Two agonizing weeks had passed.
Dorian was currently on his hands and knees on the floor of his bedroom, his forehead resting against the cool, polished floorboards. He let out a long, muffled groan of absolute despair.
Despite billions of players flooding the game, and despite him spending hundreds of thousands of accumulated Resonance Points on the Prince of the Renaissance banner, there was still absolutely no Animus in sight.
Instead, the Creator System was simply mocking him.
Hovering right in front of his face was the glowing blue interface. The text flared with a taunting, brightly colored progress bar: [Synchronization: 99.8%].
"Oof. Almost got it there, cousin."
Dorian didn't even lift his head. He just glared sideways.
Sitting cross-legged on the edge of Dorian's mattress was Hermes. The God of Speed was casually tossing handfuls of buttery, perfectly popped popcorn into his mouth. He had apparently stole it from a local Sela cinema before blitzing back into the house.
"Shut up," Dorian grumbled into the floorboards.
Hermes just chuckled, a mischievous, highly entertained glint in his bright eyes. He chewed loudly. "I'm just saying, you have the points now. You might as well just push through and max out your profile, cousin. End the suffering."
Dorian pushed himself up into a sitting position, wiping a layer of stressed sweat from his brow. He looked at Hermes, his mismatched eyes filled with genuine, deep-seated paranoia.
"Are you insane?" Dorian asked defensively. "Do you have any idea what could happen? What if I max out the banner and it literally brings out the entire continent of Renaissance Italy into this world? Or worse, what if it spawns the actual, physical Templar Order into the Sela night city?! I'm not dealing with Rodrigo Borgia in my backyard!"
Hermes popped another kernel into his mouth, waving his hand dismissively. "Highly unlikely. It will probably just give you the Animus machine you wanted."
Dorian froze. He slowly blinked, his paranoia momentarily shifting into sharp suspicion. He stared intently at the God of Travelers.
"What did you just say?" Dorian asked slowly.
Hermes swallowed. "I said, it will probably–" He stiffened. A rare, microscopic flash of panic crossed the god's usually unflappable face.
He abruptly clamped his mouth shut, realizing his massive blunder. He forcefully cleared his throat, awkwardly patting his toga. "Uhh... forget I said that. Look at the time! Gotta run! Lots of messages to deliver for Uncle Poseidon!"
SWOOSH. In a literal blur of displaced air and scattering popcorn kernels, Hermes blitzed entirely out of the bedroom, leaving Dorian sitting in absolute, stunned silence.
Dorian gasped.
His mind began to race, rapidly piecing the puzzle together. He recalled the last two weeks, specifically the intense, grueling tactical study sessions he had been having with Athena inside Mount Olympus.
The flashbacks hit him with sudden, glaring clarity.
…
The grand strategy room of Mount Olympus was bathed in the cool, blue-tinted light of a massive holographic projection. Suspended in the air above the obsidian table was a painstakingly detailed, three-dimensional map of the Stellar Accord territories.
Dorian stood at the edge of the table, his arms crossed, his brow furrowed in deep concentration as he tried to mentally map out Zenith Group's financial holdings.
Standing opposite him, completely unbothered by the sheer scale of the galactic economy, was Athena. The Goddess of Warfare analyzed the glowing star systems with an ancient, calculating gaze.
She reached out with an armored hand, her movements smooth and endlessly graceful, and pinched a small golden piece representing Round Table Studio. She slid it directly across the board.
She paused, letting her hand rest on the board, and her sharp grey eyes flicked up to meet Dorian's.
"Observe the patterns of your own divine system, Creator," Athena murmured casually, her voice echoing softly in the cavernous room.
Dorian blinked, pulled out of his corporate musings. "The system patterns? You mean the drop rates?"
"No. The manifestations," Athena corrected gently. "It yields vastly different items based entirely on the specific context of its world. Recall your simple farming simulation. When you gathered enough ambient belief and maxed out the foundational experience required for Stardew Valley... what did the system manifest for you?"
Dorian thought back to that day. "It gave me the Cave of Mastery."
"Exactly," Athena nodded, a faint smile touching her lips. "It brought forth a physical space. A domain representing the absolute peak of that specific world's trials. The system always scales to the absolute pinnacle of the reality it is drawing from."
…
CLANG! Dorian hit the marble floor of the training courtyard hard, sliding a few feet before desperately rolling to a stop. He lay there for a moment, his chest heaving, his lungs burning as he gasped for air. Sweat dripped from his chin, pooling on the pristine white stone.
Athena stood a few paces away, her golden spear resting casually at her side. She hadn't even broken a sweat. Seeing her Creator at his physical limit, she mercifully lowered her weapon, signaling a brief pause in their intense sparring session.
Dorian slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, groaning softly.
Athena turned her back to him, her heavy crimson cape fluttering in the wind as she walked toward the edge of the mountain. She looked down, her majestic gaze piercing through the clouds.
"Think about the Mirror of Night, Creator," Athena stated thoughtfully, the tip of her spear resting against the marble.
"What about it?" Dorian panted, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.
"When you poured your resources into it, maxing out its absolute potential," Athena noted, her voice carrying a heavy, godly weight. She gestured widely to the massive, impossible architecture of the mountain they were currently standing on, and then pointed down to the underworld below.
"It materialized this very mountain. It brought forth the River Styx. It breathed life into myself, into Hermes, into Ares," Athena turned her head, her grey eyes locking onto him. "When a world reaches its true maximum capacity, it brings forth the very architects of the realm itself."
…
Back in his bedroom, Dorian's mismatched eyes widened to the size of saucers.
Athena had known all along. She hadn't said it outright, but she had been methodically planting the breadcrumbs for him to follow. She wanted him to deduce the logic of the Creator System for himself.
"I've been looking at it through a microscope," Dorian whispered to the empty room, a profound realization washing over him.
He had been absolutely terrified of maxing out the profile because of the terrifying unknown. He had thought the 'peak' of the Assassin's Creed universe was the Brotherhood itself, or the magical Apples of Eden. But Athena was right. The foundational core of the entire game... was the modern-day technology that allowed Desmond to enter the past in the first place.
If Stardew's peak was the Cave, and Hades's peak was Olympus... then the absolute peak of the Assassin's Creed banner had to be the Animus itself.
Dorian took a deep, steadying breath. All of his hesitation and fear instantly evaporated, replaced by the thrilling, reckless determination of a developer on the verge of a breakthrough.
He pulled his system interface forward, navigating directly to the [Prince of the Renaissance] banner. He looked at his massive stockpile of Resonance Points.
"Alright, Athena," Dorian murmured, a fierce grin spreading across his face. "Let's see if your logic holds up."
Without another second of hesitation, Dorian began rapidly slamming the [100x PULL] button, flooding the banner with points until the synchronization meter finally filled.
A chunk of his hoarded Resonance Points instantly drained from his balance. The glowing progress bar on the interface rapidly filled, surging forward until it hit the absolute limit.
[Synchronization: 100%]
For a second, nothing happened. The interface just hummed quietly.
Then, the entire screen flashed with a brilliant, blinding golden light. A cascading series of unprecedented, highly complex system notifications began to aggressively overwrite the standard menu screen.
[CONGRATULATIONS! Profile Completed: Prince of the Renaissance]
[Following Assassin Creed mechanics, Animus 1.0 and 2.0 with its codex are authorized to materialize...]
Dorian held his breath. Athena had been absolutely right. The core of the reality was the machine. But the system didn't stop there. More text began to scroll.
[Confirming implementation with Universe Law...]
[Scanning host cosmic level...]
[Host Cosmic level passed the threshold...]
[Taking inquiry...]
A final, flashing prompt appeared directly in the center of his vision.
[Where would you like to materialize the assets?]
Dorian sat back on his heels, completely taken aback. He stared at the floating blue text in sheer disbelief. "Uuuhh..." Dorian mumbled aloud, scrambling to process the sudden question. "My inventory?"
The text immediately shifted.
[Target Location: Spatial Inventory.]
[Confirm] [Cancel]
Dorian tentatively reached out and tapped [Confirm].
[Transaction Complete.]
[Animus 1.0 and Animus 2.0 with its codex have materialized with the explicit consent of the Host.]
Dorian slumped back onto the floor, his heart hammering against his ribs. He immediately opened his spatial inventory, letting out a massive breath of relief as he saw the unmistakable, sleek red and white medical chair of the Animus 2.0 safely tucked away in a digital slot, right alongside a massive stack of decrypted technical blueprints.
But his mind was entirely fixated on the system's strange new dialogue.
'Cosmic level?' Dorian thought, staring at the empty air. 'My Cosmic level? What the hell does that even mean?'
He had peeled back another profound layer of his Creator System, confirming that maxing out a banner yielded the ultimate foundational truth of that world. But in doing so, the system had casually thrown an entirely new vague mystery directly in his face.
Not only that, the actual execution of the materialization had fundamentally changed.
When he had maxed out Stardew Valley, the Cave of Mastery had violently and randomly manifested itself somewhere in the galaxy. When he completed Hades, it had required the literal divine intervention of Zeus and Poseidon to safely anchor Olympus.
But this time? The system had actively paused. It had scanned his so-called 'cosmic authority,' checked the 'Universe Law,' and then respectfully asked for his explicit consent on where to put it.
He was evolving. The system was treating him less like a host, and more like a true Creator.
Suddenly, the soft sound of footsteps echoing from the hallway outside his room broke his intense concentration.
Dorian blinked rapidly, shaking his head to clear his thoughts.
As he did, his vision violently shifted.
Everything in his bedroom abruptly washed out into a deep, shadowy grayscale. The vibrant colors of his furniture, his posters, and his bedsheets were instantly muted into absolute darkness.
Dorian panicked, his hands flying up to his eyes. 'What? Am I going blind?!'
But then, a luminous, glowing blue outline pierced through the darkness. It was a perfect, thermal-like silhouette of a human figure, and it was walking directly toward his room. The most shocking part was that Dorian was looking at the solid wall. He was seeing the blue silhouette through the wall. The realization hit him.
Eagle Vision.
Because he had hit 100% synchronization, Ezio's ultimate sensory ability had permanently bled into his base reality.
The glowing blue silhouette stopped right in front of his bedroom door.
Knock. Knock.
"Brother!" Lyra's muffled voice called out from the hallway. "The Psyduck by the pond is getting ready to evolve! Do you want to come see?"
Dorian sat frozen on his floor, staring at his sister's glowing blue skeleton through the plaster and drywall. He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to mentally command the overwhelming sensory input to turn off.
"I–uhhh..." Dorian stammered, his voice cracking slightly as he struggled to control his new, terrifyingly perceptive eyes. "I'll... I'll pass! Tell me about it later!"
Lyra paused on the other side of the door. The glowing blue silhouette visibly shrugged.
"Meh," Lyra said dismissively. "Alright. Your loss."
Dorian watched the blue aura turn around and walk away down the hall, eventually fading out of range. The second she was gone, his vision violently snapped back to normal. The bright, warm colors of his bedroom flooded back into his retinas, leaving him blinking against the sudden light.
Dorian let out a long, shaky breath, running a hand through his hair.
What just happened? How did it work? Was it an active toggle, or did it trigger based on his adrenaline and focus?
He looked at the digital clock on his desk. It was barely mid-morning, yet so much had already happened. Between acquiring the holy grail of VR technology, discovering 'Cosmic levels', and accidentally unlocking supernatural X-ray vision, Dorian suddenly had an astronomical amount of things to sort out in his mind.
…
Meanwhile, far away from the divine halls of Olympus and the bustling servers of Round Table Studio, Gale and Jess were currently making their way through the neon-lit transit corridors of the Weda system.
They were officially on their way back to the Core Worlds after turning in a grueling mercenary contract at the local Apex Guild branch. However, they were currently taking a massive, unscheduled detour.
Jess had been scrolling through the Avalon forums on her Heliopad and practically begged Gale to stop here. Apparently, the massive convention center in the Weda sector was hosting a massive, fan-created Pokémon tournament.
Gale didn't really follow Pokémon all that much. The only things he actually knew about the game were the brief snippets he absorbed while watching Jess enthusiastically battle on her heliopad.
Gale himself was a dedicated Stardew Valley player. Walking through the crowded space station, he couldn't help but reflect on the pixelated farming simulator. Looking back on it, that simple game had fundamentally changed him for the better. It had pulled him out of a dark, suffocating work as Accord soldier and taught him how to breathe again.
"Gale! Gale, look!"
Jess excitedly tugged on his heavy armored sleeve, breaking him out of his thoughts.
Gale followed her line of sight. As they entered the massive convention hall, they were immediately met with a breathtaking sea of passionate fans. People were walking around wearing crazy, elaborate armor, carrying massive 3D printed swords, and dressed as all sorts of colorful characters from the RTS universe.
"Gale, look!" Jess gasped, pointing a small finger. "There is Red!"
Gale squinted through the crowd. Standing near a merchandise booth was a young man dressed flawlessly as 'Red', the silent protagonist of Pokémon. He wore the iconic red-and-white cap, a simple jacket, and carried a replica Pokéball on his belt.
"Let's go!" Jess cheered enthusiastically, bouncing on her heels. "I wanna take a picture!"
Gale smiled warmly. Seeing his daughter this happy made the long detour entirely worth it. Maybe coming to this system was a good decision after all.
However, as they actually walked up to the cosplayer, Jess suddenly froze. Her usual bubbly confidence completely vanished, replaced by an overwhelming wave of starstruck shyness. She hid slightly behind Gale's leg.
Gale chuckled softly, kneeling down to her eye level. "Come on, Jess. We've dealt with plenty of terrifying beasts on our guild missions. You can't be scared now."
Jess playfully pouted, finding her courage. "Those monsters were nothing but overgrown Zilka hens."
"Wrong," Gale laughed, tapping her nose. "They were Cocketrees. And Zilka hens are much, much smaller than them. Now go on. Ask him."
Taking a deep breath, Jess nodded. She stepped out from behind Gale and approached the young man. "E-Excuse me?"
The Red cosplayer turned around. Seeing Jess nervously looking up at him, a warm, incredibly genuine smile spread across his face. He possessed a strangely intense gaze, his eyes partially shadowed by the brim of his cap. He immediately knelt down to perfectly match her eye level.
"Hello there," the young man said kindly.
"Can... can I please take a photo with you?" Jess asked nervously, holding up her datapad.
"Of course you can," the cosplayer smiled. He then glanced up at Gale, offering a polite nod. "Your dad can jump in too, if he wants."
"Sure," Gale agreed, stepping forward. It wasn't every day he got the chance to take a fun picture with Jess.
The Red cosplayer stood up and gently tapped the shoulder of a towering, majestic woman standing right beside him. She was flawlessly cosplaying the Goddess of Wisdom from Hades, complete with a golden spear, heavy shield, and piercing grey eyes.
"Excuse me, Athena," the young man asked casually. "Can you take a picture of us?"
The Athena cosplayer turned around. She looked at Gale, then down at Jess, a smile graced her lips. "Sure," she replied smoothly, taking the Orb-cam from Gale's hands.
Snap.
After thanking the two cosplayers, Gale and Jess headed deeper into the convention hall to watch the tournament.
They had arrived a bit late, as the stadium matches were already deep into the quarter-finals. But they easily made do, finding some open seats in the bleachers and enjoying every single second of it. Gale got to see an entirely different side of Jess.
Usually quiet during their missions, she was currently screaming at the top of her lungs alongside thousands of other fans, aggressively yelling at the holographic players about which moves to use, as if her voice alone would somehow command the digital Charizards on the screen.
It added a crazy, electric energy to the air, and they thoroughly enjoyed their day.
On their way back to the docking bays, they strolled through the artist alley, browsing dozens of booths selling all kinds of official and fan-made RTS merchandise.
Gale ended up buying a beautifully woven straw farming hat and several high-quality Stardew Valley enamel pins to put on his mercenary bag. Jess, completely in her element, practically cleared out an entire table, happily sticking with all kinds of plushies, keychains, and trading cards to fuel her ever-growing Pokémon obsession.
…
Back at the Round Table Studio headquarters, the atmosphere was as focused and productive as ever.
Inside the bright, sunlit art department, Kasavin stood quietly behind Lin Liseli's hover chair, looking over her shoulder at her massive holographic drawing tablet. Displayed on the screen were dozens of highly detailed, fully rendered models of Generation 2 and Generation 3 Pokémon.
"Are all the assets ready for the expansion?" Kasavin asked, adjusting his glasses.
Liseli tucked her digital stylus behind her ear and leaned back, letting out a satisfied hum. "Yep. It's all good. We are mostly just adding the new regions and fleshing out the extended Pokédex animations. Though..."
Liseli paused, a spark of creative ambition lighting up her eyes. "I do want to talk to Arty about a major change in the gameplay loop. I have been bouncing an idea around with the rest of the art team about making a real-time, action-focused Pokémon battle mode once we finish wrapping up Sky: Children of the Light."
Kasavin raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the massive mechanical shift. "A real-time arena fighter? You think it will work with our current engine?"
Liseli tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Well, that is the tricky part. We definitely need to sit down and talk about the mechanical logistics with Bem. Programming hundreds of unique, real-time hitboxes and movement physics is completely different from our current turn-based system."
"It's a massive undertaking," Kasavin noted, his producer instincts kicking in. "But it would completely make the game fresh all over again. Polish the idea, build a solid visual prototype, and bring it up at next week's meeting."
Liseli grinned, pulling her stylus back out. "Will do, Kas."
Just then, the heavy glass doors to the department wing slid open.
Arthur strolled into the room, looking significantly more exhausted but infinitely more triumphant than usual. Trailing closely behind him were two heavy-duty industrial Compadres. The hovering droids were currently carrying massive wooden shipping crates, one was an absolute giant of a box, while the other was medium-sized and heavily reinforced.
They marched straight toward the central Junction room.
Kasavin blinked, stepping away from Liseli's desk and following his CEO. "What is all that, Arty?"
"Gawain," Arthur called out, he pointed at the center of the room. "Let's leave the boxes right there. Gently, please."
"At once, sir," Gawain's crisp, algorithmic voice echoed from the room's speakers.
Controlling the industrial Compadres with flawless precision, Gawain carefully lowered the heavy crates onto the reinforced floor. The droids unlatched their magnetic grips and quietly hovered backward into standby mode.
Arthur turned around, dusting off his hands. He looked at Kasavin and Liseli, a massive, uncontainable smile spreading across his face.
"Well, guys," Arthur announced, gesturing grandly to the massive wooden crates. "It took some late nights and a lot of... work. But here it is. The long-awaited Animus!"
Kasavin and Liseli froze. Their eyes widened to the absolute size of dinner plates. They stared at the wooden crates, and then back at Arthur, completely stunned.
Arthur just smiled at their completely speechless expressions. He tapped his comms terminal.
"Gawain. Sound the alarm. Call the other department heads to the Junction room immediately."
"Yes, sir," Gawain replied promptly. "Sending the summons now."