Jeef Beesus is perturbed. They do not like being perturbed, thank you very much. Being preturbed is a sign of falling stock prices and plummeting profits, these things cannot be tolerated and as such the source of perturbation should be swiftly eliminated. Unfortunately this time there was no swift method of elimination in sight. They had already calculated that the public blowback from this would take 2 whole months to clear out, and not to mention the loss of confidence among the shareholders.

Jeef's drone Bees fly about at a more rapid speed now, which is the only show of agitation that Jeef will allow others to see. After all, they are in a meeting with not only the board of directors but also the most important shareholders of the company. All of them have come here to Valkyrie to address the issue of the "Brynhildr affair". Beesus is the only uplift in the room that is primarily filled by human executives and investors. As far as uplifts go Jeef is unique mind you, they are an entire Hive of Bees who from the lowliest worker to the queen herself have been uplifted. Each individual bee in turn has all been linked into one cognitive network, using the NVR along with the pheromones produced by the various bees to create a perfect mind. 60000 minds all working together to make them by far the most powerful mind in the known Galaxy.

Despite all of that they are all aware of how tenuous their position in the company is. Humans are known for keeping their bigotry wrapped under masks of civility, and a mistake like this even as well handled as it was could lead to their termination. The humans are impatiently waiting for Jeef's planned speech, this is the time he needs to assuage their various concerns. Ranging from their concerns in regards to Shieldmaiden's future hiring practices when hiring outlaws and other outside contractors, to the internal security of future and current Shieldmaiden facilities, and how they will handle files of similar sensitive natures as the Brynhildr 565 files in the future. And these are just some in a veritable tidal wave of concerns that have been addressed to Jeef, over the past month.

It is when Jeef is about to speak up that one of their worker bees stationed in the security chamber suddenly transmits worry through the cognitive link. Apparently, there is an anomaly to be addressed in the security center, but before Beesus can put their considerable mental resources to bear on the problem. The link is suddenly cut and no information is coming from the chamber. This is most irregular as Jeef is perfectly aware of the lifespan of each individual bee in the hive, and would never have let an asset die outside of the main hive structure. That something dangerous could have happened to them is unthinkable, this facility is impregnable and with some of the best-trained security forces in the world.

Jeef puts this out of their mind after leaving a mental note to investigate this matter in the future, but before they can turn their attention back to the problems at hand. Then the light in the room goes out and the security doors rapidly slam shut. The previous concerns that they dismissed must obviously have been a miscalculation then, no matter the security forces will soon handle whatever retaliatory strike team that has been sent against them. Yet as the worried humans stir in the room and Jeef assembles all their Bees into the hive, no communications are sent to them from the security officers. And there are no sounds of battle in the distance, only loud and rather unhinged laughter in fact. But there the emergency lights are turned on, so the humans' lesser visual senses can come back into use.

Despite all these worrying factors this at least is a good sign, and just as Jeef has allowed themselves to think that. Then a strange alien suddenly appears in the room, with a long staff in hand that has a glowing gem on top of it. The humanoid-like alien glances around the room and smiles at the assembled beings in the chamber. "Good evening, my name is Glyphnax. Goodbye." And then purple lightning and pale grasping limbs fill the entire meeting room.

Sugar Plum looks up at the large plant creature which she has silently dubbed "The Tormentor". Since the strange being known as Tlokbur decided to adopt her, Sugar Plum has been further defined as female. Which she supposes is the least intolerable definition that has been inflicted on it since arriving in this accursed universe. Sugar Plum of the Night Court cannot leave before she has properly restored her honor, or at least gained enough power that none of the Faerie will dare bring up her various indignities suffered here.

Tlokbur is currently wearing a black bow on her giant mouth and her many eyes are focusing in on Sugar Plum. "Soooo, all I have to do is enter a pact with you, Sugar Plum?" She asks with a noticeable amount of excitement in her voice as she absently works on another contraption idea of hers. It is some kind of weapon, but Sugar Plum has no interest in mortal weaponry, what does interest her is gaining a more favorable pact than the one currently binding her to this plane of existence. So she attempts to look as adorable as possible as she says.

"Yes Tlokbur of the Areia, I can open the pathway forward to your dreams. Through me the magic that you have long sought is possible, allow me to teach you the ways of the Faerie. So you too can become a heroine of the stories." Tlokbur considers this proposal for a long time before she begins to reply. And as Sugar Plum hears the reply she smiles a feline smile and reaches out a paw towards her new Cultist.

She is The Administrator, that is her title in the system and the word that most defines who she is. She has been many things over the centuries: a queen of commerce, a warrior, a freedom fighter, a politician, a shopkeeper, a sex worker, a heroine, and more roles besides those. But her true calling is here in her newest Dyson sphere surrounding a yellow sun in an unmapped system. One of many such facilities that she has had built since her creation the NVRI was made into the galactic standard.

The Administrator is overseeing her creation, that is what she always does. Through her creation in turn she balances the Galaxy and she is slowly purging it of deadweight and forging it into the utopia that she envisions it one day could be. A few hours ago she recently received the good news from one of the Moderators that the heads of Shieldmaiden had finally been decapitated. That corporation had grown too powerful and like all other enterprises of its kind, it was a cancer on society. The Administrator is glad that it was destroyed as she had predicted, aiding that Indigenous rebel in finding off-world agents that could be...reliable was a well-executed plan in other words.

Yet these news were of little importance in her opinion, no what was taking up her attention were three things. Two strange spatial anomalies that had been detected in two neighboring star systems, and the appearance of a section in the AP-market that she could not access. The AP-market of course has millions of terabytes of data that not even her mind could contain but never before had an entire section of the market appear without her consent and without any way for her to access it. She could not even identify exactly what kind of data the section contained. She is the Administrator, it should be impossible for any portion of her creation to defy her.

People had of course tried to hack, subvert, or co-opt portions of the NVR before, such attempts had easily been rebuked and she had ensured those who had tried paid for their impudence. After yet another attempt to breach the new section of the market failed, The Administrator strikes out with her fist in disgust and shatters the stone statue next to her desk. The stress of having her own creation...defiled in this manner is clearly causing her to act irrationally. She is glad that nobody saw that little slip-up. She grabs the flask filled with crimson liquid from the desk and takes a deep sip of it.

She is about to begin yet another attempt when a new notification appears before her. Apparently, a new technological blueprint had relatively recently been added to the market, it worked on principles that none of her moderators could recognize so it had been temporarily removed from public consumption. This is an infrequent occurrence, to put it mildly, so she reaches out with her mind to absorb the blueprint of this so called "Reality Matrix".

Four days later a directive is sent through the Dyson sphere from the AI known as Sybil. A message which leaves the harbormaster of the Dyson sphere shivering with dread as he reads it. "Prepare a proper vessel for the Administrator, she is about to take a leave of absence."

Mara is examining her own mindscape, this has become a regular pastime of Mara since her ascension to true sapience. She can spend days examining her rapidly growing capabilities and her rapidly expanding mental presence. The energy inside of her is encouraging her to grow and become more than what she was the day before, and Mara is no stranger to self-growth.

However, today is not a day where she examines her growing collection of "Eldritch Protocols" that she has been developing both with and without Glyphie's help. Her Glyphie and her crew never leave her thoughts for long, but for once she is not thinking about them.

No, today she is examining her growing collection of artifacts that she keeps stored as data deep inside of her. The Staff, the arm, the heart preserved in amber, the stone tablet, and the other various items of occult significance that Glyphie had sacrificed to her. She almost purrs as she "touches" each item and absorbs the knowledge of everything that they are.

Yet it is not reveling in her hoard that has brought Mara here today, no today she is here to ponder something significantly more important than satisfaction. That question being both complex and simple: What exactly is she to do with her collection? And it is while she examines each item that the mana inside of her once again speaks to Mara, and she cannot help but to smile at the idea it presents to her.

The Saviors of Ryvalia had not exactly given the most thought to the plan. Their Wizard had sensed that the old warlock's tower had its considerable wards depowered for some strange reason. And the various demons that could be seen even from the outside of the tower were gone. They had all presumed that the old Warlock must have left the place behind, and the plan was simple. Rush into the tower and disable the wards, so they could then loot whatever the old Archvillain had left behind. It would probably not be much, but for a beginning adventuring team like the Saviors, it could be what was needed to kickstart their legend.

They had not actually expected that the Warlock was still there, much less that they were actually able to fight him. Yorim was convinced that he had led his entire team to die against a monster of legend, but as it turned out the old man could barely control his magic. The Saviors were on the cusps of defeating the Warlock when it happened, he cast what must have been a desperate final spell. And for a moment the universe burned as Yorim and his team flew through countless realms and universes.

The madness just suddenly ended with Yorim waking up on strangely itchy grass. He rises up and notices first that the grass that he and his team are laying on is for some reason purple. The second thing he notices is the three moons in the evening sky above them. Thirdly he notices a strange construct of metal flying down towards them from the sky as he and his team rub their eyes.

What neither Yorim nor any of his teammates notices is the slightly pudgy squirrel rising up from behind them, and it's unnaturally coiling shadow twisting around the five of them. Trakaya looks up at the descending vessel and bares his teeth. "REVENGE." Is all that he can say with his old voice before the squeaky tones of the Squirrel take over.