Chapter Text
Earth | State of Japan | May 5th of 2138
Suzuki Satoru had once known a home.
It had kept her warm, it was in good condition, and she didn’t have to pay rent. The best part? She got to see her mother every day. It hadn’t seemed like much to her as a kid, even though the neighboring kids might be lucky to briefly see their parents for a few minutes before they stumbled their way to bed. However, without fail, her mom would walk back through the front door, and spend some time with her, no matter how tired she was.
Her mother had been her world, and she was happy.
Then, she turned seven, and everything changed.
It happened suddenly. One day, she was having dinner with her Mom. And the next, her home sat empty save herself, only an urn of ashes to keep her company. The home she knew became her prison, one she had to pay for even as a child grieving a lost parent. One she had to work to keep, even at the age of seven. So, taking after her late mom (she never knew her father, she just knew he was a deadbeat), she would wake, make the commute to work, and work the day, only to do it again the next day. Then, the next. And the next.
Work, eat, sleep. Wake, work, repeat. That was her life.
Her dreary routine seemed to change when she discovered a recently released DMMO-RPG called Y.G.G.D.R.A.S.I.L. It was a massive virtual reality world, where a player could be anyone or anything. It was a breath of fresh air after a life of air turned poisonous. With all that freedom, came friends who would go on to become a new family to her. From Amanomahitots to Yasa Swe, she and forty others had come together, fought together, forged a family, and built a home for each other. A refuge from the harsh realities of the world outside the game.
For over a decade, any time not spent working or sleeping was spent playing Yggdrasil. Every spare rin not spent on rent and food went into the game. Sometimes she’d even go days without sleeping, just so she could stay up for game events, raids, finish a project, or just to spend time with the rest of the guild, Ainz Ooal Gown. All to build the guild into a home that her friends would return too. Thus, the halls within the Tomb of Nazarick, their built base, was filled with comradery, joy, and the laughter of her friends as they’d share stories of their adventures in the game. And together, they had grown to become one of the strongest guilds to exist within YGGDRASIL.
However now, once again, her home sat silent and empty. After years of declining membership, the developers had announced the production of YGGDRASIL II, which would eventually replace the original game once complete. With that announcement, one by one, her friends would leave behind their inventory, and then exit the game, swearing to meet up again in the new game.
She understood, she really did. After all, once the devs made their announcement, no more work had gone into new events or updates. So for many, the game had grown stale. They all had their own lives to lead. Satoru couldn’t hold it against any of the others. She refused to. Instead, she stored their inventories within the Tomb’s Treasury for safekeeping, ready— should they choose to return.
As the day drew nearer and nearer, her anxiety creeped on her. So she sent out one last invite in the server they used to communicate, inviting everyone back for one last guild event before the game shut down. If she was being honest with herself, she didn’t expect many to attend. The chat had sat empty for months now, only the occasional meme or song links being posted, but not much else.
On the final night, she logged into the game, and entered the guild’s meeting hall, and made her way to the guild’s meeting room.
The room itself was beautiful. Built circular in shape, surrounded by black marble pillars supporting an ornate domed ceiling, it contained only a huge round table with forty-one luxurious chairs. As the night grew late, and the clock ticked on and on, all would sit empty besides hers, making the vast hall feel all the emptier.
The seat opposite of hers was occupied by a pile of muddy black slime, appearing to constantly shift in place. Above the slime’s shifting form floats a name-tag, reading “Herohero,” the only other guild member to arrive. Which was fine , really. She was just happy that she wasn’t spending another evening alone, with just the NPCs for company. She had taken up talking to them like they were people months ago in her loneliness. She would take talking with her friends any day.
They had already spent hours reminiscing on past raids and adventures, shared secrets they had discovered over the years, and laughed at the antics of many of the rather unique members of the guild. She caught Herohero up on her work and what she had managed to discover from the empty worlds of Yggdrasil, which she had written down and stored in the guild’s library, just in case anyone had returned.
"I’m sorry to have complained so much, Momonga," says Herohero, referring to her online handle, after a long twenty minute tirade where he had poured out all the possible and imaginable grievances. "It's just that I don't really have the opportunity to do it outside the game nowadays.”
Momonga raised one of her many pale hands, waving away Herohero’s concerns. "It doesn't matter, my friend. I completely understand. In truth, I experience many of the same difficulties at work myself. I'm just happy that you still accepted my invitation despite the fatigue.” She reassures him. “Thank you for staying up so late for me, HeroHero.” She told him with a soft smile, though it only showed as an emoji that appeared over her head. “I really do appreciate you taking the time to visit one last time. If only the others had been able to make it…” She said, her voice turning melancholic.
Herohero’s avatar slumps in its seat. “Please don’t hold it against them.” He groaned, rubbing an oozing tentacle at his forehead. “While you have done an admirable job in your role as Guild Mistress, maintaining Nazarick by yourself, I’m not sure if anyone besides you would even want to be here to see it all end. There are so many memories to be wiped away before your eyes. I’m not sure how you can stand to be here for it.” This was a sentiment Momonga had heard multiple times as each guild member would sign off for what would become the last time.
As they sat in companionable silence, HeroHero raised a tentacle, and held it in midair, before letting out a tired groan. “As fun as this has been, I should go. I have work in a few hours.” Herohero’s avatar moved a muddy tentacle through the air, the tip twitching with a surprising amount of dexterity, manipulating the end as if navigating through an invisible menu screen.
She opened her menu, and checked the time.
23:43:37
“Are you sure I couldn’t tempt you into pulling an all-nighter, HeroHero?” Momonga hopefully asked him. “There’s just over fifteen minutes till midnight…”
HeroHero seemed to consider it for a moment, before sadly shaking his head. “Not tonight, Momonga.” He said, the exhaustion obvious, before he broke out into a particularly painful wet-sounding cough, causing her to startle and look at her friend with concern. Had he gotten sick since the last time they had spoken? It had been about eight months now, and it was unfortunately pretty common for someone to get really sick nowadays.
“Sorry for asking so much, HeroHero. You’re right, it's already late, and you need your rest.” Momonga hurried to say, waving away her previous words.
HeroHero nodded at her once he had regained his breath. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay later. I have a presentation in the morning that I can’t afford to blow.”
She raised a hand, waving away Herohero’s apologies, and she kept her voice gentle. “No, it’s alright, truly. If you are tired, you have to go. Your health isn’t something that should be thrown away for a game.” She said, before adding with a maternal tone. “I don’t have work for a couple hours after the game shuts down. If you’d like, I could come over with a couple of the cans of synthetic soup I still have?” She offered, wanting to see one of her friends in person again, especially if HeroHero was truly sick…
In the background of Herohero’s audio, a distant alarm rings.
“I’m sorry, but I really have to go.” Herohero reopens his menu. “I wish you the best, Momonga. Maybe we can figure something out after tomorrow’s presentation. Until next time.” With that last comment, Herohero begins placing his inventory on the table before him, and then presses a tentacle to his screen, disappearing from view.
The only evidence of him ever having been present, is a pile of his gear and the text “ Guild Member: “Herohero” has left the game.” located in the corner of Momonga’s field of vision.
Momonga stares at the seat Herohero had just vacated, and then slumps forward, leaning over the table. “Until next time, my friend,” she mumbles with her face pressed into the table. Without looking, she waves a hand in the direction of Herohero’s gear, sending the equipment to join its brethren in the Guild’s Treasury, where she had stored all of the equipment entrusted to her by her friends before quitting the game. It was many an hour she had spent organizing the equipment based on the Guild Member, reminiscing on past adventures. She simply couldn’t bear to get rid of any of their gear, hoping they would one day return.
After a moment, she raises her head, and glances around the room, eyes skating over each and every empty chair, before sighing and leaning back in her seat. Even after months of silence from almost all of her guild members, she had kept their base ready in case any of the others had returned one last time. But, at 23:16:00, it's now obvious that they likely would not return before the game shut down for good. The only guild member to return had been Herohero, and even he could not stay until it all finished. In the end, it would just be herself and the NPCs, as it had been for nearly a year now.
“Where and when exactly are we going to meet, huh?” She felt her shoulders shudder with every one of the emotions she had bottled since the night had begun. “I’ve been trying to get everyone to meet up somewhere for the past year! Don’t you ‘Until next time’ me Herohero!” She shouted, slamming all four of her fists down onto the table.
An ephemeral ‘0’ appeared above each of her fists, which the game’s system had calculated using countless parameters.
“This is the Great Tomb of Nazarick! We all built this hall brick by brick together! It was supposed to be our home!” She cried out, clenching her eyes shut. “I held it all together for all of you! How can all of you just throw it away like yesterday’s garbage?!” She felt her eyes outside of Yggdrasil begin to burn and her cheeks grew wet with tears as they slipped past the system’s headset. Of course, they didn’t show on her avatar.
The anger quickly gave way to the much stronger sense of loneliness. It swept over her like ice water, settling into her bones. Her shoulders slumped, any anger now gone. “No.” She said to herself, shaking her head. “They didn’t abandon me.” She said out loud to remind herself. It was something she had had to tell herself a lot over the past year. She knew that they didn’t leave out of any kind of malice or neglect. They all had their own lives, and many in the guild were a lot less fortunate than herself. At least she had had steady work to support herself, even if she was just a soulless corporate drone.
With a sigh, she squared her shoulders, and forced herself to stand. That was enough feeling sorry for herself, at least for tonight. There was so little time left, and she refused to spend it wallowing.
That is what tomorrow is for.
She quickly shovelled the pile of items Herohero had left behind into her own inventory, and then spun on her foot, and walked towards the side of the room opposite the doors. There, inset into the wall, sat a glass cabinet. With purposeful strides, she walked up to the glass doors, and caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection. The reflection revealed a towering avatar, standing at just under seven foot tall and clothed in a set of dark purple robes. She had designed her avatar to look older, with a hair bun of silvery-gray hair decorated with a golden and bejeweled crocheted hair net designed to give the impression of a spider’s web. She had given herself the eight eyes one would expect from her race, with one large set and three smaller eyes per larger eye, and a mouth full of fangs, a few visibly poking from the avatar’s closed mouth. Not to mention her set of extra arms, with several rings glittering upon each visible hand. All of which came from her fully upgraded racial class of Spider Queen .
Gaining that extra set of arms had been an irritating adjustment, but it had come with its benefits. Such was the way with many of the body modifications in Yggdrasil, they all had their pros and cons, and had to be mastered before they could reliably be used. With said arms, she opened the cabinet doors, keeping a hand on each door. With the other two hands, she reached in and pulled out the one item the cabinet held.
An ornate golden staff, modeled after a caduceus of Greek mythology, with seven golden snakes circling around the staff’s neck, before meeting in the center each snake’s mouth bearing a different colored gemstone. She glances down one last time at the plaque placed beneath the niche the staff had rested in.
Text wrapped around the staff’s body, carved into it. “ The Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown, crafted from the Seven Divine Gems conquered by the Ainz Ooal Gown Guild. It shall remain as long as a single member of Ainz Ooal Gown remains, to bring to bear against any foe who would besiege the hallowed halls of the Tomb of Nazarick. May all foes who gaze upon its brilliance tremble in fear before its Might .”
How fitting that she would go out with the Guild Weapon, crafted by all of her friends. After all, a Guild Weapon is not just a weapon. It is a symbol. It showed that the Guild remained standing, and had stood until the End of it All.
It even managed to outlast those damn Angels, which was a small positive note during this mournful evening.
And seeing as she was the Guild Mistress, that access was all hers.
She reached out to grab it, but hesitated, her fingers barely an inch from its surface. The staff had never been moved from its position in the case, not since they had finished making it. Did she really want to change that now, minutes before the servers shut down for good.
Her mind raced with indecision, recalling days of yore when her friends had gone questing together to gather rare materials, fought each other to determine the design, each member coming together to make something great.
Those days were long behind her, now.
Now she was the only one to remain. The guild, once ranked ninth in the world, had dropped twenty ranks, and only hadn’t sunk further due to combination of her own efforts and the gear left behind by her friends.
She and the Staff were all that remained of Ainz Ooal Gown, beyond Nazarick itself, and her NPCs.
Her hand found the staff, and pulled it free from its home for the first time since its creation. The moment she had gripped it, it began to let out a shimmering aura, the color of dried blood. Anguished faces formed within the aura, warping and dissipating.
It felt right to wield it, like it had been waiting for her. The cries the faces let out almost sounded excited to her ears.
She caught another glimpse of herself in the reflective glass case, and she reopened her menu. “I might as well grab a photo with it, send it out to everyone as a postcard. I just need to look the part.” She muttered, glancing through her inventory, skipping past any items lower than god-tier. She felt that anything lower than that was an insult to the guild’s memory.
She equipped several more rings, and adorned herself with other pieces of jewelry, followed by a one piece dress made from sheer silk chiffon, whose four sleeves clung to her upper arms, before growing looser as it neared her wrists.
Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw a variety of numbers flash by, announcing the changes to her stats from equipping the extremely high level equipment. She took another glance at her reflection, and nodded in satisfaction. Now she looked the part of a Guild Mistress, the closest thing Yggdrasil had to nobility.
With the staff in hand, she turned, gently shutting the cabinet doors behind her, and walked out of the room, and entered one of the many corridors located on the ninth floor of their Guild Base, the Tomb of Nazarick. Above the gilded hallway, rested the upper eight floors of her home, eventually opening onto the festering fields of Helheim, one of the nine realms of Yggdressil. And below, rested the final floor, the tenth floor, and where she had work to do.
With purposeful strides, she walked to the end of the hall, and exited onto the landing of the marble staircase leading down to the final floor. Taking measured steps, she descended and came out into a large hall, where seven of Nazaricks many NPCs awaited her.
The lead figure is a tall older man with a snow-white head of hair, and a carefully trimmed beard frames his sharp features. Behind the butler, stand six young women. Though each woman is distinct, they all wear some variation of a maids uniform, and they all bear gentle smiles.
Essentially computer controlled characters. While some within Nazarick are the base NPCs that came with the Tomb, such as the floor guardian Gargantua, a point of pride for the Guild was the fact that the majority of their NPCs were custom designed by the members themselves. Many of the NPCS, such as the Butler and the Maids had custom appearances, builds, and backstories, all tailored to fit the guild’s aesthetic.
As such, the Maids were known as the Pleiades, based on the seven sister-nymph companions to the goddess Artemis from Greek Mythology, and named after the navigational stars of the same constellation; Yuri Alpha, Lupusregina Beta, Narberal Gamma, CZ2128 Delta, Solution Epsilon, and Entoma Vasilisa Zeta. While only six stood before them, the seventh, Aureole Omega, was located elsewhere within Nazarick. The Butler who leads the Pleiades is named Sebas Tian. He is a Butler, designed to be capable of both domestic tasks and skilled in combat.
They had all been her companions in the empty silence for the past year. At this point, they were like her family. If her real family couldn’t be here, she might as well bring their children.
“Follow me.” She said, causing Sebas and the Pleiades to stir to life, and fall into step behind her, meticulously matching her pace as she resumes her trek through Nazarick. Eventually, the hall exits into a large domed room, illuminated by multi-colored crystal chandeliers that hang from the sloped ceiling. The walls of the room are interrupted by a series of seventy-two cavities, only sixty-seven of which contain stone statues, each designed to look like a Demons. The room was called Lemegeton, after the ancient magic grimoire “The Lesser Key of Solomon,” and was guarded by the sixty-seven stone demon golems. It served as the last line of defense that any raid would have to beat before entering the throne room. Set into the walls at cardinal points are three doors. The door directly ahead of her and to the left are ornate, and carved in different exquisite details. The door on the right is simpler, still ornate but lacking in the grandiose design of the other.
“Tch,” she scoffed, before gazing around the room with a sad smile. “It's a shame I never got to see this room in action. I’d have loved to have seen the Ars Goetia in action at least once. Or at the very least finished…” She said to Sebas, who only blankly looked in her direction.
“Yeah, you're right. I shouldn’t blame Ulbert on that one. We did run out of the prismatic ore to make them after we lost access to the Seven Hidden Mines.” She admitted. “I should just be happy he managed to secret enough out before the Mines were lost. After all, look how far he was able to stretch that supply.” She said, gesturing around the room lined with dark statues meticulously carved by her four hands.
Instead of walking directly across the room to the doors barring entry to the Throne Room, she walked towards the door on the left, and pushed her way through, revealing a cavernous room. It was built of lightly colored stone, giving the room a bright appearance despite sitting hundreds of feet below ground. The walls were lined with towering bookshelves, all filled to bursting with tomes, scrolls, and books of all manner and variety, which she and the guild had toiled to fill and expand through the years, many of them illegal copies of books hoarded by the corporations.
Any space not covered in books was filled with art. Paintings, banners, tapestries, busts, and more. Not even the ceiling was spared, with a beautiful fresco painted across the expanse. Above the towering bookshelves sat a second floor, slightly offset back from the first floor—which was lined with doors and glass cases like one would see in a museum.
In the center of the vast hall, sat a small plinth, covered in runes. Atop of the plinth rested a glass orb roughly the size of a head. The result of weeks of work, and the crowning jewel of the Library of Ashurbanipal. With the Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown in hand, she placed her other three hands on the orb. With a flash, a menu appeared before her eyes, and through the translucent and ephemeral screen, she could see wisps of magic swirl around her.
Purely aesthetic she knew, she had included that dramatic feature herself. She had to entertain herself somehow in these empty halls. There was only so much she could talk to the NPCs, roleplaying a family, without beginning to feel like she was going insane.
Focusing her gaze on the menu, she entered the tab labeled “Guild Commands,” and perused the options, before selecting an option close to the bottom.
<<Export Data: Are you sure? Yes / No >>
She tapped yes.
<<Is an external harddrive connected for export? Yes / No >>
Again, she tapped yes. She had spent nearly an hour earlier that evening making sure the thing was hooked up properly.
<<Begin Export? Yes / No >>
One last time, she tapped yes.
The words were replaced with a warning to not disconnect the hard drive, below which sat a progress bar. With bated breath, she watched as the bar began to fill, inching closer and closer to 100%. Through the menu screen, she could see a shimmering line extend the height of the room, and begin to circle around her in a circle. This was the riskiest part of everything. The devs for Yggdrasil typically actively watched for any sort of active downloads from the game, fearing the theft of code that allowed them to dominate the MMO market for over a decade. But seeing as the game was shutting down, with Yggdrasil II a vague suggestion, she knew that there were openings in their security net.
After what felt like an hour, but was likely just a few minutes, the progress bar had completely filled, and was replaced with << Download Complete >>.
The tension immediately left her body, and she let out a sigh of relief. Exiting the menu, she pulled her hands away from the orb, and turned to face Sebas and the Pleiades, who had remained in position several paces behind her. Feeling giddy with success, she began to laugh, and joyfully exclaimed to the silent room, “Behold! The Ritual is complete! Now the Great Tomb of Nazarick and the Ainz Ooal Gown Guild will be immortalized beyond the branches of Yggdrasil!” With a quick command, the NPCs began to clap, and she dramatically basked in the applause.
She couldn’t wait to see the looks on everyone's faces as she uploaded the books they had made over the years. Especially the cringy ones. Who knew how much blackmail she now had at her fingertips, which everyone else had forgotten about!
She’d spare Herohero, of course, since he had come to visit her. But the others were all free game. She may even be able to get Peroroncino to help refine her new character build in the eventual sequel if she played her cards right, thinking about a certain school romance book he and a few of the others had written and forgotten about.
Once satisfied with the praise, she again checked the time.
23:33:45
With a nod, she left, passing the two golems standing sentry next to the doors, and approached the towering double doors blocking access to the Throne room. As she approached, she took in the carved features of a Goddess and a Devil one last time before pushing them open, revealing the vast hall beyond, and she walked into the Throne room for the last time. Her footsteps echo off the solid gray marble floor, echoed by the footsteps of the NPCs behind her, and across the cavernous room as they walk towards the dais at the other side.
The distance is vast enough that the gothic throne at the far end is hard to properly make out, but it becomes clearer as she approaches, passing twenty pairs of massive obsidian pillars, gilded with silver, lining the edge of the room. On the wall opposite the entrance, stretches a large banner bearing the Guild’s coat of arms, on blood red fabric.
Below the Guild’s banner, sat a raised platform, made from the same material as the rest of the hall’s floor. Sitting in the center of this raised platform is a huge throne, carved from a single piece of polished black Basalt with gothic designs, with a back that stretches near to the ceiling above.
The Throne of Queens . A World Item that was once a symbol of the strength of her family. Now, it sits empty, purposeless.
“The end of the line, the last line of defense, and the resting place of Saint Nazarick. What more fitting place could there be to finish the adventure.” She dramatically mused as she climbed the steps leading to the throne. As she crests the edge of the platform, another figure is revealed to her. Standing at attention on the right side of the throne, stands an unnaturally beautiful woman. Dressed in a snow-white gown that complements her hour-glass figure, and a golden spider-web necklace around her near alabaster neck. Above her inhumanely golden eyes, two horns curl from the back of her head, and framed her pitch black hair. And from her hips, sprouts a pair of folded ebony wings.
“It's good to see you again, Albedo.” She told the regent of all Nazarick NPCs, strongest of the Floor Guardians, and the designated guard for the Throne of Queens.
She was brought up short by the item in the NPC’s hand. Clenched tightly by porcelain hands, is a long metallic black wand, with a spinning black orb resting above the tip. It was an item she recognized.
“What is Ginnungagap doing here?” She muttered. Ginnungagap is one of the World Items owned by the guild of Ainz Ooal Gown, and is capable of delivering massive amounts of damage against an enemy. She stares down at the wand in Albedo’s hand, trying to remember if she had given Albedo the item, and just couldn’t remember having done so. However, after a moment, she shrugged.
It’s not as if it will truly matter anymore.
Instead, she sat down on the throne. As always, it felt perfectly proportioned to her size, which is somewhat of a novelty considering the height of her character. She summoned her menu, and pulled up the NPC command screen. Normally, NPC’s had to be directly commanded to do anything outside of their base settings. But as the Guild Mistress, she had access to commands that extended to all of Nazarick. While she would have loved to summon each and every NPC to the throne room, she knew from experience that the game couldn’t handle the strain of running several hundred NPCs at the same time in an area not built for it, like some of the cities within the game. The last time she had tried, the game region of Helheim had crashed, and had to be rebooted by the programmers. She wasn’t willing to risk crashing the game so close to it shutting down, as the programmers would likely just shut it down for good, rather than reboot it for only a few minutes just to shut it down again.
Instead, she summons the beings handcrafted by several of her friends and guildmates to protect and hold the floors of the Tomb of Nazarick against invaders, the Floor Guardians. With a flash like a descending star, they began to appear in the center of the throne room.
First is the guardian of the first through third floors of the Tomb of Nazarick, Shalltear Bloodfallen, created by Peroroncino. Designed as a vampire, she is rather short, and modeled after a teenager, if a teen girl were to have shiny-pale skin, silver hair, blood-red eyes. She is dressed in a large Victorian evening dress, embellished with lace and ribbon. Her hands are covered in long gloves, and carries a black umbrella.
Behind Shalltear, is the guardian of the fifth floor, Cocytus. Standing at just over eight feet tall, Cocytus is designed as a mix between a praying mantis and an ant. Dressed in an armored carapace covered with sharp icicle-like spikes across his pale blue carapace armor, a long tail, four massive arms, and a set of jaws strong enough to shatter bones, he makes for quite the intimidating figure. Two of his hands carry large silver halberds, and the other two hold dimly glowing maces. His only articles of clothing are silver and gold bracers on each of his forearms, a pair of thick silver anklets, and a chunky gold necklace.
Arriving together, hand in hand, are the child-sized twin siblings, Mare Bello Fiore and Aura Bella Fiora, guardians of the sixth floor. Being designed as dark elves, both had blonde hair down to the nape of their neck, pointed ears, and sported a rich tan, several shades darker than their wood elf cousins. Both also sported opposing pairs of heterochromatic eyes, with Mare having a blue right eye and a green left, and Aura having a green right eye and a blue left. The main distinction between the two are in how they dress. Designed by Bukukuchigamapot, and modeled off her own relationship with her brother, Peroroncino, Bukubukachagama had decided that it would be pretty funny for the twins to cross dress.
As such, Mare, being the younger brother, is dressed in a blue dragon scale body suit, over which he wore a white and gold vest embroidered with the guild insignia. His legs were covered by a short white skirt, leaving his thighs exposed, and donned white silk gloves. Over his androgynous shoulders, he wore a green cloak. Aura, on the other hand, wore a white and gold pair of suit pants and vest, similarly embroidered with the guild insignia. The only other article of clothing the twins shared was a pair of glowing acorn necklaces.
Arriving behind the tiny guardians, is the last guardian she had summoned. Demiurge, Guardian to the Seventh Floor. Similar to all the NPCs designed by her guildmate Ulbert Alaine Odle, Demiurge was inspired by another typically evil being, an Arch Demon. As such, the NPC stands tall and thin, with a deep tan and slicked back coal-black hair. He appears quite dashing, with a pair of round glasses that hides his eyes, and dressed in an orange-red pinstripe suit and tie. The most obvious sign of his demonic nature is the long, metal covered scorpion-like tail that extends from his back, and ends in an impossibly sharp barb, though Momonga knew that was not the end of Demiurge’s demonic features.
There were two other Floor Guardians, Victim and Gargantua. They were the ones who guarded the fourth and eighth floor respectively. She would have summoned them as well, but she would not put it past other guilds to not attempt one last raid. They had made enough enemies over the years. So she kept them in place, and together, they should be able to hold off any force until midnight.
After that, well… it didn’t really matter, did it?
Each guardian arrived at the entrance to the Throne Room, and remained in position. With a groan, she commanded the Guardians to approach, and kneel at the foot of the dias, in front of the Pleiades. Sebas, she commanded to stand next to the throne, opposite Abledo. As chief servant of Nazarick, it would fit that he would be at her side.
As the Guardians sedately crossed the vast floor of the Throne Room, she distracted herself by pulling up Albedo’s character menu, slightly curious what her creator, Tabula Smaragdina, had included after all these years. After all, the man had been careful to give each of his NPCs a full description and personality.
Most of her character sheet was about what she expected, having seen some of Tabula’s other works. A pretty in depth backstory, repeated mentions of her love and loyalty to Nazarick and the Guildmistress, a family tree, hell, even her blood type.
The professions of love for her threw Momonga a bit. Tabula had always had a bit of a crush on her. She was flattered, of course, but he was also twenty years older than her. She preferred him as a treasured friend, almost like an uncle, and had told him so. Eventually, he had reluctantly accepted that would be all he was to her, and she had thought that was the end of it. But perhaps not if he had included that in the bio of the NPC.
However, it is a recent addition at the bottom of her character sheet that brings her up short.
<<She’s a whore.>>
The words stare at her from her character menu, followed by a frankly disturbingly long list of kinks and even a rather detailed passage dedicated to her sexual history, which she only briefly skimmed over.
Were his other NPCs like that, or just Albedo?
She sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose with a hand. She knew that Tabula liked to give contrast to his characters, and Albedo was a succubus, but really? He couldn’t come up with something classier? She’s a Floor Guardian, afterall. What does it say about the guild?
Not that she was slut shaming the NPC. It simply brought to mind the rumours many of her male coworkers would try and spread so they could take her position for themselves.
Though, knowing the man, he probably never conceived of a reality where an enemy guild would ever make it to this point. After all, Victim and the rest of the Eighth floor had historically been enough to fend off a siege of over fifteen-hundred players.
She hesitated for a moment. Gripping the guild staff, she opens Albedo’s character editor, but hovers a finger over the button.
Should she really do this? Afterall, Albedo is one of the last things that Tabula had added to the game, that he had put so much of himself into. She could remember the way the man talked about the NPC, sounding like a proud father. Does she really have the right to change this about her? She knew she would hate it if anyone changed anything about her own NPC.
Her eyes flick back up to the end of the character sheet, re-skimming the material, before pausing at the phrase <<She views Tabula Smaragdina as a Lover.>>
Seriously, Tabula?!
Everyone knew he had struggled to get a girlfriend in the real world. But that doesn’t mean it's not sad that he made one for himself! What’s worse is that the man would refer to Albedo as one of his daughters!
Now over her hesitation, she quickly edited that section to read <<Albedo views Tabula Smaragdina as a father figure>> and left everything else the same.
There, that’s better.
By that time, the Guardians had joined the Pleiades where they kneel before the dais. With that done, she slouches slightly, and gazes out over the vast hall, her many eyes tracing the pillars with the banners dedicated to each team mate.
“I miss them, your parents.” She muttered allowed, absently directed at the NPCs. She had spent so much time alone with them, that she had long picked up the habit of talking to them as if they were people. Heck, she had spent so much time with them by now that she wouldn’t have been surprised if they would have seen her as their mother, had they been real. “Even your father, Demiurge. Even Ulbert,” she admits with a small begrudging smile towards the kneeling Arch-demon.
She quickly angled her menu to capture her posing regally on the Throne, looking every bit like a queen, and took a photo. She wanted one last keepsake from Nazarick and Yggdrasil.
Maybe she could send it out as a postcard to the others?
Again, she checked her menu, knowing it must be nearly midnight by now.
23:58:37
She nods, having her suspicions confirmed. Essentially just a minute left in the game she had dedicated the last decade of her life too. The game where she had made so many dear friends, and accomplished things that she could either only dream of in the real world, or read in a fantasy novel.
She didn’t regret a single second. Only that the family she had forged weren’t with her now.
23:59:56
23:59:57
23:59:58
She closed her eyes, and waited. It was best to not have your eyes open when you were kicked out of a game. The rapid changes tended to leave her nauseous, and the bright white menu of the NMI system always burned when she was unprepared.
23:59:59
00:00:00
00:00:01