The Spear of Destiny hung above Holy Terra, poised to fulfill humanity's inevitable domination of the multiverse.

Five kilometers long, it was designed to be fully self-sufficient when at fifty percent or greater capacity.

Jamal Cooper stood on the bridge, looking out over the ship. He wore his powered armor save for the helm, a deliberately considered statement of confidence in the Spear of Destiny's safety.

"Mr. Cooper, there are more than a few people who are asking a single question: why?"

The reporter would have been considered tall, at a few inches over six feet, but he looked like a child in comparison to Jamal's own eleven feet six inches, which was then elevated another three inches by his armor.

"Because it is our destiny to seed the universe, that humanity might flourish on as many worlds as it possibly can," Jamal replied.

"Many wrote your group's efforts off as boys being boys, having a bit of a laugh, on a lark," the reporter continued. "You've chosen to model this ship after a fantasy wargaming model, as well as imitating other aspects of that intellectual property, including your armor. You've spent hundreds of millions of mana crystals building this ship, which I've been assured by aeronautical engineers isn't just somewhat odd but criminally impractical."

Jamal smiled grimly. "Fools," he replied flatly, before gesturing broadly across the bridge.

"All of you are so enamored with the System and it's possibilities that you've chosen to ignore one of the single great truths," he shook his head. "We've already experienced firsthand that the System is not a panacea, haven't we? In fact, it has arguably made things worse." He raised his hand to forestall the reporter who had opened his mouth to interrupt.

"Prior to the System Integration, Holy Terra cradled eight billion human souls. We lost twenty percent of humanity in the weeks that followed the integration, and even now, due to the need to gather strength, that remains twice as many as can be comfortably hosted." Jamal's voice had coarsened to a growl. "Yes, we now have the cure for cancer, and we can extend our lives, but at what cost?"

"The question remains," the reporter seemed uneasy, "why not just build an exploratory vessel, like so many others? We've already seen success in discovering new worlds."

"Because we have to be prepared for war," Jamal said harshly. "We've met two other races, one of which was barely hanging on, and the other was primitive beyond belief and had to be rescued by us. But I have information regarding a third species that is engaged in a millennia-long conflict with a fourth, the foot soldiers of both at tier eight, with tier fourteen commanders." He shook his head. "We have to be prepared for the fact that conflict is inevitable. While we plan to offer our hand in friendship to anyone we might meet out there, it's important to have the capability to clench that hand into an armored fist should they prove to have less charitable intentions."

"You're planning to go to war?" The reporter asked incredulously.

Jamal smiled crookedly. "We're planning to be ready for the inevitable. We built the Spear of Destiny because humanity needed that armored fist, and no one else was willing to step up."

Bob was running.

He had to.

He couldn't miss his chance.

He leapt onto a moss-covered boulder, and with a wordless roar hurled himself off, swinging his clenched fists in a mighty two handed blow.

His fists bounced off the armored helm of the monster, the reverberation causing his hands to tingle.

The monster didn't notice.

It was too busy stabbing its spear at Jake's heavily armored hide.

Bob rolled backward just in time as his pack of Eternal Servant UtahRaptors descended on the monster, tearing it to shreds in a second.

He sprung to his feet and ran after his dinosaurs, which were already rushing to the next group of monsters.

He was speed-running the Dungeon, having long since identified the exact patterns and locations of the monsters within. His summoned monsters were rushing to clear the Dungeon while Bob tried to keep up, attacking whenever he could in an attempt to level his Melee School and Natural Attack skills.

The cardio was also good for him.

The System didn't do anything to keep you in shape. If you sat around all day and didn't exercise, you would lose muscle tone. Alex had said that there was a group researching the correlation between the Strength attribute, physical conditioning, and actual, applicable strength. Preliminary results indicated that your Strength attribute represented your maximum potential strength, which could be reached and maintained by regular strenuous physical activity.

Bob had always exercised, but he'd wondered if he couldn't save himself the time by merging that effort into his Dungeon delves.

Sadly, his UtahRaptors, even the Eternal Servants cast as a barrage, were entirely focused on physical attributes, which meant they were exponentially faster than he was. He had to push himself as hard as possible to reach the battle before they'd slain the last monster.

He was focusing on controlling his breathing as he sprinted after the pack when Trebor's voice distracted him, causing him to stumble to a halt.

'Done,' the AI sounded satisfied.

"Fuck yeah," Bob gasped as he stumbled into a jog.

'I wouldn't have interrupted you, but I received an odd notification when I selected my final threshold bonus,' Trebor continued.

Bob blinked as a blue System screen appeared in front of him.

System Notice.

User Robert Whitman, ID 40816G1407N3210ISS3PM1IO, has been represented by an amalgamation of user memories in an attempt to replicate instructional actions taken by the user during previous interactions. These representations are immaterial and are not capable of interaction beyond visual and auditory instruction. Users are currently expending energy crystals to maintain these representations.

You may choose to have your companion AI take control of these representations in order to ensure accuracy. Doing so will eliminate the need to continue to expend energy crystals to maintain the representations, requiring only the initial expenditure. To that end, a specific ritual will be generated to standardize the process.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Choosing to take control of these representations will reduce the number of the companion AI's Threshold bonuses available for use as determined by the following formula.

Eighth Threshold bonus lost = 8 representations controlled.

Seventh Threshold bonus lost = 64 representations controlled.

Sixth Threshold bonus lost = 512 representations controlled.

Fifth Threshold bonus lost = 4,096 representations controlled.

Fourth Threshold bonus lost = 32,768 representations controlled.

Third Threshold bonus lost = 262,144 representations controlled.

Second Threshold bonus lost = 2,097,152 representations controlled.

First Threshold bonus lost = 16,777,216 representations controlled.

Current representations manifested 5,554.

User may alter the allowable number of Threshold bonuses lost through their interface.

Would you like to have your companion AI take control of these representations?

Mentally project or verbally select 'Yes, take control' or 'No, do not take control.'

Bob slowed, his breathing less labored. "What the fuck?"

'Apparently, someone has decided to use memories of you to create a facsimile,' Trebor gave a mental shrug.

It was one of the advantages of Trebor having leveled up that Bob could now get a sense of the AI. When he wasn't busy piloting Jake, Trebor could actually appear, visually, in front of him, which Bob thought was awesome.

"Why?" Bob asked.

'The System hasn't provided that information,' Trebor replied. 'I imagine that if we choose the option to have me take control, we will find out.'

"There's no downside, right?" Bob muttered as he slowed down to a fast walk. "We can always set the number of Threshold bonuses lost to none." He shrugged. "Yes, take control."

"Strike, move, strike!" The hologram shouted. "Remember the three letters that spell success! A-Always, B-Be, K-Killing!"

Mohinder was gasping for breath as he struck home with his spear.

As advertised, the holograms were demanding in the extreme, pushing them all to their limits, then dragging them across that line.

What wasn't advertised was that the holograms weren't that reactive. The only time they reacted to the environment was when the person who cast the spells to get them started was there.

It had been explained that the spells were linked to the person who cast the ritual to get them going, and they only had so many people who cast what was effectively a system-less custom ritual.

That had been a revelation for Mohinder, who hadn't even known it was possible to cast magic without the System.

He stumbled, but was caught and pulled back up by Shanti, who was on just behind him. "Stay focused!"

She was gasping for breath as well.

Together with Samira, and another boy named Tavi, they shuffled down the trail. Experience had taught them that there would be three more monsters just around the corner.

The hologram was keeping pace with them, when it suddenly stopped, and flickered.

Mohinder paused, holding out an arm to keep the rest of the group behind him.

"What?" Samira asked tiredly.

"Look at it," Mohinder gestured toward the flickering, frozen hologram. "Something is happening."

"Should we be stopping though?" Tavi asked. "We're supposed to keep moving, yes?"

The hologram stopped flickering. In an oddly human movement, it rolled its head around, shrugging its shoulders.

"You think you're tired?" Bob asked softly. "You don't know tired," he shook his head. "You haven't faced down a horde of monsters numbering in the millions, bearing down on you and the ones you love, eager to exploit any opportunity, any mistake that you might make to kill not only you but your family, your loved ones, your friends," he finished in a whisper.

Bob appeared to take a breath. "You want to be Adventurers?" He asked, seeming to wait until they had all nodded their heads. "This is what it's about," Bob said. "It's about putting in the work, pushing yourself when you don't think you have anything left to give. You have to ask yourselves, do you have what it takes? Because there are three more monsters waiting around that corner if you think you have what it takes."

Mohinder looked around but couldn't see anyone else. He had no idea why the hologram had changed, but that didn't matter. It was right. Bob was right.

"Let's get moving."

"Lord Wrathsbane," one of the priestess addressed him, sketching a bow.

Yorrick suppressed a wince. He would have rather they didn't address him with that title, regardless of the accuracy. He was all too well aware that his secondary cardinal sin was Pride, and being addressed with honorifics was a little too pleasing.

"Yes, Neara?" He acknowledged her.

"My Lord, we were feeding crystals into the ritual formations when we received this notification," Neara said as she shared a System window with him.

New Ritual Skill Available.

School - Invocation.

'Eternal Shepherd'

This ritual will summon a non-corporeal avatar of the user Robert Whitman. This Avatar will provide instructions for dispersing manifestations in a Dungeon for a group of up to eight individuals. To activate this ritual, target the entrance to the Dungeon. The Avatar will be able to enter and exit the Dungeon with its pupils. The Avatar will exist for a number of hours equal to the user's tier, currently eight.

The user is able to determine the maximum number of Avatars that may be available concurrently. Current maximum number of Avatars: 32,768. User will be notified if additional Avatars are requested beyond the current maximum, and may or may not be willing to allocate more of their resources to allow for more Avatars to be summoned.

Restriction: This skill requires the veneration of the user Robert Whitman.

"Some of the candidates came out of the Dungeons with the Holograms following them," Neara continued. "The Holograms are acting like Avatars."

Yorrick began to laugh, a chuckle at first, but shifting into an all-out roar as he pounded his knees, face turning red as he gasped for breath.

"Mor'Noctum's blessed Darkness and Bael's cold flames," he wheezed between gales of laughter. "He just can't help himself, can he?"

"My Lord?" Neara asked hesitantly.

Yorrick shook his head and held up his hands. "Give me a moment," he chortled as he brought himself under control.

Neara waited patiently.

"Mr. Whitman is truly the gift that keeps on giving," Yorrick smiled. "I imagine that using this ritual will improve the quality of the instruction, as well as significantly reducing our expenditure of mana crystals," he said thoughtfully.

"Yes," Neara agreed, producing a tablet and handing it to Yorrick, pointing at a row of columns on the display. "As you can see we were paying one hundred and fifty-six crystals for eight hours. Having that cost reduced to one hundred crystals is a substantial savings."

Yorrick nodded. Of course, it was rare for a dedicated, level-capped ritualist to not have some sort of cost reduction built into their path, which meant that almost no one was actually paying the full one hundred and fifty-six crystals. It was understood that any cost reduction simply meant that the caster would pocket the crystals they'd saved.

It was an incentive that encouraged efficiency and served as a lure for anyone who was on the fence when considering their path.

"I take it that the problem is the requirement to purchase a new ritual, one that requires you to venerate Bob?" Yorrick asked.

"Yes, My Lord," Neara replied, dipping her head. "I'm afraid that while Mr. Whitman has the respect of the clergy, veneration is very rare."

Yorrick nodded. Mor'Noctum was not a jealous mistress, allowing the worship of any other without prejudice. You could accept a divine blessing of Vi'Radia. Still, faith being what it was, most priests tended toward monotheism.

"The Endless tend to venerate Bob," Yorrick murmured thoughtfully. "More the ones from Thayland, but a surprising number of their membership from Earth, considering their rampant atheism." He nodded. "Send an email to the Endless leadership explaining the need for people who venerate Bob and who can spend a point or two to pick up the new ritual. Go ahead and text them as well once the email has been sent, asking them to check for it."

Robert Whitman, He Who Walks Before, The Reef, The Redeemer, Light Bringer, Lord of Blight, Harbringer of Tribulations, [Eternal Shepherd]

Venerating this being allows you to allocate skill points to share in some of his skills.

Mana Sight

Mana Manipulation

Enduring Sphere - Arcane

Summon Mana-Infused Object [Reclaimed Skill]