Grooms! Nobody cared! Among the existing groom alts, but the rest of the officers cared quite a bit. The swollen appendix to the healthy body that was the annual bridal event, the annual groom spotlight gave everyone a chance to think about which dudes might get an alt for once. Tongues tired of pronouncing the usuals rejoiced at the chance to shape less-used names, and neither did pens resent writing novel predictions in place of crossing out “Quircy Rau” and writing “Skaya” next to it.

The likeliest candidates, Hilliarde Feablas and Havamal for example, remained composed and dignified during the lead-up and even the day of. That was part of what made them the likeliest candidates in the first place. The less likely lads, as they would be called if they banded together to play British pub rock, understood that and did their best Hilliarde impressions so that the rowdiness levels of Freegate fell below “casual” and down into “tedious.”

As for decorations, recent arrival [Plemo]Diora[tule] was assigned the responsibility of hanging a banner that said “Way to Go!” on the walls where it would not obscure the monitor. That would suffice, everyone agreed. And she did it, too, though she encountered some criticism regarding the fact that she put it up herself.

“What are the Rares to do? At this point we may as well organize them into teams and make them play baseball against each other. The real contest will be guesses as to how long it takes them to realize each team needs another fielder, and the real appeal comes when there's a new guest fielder for each team every week.” King Ostros looked around, hoping for a chuckle, but instead Society Page Lasva dragged him off and engaged him in furious negotiations over broadcast rights.

While the bride reveals and the event accompanying them received a full stream, the grooms got less. Not as much less as they deserved, but less. The game news did at least announce the date and time of the short unveiling video, and for that reason the officers knew when to run for the dining room all at once and get stuck in the doorway. “We may have to expand this place,” Eten mused as he stood in the back and shoved along with some Rares and even a couple of Commons who had shown up, dressed to the nines in their actual gear. His listeners nodded and wondered if he was the lucky guy this year, and if so, whether his suit's sleeves would be torn.

One of two lucky guys of course, if the previous year set a precedent. Which it did. The reveal video proved it. Ultra Rare Tailored Jonathan, a new Inferno Harasser, and Super Rare Tailored Bel, the latest Quake Medic! Who could have guessed? Far more people than did the brides. Night Shift Lynissia collected another voucher, this one for one item from the dinner menu of Radiant Illusion Country's new banquet system (an addition to its field cultivation feature), as did several other officers. Even Jonathan Brightwater had not scrupled to predict himself, thus coining the adage that the wages of arrogance are a delicious Chinese meal.

An adage quickly forgotten when the video turned out to be double-long and quintuple-exciting. The Commandment of Hero: Ersatz Struggle logo appeared, and as a consequence everyone choked the officer to his right so as to ensure silence in the room. The officer farthest left on either side of each table was still free to talk, which they solved by having the rightmost on the side across lean over to complete the circuit.

Hands tightened on throats as Count Poitnem appeared as the third or fourth fighter, depending on puppet math. Only a little, since every hand-owner saw that one coming. They tightened a little more when the exhibition showed off all his projectiles, lots of projectiles, oodles of them, and implicitly declared him to be the officer filling the zoner role that every Warper and Harasser considered his own by right. Except for Skaya, who punched people with magic, and a few Harassers here and there. Dual-wielders mostly. All the rest began wondering things such as, “Can I qualify as a shoto with slightly better offense but worse defense than Cadmos?” or “Do I have a twin sister to act as my puppet?” Grips relaxed as more and more officers concluded themselves able to answer at least one of those questions in the affirmative.

Then they tightened up so hard that every head in the room would have popped off and shot up to the ceiling if pure surprise had not at that moment spread throughout their bodies from their hairs to their heels, both fortifying them against outside interference while also preventing the deliberate operation of their limbs. Marileanna! Was sitting there, but also appeared on the big screen, raking and tridenting her way into the viewers' hearts, just putting Cadmos in the corner and going nuts, relentlessly barbaric stuff.

The video ended and so did peace. Cacophony was the inevitable follow-up, and after that, more cacophony. Third came more cacophony. After that, calm, measured discussion. Dosellian Urapta started to say, “Marileanna appears to have been implemented as a rushdown character, which means . . .” That sufficed. They all figured they knew what the term meant.

Count Poitnem thanked in graceful words his many, many well-wishers, some of whom had dug out their “Poitnem #1” hats and foam fingers. Marileanna said nothing in any sort of words, graceful or otherwise. She was too busy doing laps around the hall, slapping hands or anything else within reach along the way to acknowledge her own well-wishers and not-especially-ill-wishers. The especially-ill-wisher community consisted entirely of older bumans who had just seen their hope of nabbing a token inclusion grow, bloom, and be harvested by someone who chanced to walk by in the right season.

Cadmos made the usual congratulatory speech for the new alts and repeated it for the Ersatz Struggle entrants with a few terms changed. As he was summing up, Quille Treten requested the floor. “That's highly irregular, Quille. Normally officers just interrupt me. I'd be happy to turn it over to you.”

Quille moved to the center of the room, stroked his beard, looked thoughtful, which was a lie, and began. “The thing today seems to be forming fan clubs around the spinoff to do something or other. Don't entirely understand it. What I do know is that while Count Poitnem has had a fan club for quite some time now, it's quite a different thing. Membership in the one in no way implies membership in the other. Well, Count Poitnem is just about the most decent high rarity there is, so I'll be happy to join this new one. Who's with me?”

“Hurrah!” shouted a society of officers, though they perhaps considered the Rare as being with them rather than the other way around. Hilliarde Feablas, Leslie Harthorpe, Adigail Zem, Zimley Boe, Kindo, Eten, Skaya, Hyune Giling, and Reginald all declared themselves supporters of the new fighter in approximate gameplay tier list order, making that the politest faction formed to that point. Even more so if Reginald shut his dumb trap.

Uryeong, the first of the brand-new ursit race and therefore indistinguishable from the general run of humans, jumped right out of her chair into the middle next to Quille. She shouted a bold challenge to the existing hierarchy. “If he gets to speak, so do I!”

Tiboleus the Experimenter, a more non-brand-new kind of officer, delivered the response of the entrenched power structures. “You get to speak no matter what. He's the one we might have shut down, but I guess all these announcements have us feeling pretty indulgent.”

“Oh. Huh. OK, I'm going to talk now! Here goes. Well, well, well, isn't that just predictable that all those old officers are in the corner of that other old officer!”

“It is, since we have known Count Poitnem for long enough to consider him deserving of inclusion in Ersatz Struggle.” Hilliarde Feablas nodded to the count, who nodded back in mutual respect.

“Yeah, that makes sense. No, that's not what I wanted to say! You crusty old officers all despise the new ones! That's why you're slapping Marileanna's hand so enthusiastically! It's to raise welts. Don't think we'll stand for it forever. I declare the formation of Team New Blood!” Uryeong raised her fist and struck so powerful a pose that Cadmos ought to have resigned his position as main character on the spot had he any shame, the ability to do that, or no bold poses of his own.

Clazdius Oranio clapped. “A largely false speech, I believe, but the enthusiasm is refreshing. I'll most assuredly help you youngsters so far as I can.”

“You can't help but get worked up when you see that kind of verve,” Flawless Pedigree agreed. “Member Number Three is right here.”

Embarrassed that the faction of youth-oriented revolution began its existence as two-thirds old guys, the gacha's freshest offerings from the last few months lined up to join. Smidgen, Fusberta, Ozric Orn Pallad, Wruden Calx, Gary Whitecrest, Aurebecktoemnire (Beckt to his friends), Refleang, Captain Hwanimesca, and Plemodioratule (Diora to officers who feigned friendship with her to avoid having to say all that) all made their stand and stared at Crown After Crown, the most recent centaur added.

“They introduced me ages ago, halfway through Part 2. Think of me as a member of the old guard who's fashionably late. Right, Lynie?” He waved at Night Shift Lynissia, a fellow competitor in the grand tournament of Enzet where Cadmos encountered the two of them during the beloved main story. She waved back.

Cadmos seized the floor back during the distraction. “I couldn't be happier than to see the way the roster is shaping up, or so I thought until I saw the incredible support you guys are giving all of us. I was afraid I would have to call in favors and give out bribes to achieve something you did naturally on your own. 'I'll wait to see who's the most popular and hop on the bandwagon!' I can't believe I ever suspected something like that might happen. Have the two new fan clubs come up with any concrete goals yet? Anything we can help with?”

Hilliarde Feablas spoke first for Team Count Poitnem's a Swell Fellow, or Team Civilized as Skaya ended up labeling it. “I expect that our fighter's, ah, 'frame data' I believe it's called?” He looked around for confirmation. After finding it in expressions, nods, thumbs-up, and a placard that explained the importance of frames through a series of easy-to-understand diagrams, he continued. “That his frame data will at first be quite as risible as Dosellian Urapta found Cadmos's. After all, long, flashy animations are generally a sign of effort and budget. Our first concern must be to acclimate him to this other genre's expectations.”

“That sounds very practical. Team New Blood?”

Smidgen fielded that one. “We should spy on the other teams and try to customize Marileanna's moves to give her winning matchups against all of them! I shouldn't have said that in public! Forget you heard that!”

Count Poitnem bowed. “Certainly,” he promised so elegantly that everyone there felt bound by that promise regardless of team affiliation.

“I just had an idea,” Zimley Boe said. “Suppose we spy on the other fighters. Then we figure out moves to counter them so that our Poitnem will win more than he loses against them.”

“Wow! I wish I'd thought of that!” Smidgen rushed over to be the first Strategist to shake Zimley's hand, realized hydras had no such appendage, and stood aside to let Beans Istemus take his turn.

Conviviality reigned in the dining hall as it ought after every announcement and sometimes did. Every officer knew where he stood. The other fan clubs were the enemy, zany schemes could be openly acknowledged, and the devs were pushing Bel Felicitous Fasde again. Would a well-fitting waistcoat elevate his appeal to the players compared to that half-buttoned shirt he wore previously? And why a waistcoat?

“Weren't we expecting grooms? They've strayed from the theme, I think,” Captain Hwanimesca pointed out.

“Yes. This may affect my picks for next time. Oh, thank you, and good luck to you next year. Very kind of you.” Jonathan Brightwater had a lot to do between updating his predictions and acknowledging all that courtesy flying around. The spinoff sideshow did not relieve regular officers of their core responsibilities, after all.