task. “Please calm down, Stella.”
“Fine! I’ll be able to see it once I turn out on top.”
Richardson hummed in thought. “I’ve only ever seen photos of Valencia years prior. It would be nice to see more photos of a time when relief was more commonplace for you.”
Stella’s eyes darted to Richardson like a Fissure soldier smelling civilians to shoot. “You have a photo of Valencia? Let me see!”
Richardson chuckled as he took out a polaroid, and the two of them started gushing over a carefree Nash. Perhaps strangulation wouldn’t be too much of a stretch, after all. Either way, Nash fought back the heat in her face and stared at Eunoia pleadingly.
Eunoia giggled, finally deciding to relieve Nash of her torture. “If we could get back on topic? It’s time to decide who’s IT. For simplicity’s sake, a simple competition of Rock Paper Scissors will do.”
As if fate itself found it hilarious, Eunoia ended up becoming the android.
“Oh no,” Nash paled.
“Bad luck, Eunoia,” Richardson sympathized. “Unfortunately, luck is an aspect no calculation can predict.”
“Indeed!” Eunoia agreed. “Though, it’s not a role I’m all too against. Before we begin, I must clarify.” She gestured to Cazas. “As I’ve stated, Cazas will assist me in Sleepwalker Tag. It would be simple enough handling the eliminations and announcements of everyone here. However, my participation brought up a chance for difficulties I would not have been able to handle without an assistant.”
Cazas swiped her wand, and everyone was given a walkie-talkie. “All of you won’t be able to complain of treachery, because these walkie-talkies will announce the eliminations.”
“With that said,” Eunoia said. “I will remain immobile and close my eyes. Once I count to 100, I will move.”
“Good luck, everyone!”