They did not. They enjoyed baroque compositions, clean uniforms, and forging the stars into a chain of empire. Who could recall what befell that day? Who, out of chaos, could pluck truth? Cataloguing decided to answer that by asking a bunch of people.

“As a summary, I guess I'd say they blew us up,” Kindo said.

“Sorry if I only noticed what I noticed, but the important part was that when we died away from the spawn area we respawned there, but when they killed us there, that booted us to Opuwa.” That observation from pony-tailed Rare Champion Clyse received confirmation from SR Warrior Weaponlord, an expert in death and the results thereof, and a few others who had not escaped to the exit fountain fast enough.

A giant, technically an SSR Ogre, who wished to go under the enigmatic code name “Ecke” concentrated on the human aspect. “At the stadium, we were met by crews enough for that parking lot, yes, that and more. It was that lady whose poise was of such a nature that an academy of military arts doubtless strives to impart it to all that pass through its halls, whose short green cape and uniform of red-yellow with trim of gold braid reflected centuries, nay, millennia of martial tradition accrued by the navy in which she served who spoke for the rest, telling us this, that Furious Galaxy had declared the game in which we then stood to be a protectorate, which claim she intended to enforce should we not depart forthwith. Not liking that, we stood our ground till the ground itself buckled under that bombardment.”

“Fission, fusion, meson. If it ends in 'N,' they have it. The destroyers emptied their tubes, battleship guns bombarded us, and those carriers weren't empty, I can tell you that. What else is there to say?” UR Champion True Beryllia shrugged.

Lots of things. Quircy Rau said quite a few of them to Information Gathering, who sent back a few of their own. “We worked on the projects we were assigned. 'Why are you wasting your time following Furious Galaxy around? That's not very Quircy of you.' If you can see another you in another timeline saying that, then reconsider your criticism in this one.”

“I can say with complete honesty that I can't see me ever saying that except on a bet, Wruden Calx. But I get your point. New priority! Find out who has figured out how to move around Opuwa. Find out how they do it. Also find out where else we can get party supplies.”

“SHTB,” Inorrea Vacationer said.

“Do you go spying with that mouth?”

“That's Styleful Happy!! The Battle,” one of Information Gathering's blue-haired underlings clarified to spare the higher rarities the trouble. “It's an action-RPG that's older than To the Live, from back when Styleful Happy!! hadn't abandoned its premise about the core cast having crazy adventures themed around different outfits because the idol episodes just did so much better than everything else, not at first, but later, so they made To the Live and it blew The Battle away, financially. But The Battle's still up, and they have glowsticks, but not as many.”

“Everybody! We're going to Styleful Happy!! The Battle! Mount up!” Quircy turned back to her spies. “Everybody except you. You'll be gathering information. I want an intelligence advantage over our hated enemies.”

“I hope it's not reciprocal,” Serdon Miloz said. “I don't love to be hated, and I don't love being a Commandment of Hero-specific race trying to go undercover.”

“Oh.” Quircy looked over Serdon, Wruden, and Ruthven. “Ohhhhh. Um. How's this? Since your duties have expanded. Your personnel will too!”

“And our budget?”

“Your glowstick budget, sure, if you're right about The Battle.”

The speed of the host's mobilization outstripped Quircy's expectations to the extent that she had to rush up the ladder propelled by honks and the fear her army would leave her behind with those terrible science fiction people in SHTTL above, with their psychic powers and leather jackets. “Roll out!” she shouted when she made it next to Vinnette Melban. “I don't have a lecture prepared. I have two things though. First is an inspirational speech, straight from the heart.”

“No need,” Ivar yelled. “The promise of slaughter is inspiration enough for any warrior.”

“Great! That helps me out, since I didn't have a speech ready. The second thing is more important anyway. Hm, let me see.” She moseyed to the left, skipped to the right, and surveyed the host for candidates, though not the Paradise the Enchant kind. Out to port, as Vinnette did not insist on calling left or call left herself, she sighted a future star of espionage. “Bridal alts fit in everywhere! That's Enid Rosefield, right? Wrong? Anstralia Perandra? Aerywe Beruvo? The other Beruvo?” After seeing Vinnette's thumbs-up, she yelled, “Gaelvry! Did you dream of being a spy as a little princess?”

“No.”

“Do you dream about it now?”

“No.”

“Want to do it anyway? I know you like to go shopping in every game, and that you didn't like anything in Slay Every Dragon.”

“Aerywe prefers classic fantasy. I didn't need to explain that to you. Sure, I'll do it.”

“Fantastic! Information Gathering's getting a little sizable for such a sketchy organization. One recruit should be enough. Also, I think you should all swear an oath never to betray me and to refer to me as Generalissimo. For morale.”

Gaelvry, as well as everyone else, ignored that and followed Otsk V. Zops to Styleful Happy!! The Battle and battle. But battle against whom they did not know, and “against who” was right out. Would Crown of Blood show up, or Calamity Online, or a deck of cards courtesy of From Actium to Zama? Their guts processed fear into anticipation, and they rode hard.