“Strange times, eh?” Magoi asked, glancing at the empty frame in the I.D. Gate.

“When are they not?” John returned and reached for an intact door.

“True enough,” the fellow answered from behind his raptor-skull mask, following John through the door. His wife was right there with him, as was John’s harem. Even Lydia had freed up the time. Initially, she had wanted to come over just to make up for the days they had been away from each other. Now she could spend three weeks with him.

Because of the circumstances, John hadn’t been able to get his monthly grinding session in yet and, in order to get the maximum benefit out of things, he and Magoi had agreed to put two sessions back to back. That extended the usual ten-day program to twenty-one days (the one extra day being created from a couple percentage point above the perfect 1000% time dilation that usually went unnoticed).

The houses were created, as usual, and John quickly retreated to the western one. As was usual, the harem went through the motions of stowing things away. They started by leaving their shoes (and, in Lydia’s case, Strimata) in the entrance area. Once they were in the living room, they spread out a little bit to get comfortable. Only the Gamer was feeling somewhat tense, as he gestured for the German queen to sit down with him.

Lydia wore a stern and worried expression when she gracefully lowered herself onto the couch. “What have you been hiding, my love?” she asked.

John blew air out of his nose in an amused fashion. ‘Of course, she knows,’ he thought. He had been acting slightly awkward around her since she had come through the teleporter. “There’s more to the recent events than I told you,” he started. “I didn’t want to run the slightest risk of discovery, so the phone just wasn’t secure enough…”

“I understand, John,” Lydia cut him off. “I need no justifications for your secrecy. Reveal to me what you can.” While she spoke, her eyes travelled up and down his body. Still hidden by clothes, she wouldn’t be able to see too much, and so she gently ran her hands over it. She was searching for any wounds he didn’t tell her about.

“I’ll tell you everything,” he guaranteed her with a little smile and put an arm around her. “There is nothing immediately worrying, but a thing that has… terrible implications for the future.”

“Delay it no longer, then,” Lydia told him, leaning into his embrace even as her steel grey eyes drilled into him.

“Remus is likely going to come back.”

Although she kept her expression straight, John could feel every single muscle in her body tense inside her body. A very slow and methodical breath escaped her. “Tell me everything.” John did. He told the entire tale of the Gestalt that had unfolded over the past nine days and left nothing out. Not his theory regarding Remus and not the things he had discussed with Izha.

John was still debating whether he wanted the wider public to know that the leading consciousness of the Lorylim had once been a human. While he personally abhorred censorship, this was the kind of knowledge that may have led people, particularly those critical of the Gamer, down the darkest of paths. He was leaning towards making it public, his faith in humanity was strong enough to believe that only those that would indulge in those dark arts with or without that information would be further encouraged by it.

After he had said everything, Lydia was massaging her temples with both hands. “This could lead to the collapse of the current world order.”

“Or it could be nothing,” John told her.

“Or,” Salamander chimed in, “it could lead to the reunification of the two brothers.” Nobody even bothered to grace that with a response that exceeded a look. Nobody but Sylph, who floated by at a crawling pace.

“I think that could happen, yes, maybe, uncertainly, possibly it could. Maybe they’ll be like ‘BROTHER! I AM PINNED HERE! IT’S A BAAAAAAANEBLAAAAAAAADE!’” She giggled a whole lot, before adding, “No, but seriously, been ten-thousand years, what do you know maybe they’ll make up? You don’t know. I checked! I looked into your brains and checked! You don’t know! You’re so much smarter than me and you don’t know, so nobody knows what’ll happen.”

Drily, Salamander said, “Thank you, Sylph.”

Siena’s tail drummed on the floor. “It annoys me when she makes sense.”

“Meanie! You aren’t supposed to be mean, Siena! You’re a big softie. A softie with big soft boobies.”

“To this day, I have not figured out how you function.”

“Words come out here,” Sylph pointed at her bright smile. “Dick goes in here, here and here,” she pointed at her mouth, pussy and back entrance. Her leotard conveniently disappeared in the process. “Sometimes thoughts form in here, but I don’t usually bother. You all take the thinking bit and I’ll keep lifting the mood! We all do what we are good at!”

“Can’t disagree with that, can ya?” Rave asked, plopping down next to John. Both women were snuggling up to him with calm nerves and a generally happy mood. Sylph’s babbling had taken the shock out of the situation. “We live, learn and move on. No sense getting stuck on all the awful stuff going on.”

Regardless, Lydia was too straightlaced to just let things go. “While it may be impossible to predict a certain way these current events will peter out, preparing for the worst is wise. Your task force continues to search for the place where Remus may rise, correct?”

“Mine and Richard’s, yes,” John told her and raised an eyebrow when Lydia rubbed her chin. “No protest?” he asked. “I expected you to throw me at least a minor lecture about not trusting the Rat.”

“You know as much without me berating you, my love,” Lydia answered. “Disregarding the issue of trust, the Horned Rat is likely to act in ways that will not harm our interests. That much I’m certain of.”

John’s eyebrow rose that little bit higher, but he decided to let the issue go. “Well, the good thing is that you will have quite a bit of time to come up with your own measures regarding this.” Kissing Lydia’s forehead, he pivoted the topic away from things they currently had no influence over. “Unless I get an emergency call during our stay here, I plan to get quite a bit done. For a start, I want to hack away at all of the Class Levels I have piled up.”

“How many were that again?” Metra asked, her question underlined by the slow rise of a string cord sound. It reverberated from Rex Magnar, the weapon showing a level of glee from the way Metra polished its prismatic edges with a sponge.

“30,” John responded. Since getting the Balancing the Sheet Perk, he had only gotten the opportunity to fulfil a single Class Challenge – and it hadn’t been enough to get the level. Raiding while he benefited from Magoi’s Fateweaving was the usual approach of things, but in the current climate he would make the best use of the additional time itself. “I still want to go do Instant Dungeon content, be that Raids, Adventures or Assaults, but first I want to clear early and easy Class Levels for everything I’m interested in. That should take me a week or so.”

“Is Harem Gamer on the menu? Please tell me Harem Gamer is on the menu! You just got all of your magical dick powers back and I want more! More I say! Rile me good, Johnny! Ride this lightning!”

“Statement: the last declared Classes of interest were Arcanist, Unfound and Fateweaver,” Beatrice told everyone. “Question: does Master wish to adjust this list, at this time?”

“I’d say that I want to get at least one level in Negotiator, Martial Artist and Harem Gamer, just to check the Perks out,” John added and then sighed. “Just sad that the next two levels of Fateweaver won’t get me anything… I hope the rest will be great to compensate…” The lost levels were 4 and 5, which were among the less painful to lose access to. Perks from level 6 onwards were, usually, where the bread was buttered.

“What about Metracana Master?” Metra wanted to know.

“What about fucking Breeder?!” Eliza asked, temporarily stopping in her quest to kiss the Magryph in her arms.

Velka cawed, as if to ask about the Tamer Class.

“Metracana Master is probably worth a consideration as well,” John conceded that point. “Bit hesitant to invest into it when I don’t have any other Metracanas to put under contract, but I guess a couple more points there wouldn’t hurt. Artificial Spirit should also max out in the next few hours, so that’s another thing to keep my eyes on.”

“Alrighty.” Rave got up from the couch and grabbed the lower edge of her top. “If you’re going to focus on Classes, I’ll take the days to do some of my own regular training. Imma go and get into my yoga pants.”

John’s eyes would have been stuck following her walk away, had it not been for the ruby lips entering his field of view.

“My love,” Lydia sweetly cooed into his ear, the hands that had inspected him earlier now gripping his muscles in a demanding fashion, “answer me truthfully, would you happen to have a Class Challenge that demands sexual attention?”

“What if I don’t?” John asked teasingly, sliding his hand between her skin and pants to feel her firm ass.

“Then I will chase you out of this house with thorns of metal.” Lydia’s threat was spoken in a lustful whisper, but the hardness in her eyes didn’t allow any doubts about the validity of the threat. An expectant, clear sound rang out and Lydia pulled back to look at the rapier that laid next to her on the couch. Clicking her tongue, she pulled away and grabbed Strimata by the handle. With a series of protesting high notes, the prismatic rapier was carried back to the entrance area.

John heard one last note and the sound of the guard slamming against the sheathe. About a minute later, Lydia returned, the sheathed Strimata in hand. The weapon quivered in protest against bindings of metal strings keeping it in its confinement. Sounds like a glockenspiel a hundred metres away echoed softly.

“It seems your weapon has an attitude,” the Gamer pointed out.

“Its flamboyant insistence of commenting on every aspect of my life with its ringing tones is making me almost wish to cast it into a blast furnace,” Lydia responded and pulled the strings a little bit tighter. A last, panicked note was heard, then Strimata was completely confined. “Furthermore, it nullifies whatever debt I may have felt towards you for bestowing me with something as extraordinarily powerful and valuable as this weapon.”

“That’s good then, you shouldn’t feel indebted for a birthday present.” John grinned and was lightly tapped on the head with the blunt sheath.

“Spare me your sass, my love, I get enough of it from this.” She put the weapon on the table. Occasionally, it quivered, making it move over the table as if it was placed in a room with too much bass drums. “Did I yet tell you how Strimata embarrassed me when I spoke at a meeting of minor lords from my domain?”

“Can’t say you told me that story before, no.” It must have happened while he was occupied.

“It decided to ‘sing’ Hall of the Mountain King. I, at first, assumed it to be a simple choice of background music, but I soon had to discover my very own weapon was making a mockery of my speech.” Lydia glared at the weapon with fury so intense, Strimata managed to quiver a few centimetres over the table’s surface. “When I decided to leave it behind for my next meeting due to that occurrence, it decided to utilize its relocation enchantment to follow me against my will.”

“Did it sing anything awful at that time?” John wanted to know.

“No, its tunes are quite pleasant, this is not the issue.”

“Shame.”

“Shame? Why would the one pleasant thing about Strimata’s dispositions to annoy me be a shame?!” Lydia was getting quite agitated, letting John know he really shouldn’t say what he wanted to.

He did it regardless. “Because that would make it an Ear Rape-ier.”

While John, and much of the remaining harem, laughed, Lydia threw herself on top of him and grabbed his collar with both hands. “You really are quite insufferable sometimes, my love,” she stated, poison and love in her greyish-blue eyes.

“And you are beautiful,” John answered, putting his hands on her hips. “Smart, powerful, strong of will, rich in wealth, influence and vocabulary. Everything and more than I could ever want out of a single woman. Way more than I deserve, especially since you aren’t my only one.”

“Sweet talk will not get you forgiveness.”

“Then what will?” he asked, fully knowing that the answer lay in the little gyrating of those royal hips on top of his groin.