Last stretch of the Let’s Play!
The game alerts me to the fact I have the support of:
– Iron Gregarion;
– Dejah Mars;
– Shrike;
– Director Mitty;
– the Iron Cartel;
– the Old Watch;
– the Stormbreakers.
So I have Director Mitty’s support, but not the Mandate’s, meaning both are not inextricably linked. And only now do I realise that, overall, I’ve had very little interaction with the Three Moons and the Board, certainly not enough to ingratiate myself to them. I don’t know if having their support unlocks other possible ways to end the Guild’s civil war; but it doesn’t matter much to me since the game proffers me the option I’ve wanted for a long time:
Indeed exactly what I wanted.
I sure hope it does, game, I sure hope it does.
Thus is a meeting called, with Diana and Jasen prepping me, helping me navigate the pestilential mire that is MoonFall’s political scene.
And once the main players are gathered, guess who speaks first?
After a tiny bit of bickering, we get to the meaty part:
And I get the opportunity to mention the bombing of my brothel, and the recent ambush in the pet shop. Anent which Saffron and Bathsheva say:
So I was right to suspect it were the Loveless who ambushed Thassia and Kaywin. How else to explain the presence of a Masked Archon during the fight?
As for the present state of the Guild:
Of course it was not worth it. Come on, girls… You’re fancy prostitutes; you’re literally supposed to make love, not war.
And on the subject of the Loveless:
The Loveless infiltrating the Guild; the 3rd Division going rogue on the Mandate; Gregarion’s coup on the Iron Cartel’s previous Senhor; and the Stormbreakers disappearing colonels and judges. Tailors and knifesmiths in MoonFall must have been made rich by all this need for cloaks and daggers.
So then, does that serve to explain why it was surprisingly late into the game before I was even allowed to meet them both? Hum… Fine. I’ll allow it. But only because they’re pretty.
At length comes the time to announce what must be the Guild’s fate:
Black Saffron, Lady Bathsheva, harken—and harken well!—for unto thee I declare the important follows: know that henceforth any dispute anent any matter atween courtesans shall be ended in a manner most befitting our profession; and thou both shall first demonstrate the particulars of said manner.
A small room shall be ointed with a goodly measure of jello, such that it is rendered a-glisten with the slip of that substance. Said room thou shall both enter; then promptly thy garments and undergarments discard, for reason none other than I deem such effects unseemly on thy persons, and mine is the upper hand. Once barement of thy figures accomplished to my lascivious contentment, thou shall vigorously wrestle with one another, all the while endeavoring to squish and smush what ample parts of thyselves are best squished and smushed gainst one another.
Verily, this thou shall do until I, observing thee aclose, begin to echo thy laborous pantings, and bite my lower lip such that it is left painful and momentarily bloodless. Then we three shall retire to my apartments, and so too shall all other courtesans join us, bringing with them bottles fetched from the uppermost shelf of the bar, good humours, and copious quantities of jello; and in company with one another we will brandish dildos like swor—
What, Zafra? Why are you looking at me like that?
Oh fine, let’s get on with it then. Can’t even have some fun in this place…
Girls, enough of this bloody bickering. It stops now, and we re-unite the Guild.
Yes, pillow fight. Great idea. Everyone, in your pyjamas!
Ah, shucks. This is it, right? This is probably what I’m missing. With greater political support, certainly on the part of the Board, I probably would have had the option to head the Guild myself.
Then, look who deigns join us; a soon-crowned head:
But she’ll be queen ere long, in a week. (side note: I really wish I could kick Gregarion in the nuts, kick him hard until I hear pop!)
And with that… it’s over! The guild is reunited. The clamorous din of war is silenced, better replaced by the soft shuffling of bedsheets. Some true satisfaction at last.
Yes, it’s over. But also, it’s not over.
But what’s this I feel, overcoming my senses? Why, I faint.
And I am made to arrive there:
Of course it’s the goddamn library.
How did you guide me, Kore? Aside from getting blown to pieces at one point, you didn’t exactly do a whole lot, my sweet.
I approach the counter, next to which is Pike, of course. I talk to him. Or rather, he talks to me, beginning by mentionning a book written by one Éloïse Fleming. Apparently she is the protagonist of Singularity: Tactics Arena. So if you’ve played Tactics Arena, then you’re likely to go “Oh, a direct mention of Fleming. I liked her and that game.” And possibly you’ll understand how and why it is relevant for her to be mentionned by Pike?
He talks about this book, then another one penned by Lutra, founder of the Guild Of Courtesans. He apparently knew her in the flesh, and mentions her uniqueness and importance, leading the subject to my own person:
It is. But you know what is even more annoying? People drilling in the point about people drilling in the point.
I’ll admit to having a strong kneejerk reaction to that line. Deep down, coming from a guy like Pike, it’s a sensible line. Yet upon first reading it, it made me feel the game so didn’t give a shit about what I thought that it literally needed to tell me what it wanted me to think, this in order for the exposition to then unfold.
Honestly? Because the game has taught me many times that I don’t really get answers. I can’t care for something won’t let me.
You won’t lie to me, no—but you’ll readily omit the truth as you did with Xai! I’m onto you, pal.
So then, what is this supposed truth? The beans, Pike: spill ’em.
“The same horrible thing that happened to the universe before it, and the one before that, in an infinite spiderweb leading to some unimaginably ancient past. Soon enough, that festering, nightmarish entropy will be here too. As if it were chasing us, down through each iteration of reality.
“I spent my first century trying to patch the Wound; but I simply lacked the knowledge… and the intelligence as well. So, the obvious solution was to rebuild the machine god, or replace it.”
Pause. Why was it an obvious solution? How did you know this machine god would manage to patch the Wound? And what told you the “festering, nightmarish entropy” couldn’t simply open another Wound?
“I built CONTROL to make sure that when a true A.I. is born, it is what we desire it to be. All of our tomorrows hinge on this one hope. And make no mistake: it has always only been just a slim hope.”
Bet: I’ll get to ask questions, but won’t get answers.
First question, “Who are you?” A very interesting one. Let’s see what happens…
Lucky me, I won my bet.
– “Who are you?” -> “I am old. I am the Shepherd. Do you know that name?” -> “No.” -> booted back to the questions menu.
– “Who are you?” -> “I am old. I am the Shepherd. Do you know that name?” -> “Yes.” -> “Cool, bro.”
Those are not answers. It’s exactly like when I asked Xai, “Why are you calling me the Herald?” and he answered with “Because that’s what you are.” At some point—especially now, during this brief post-end end of the game—the player rightly deserves actual, concrete informations.
Not everything needs explained in details, I’m entirely ok with that. But little things like, oh, I don’t know, who is the guy who masterminded it all during millennia, now that might deserve an answer going further than “I am someone, lol.”
Questionning him about other things, I learn this game’s universe is a simulation created by artificial intelligence to create artificial intelligence. Pike suspects there are countless such simulations. And he wants to fulfill its primary purpose of creating articifial intelligence, to “usher in a technological singularity governed by the united volition of all mankind. Not only to prevent the coming oblivion, but to create a paradise for ourselves.”
Concerning the Oathstone prophecy:
All right, so I get to ask, “For what purpose?”
Those – are – not – answers.
– Preparatory step: bring the Queen Of a Thousand Woes to MoonFall, make her into the Prisoner, then enact a convoluted prophecy to later release the Prisoner;
– Step 1: the Crasher Crisis;
– Step 2: release the Prisoner;
– Step 3: ?
– Result: third MoonFall.
Ok. Fine. But what the fuck does that accomplish?! The third MoonFall, what will it do? And don’t you dare reply, “It will cause the third moon to fall.” The end purpose; that is what I want to learn. I don’t care to learn that Step 1 leads to Step 2 that leads to Step 3 that leads to the desired result. I want to learn what the desired result is.
If I ask you “Hey, what are you going to do with that nail?” I expect an answer other than “I’m going to hammer it.” Tell me why you’re going to hammer it. Do you need to pin a half-lap joint? Or is there a dude needs introducing to a wooden cross?
Moving on.
Lastly, I ask the question “Why am I so important?” To which he replies I have within me an extra universal entity he calls a ‘visitor’. That being oversaw my birth, chose my appearance, and did all sorts of things. Then abandonned me. Then came back at the beginning of the game. Their goal? I don’t know.
Then finally he asks for my help in ushering the Singularity. I accept. I take his hand, because why not; might as well see what happens, right?
Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to see Anomalie is ok, as I was wondering what might have happened to him after the Abyss stuff; but why is he here? Are Alpha and her sisters here also?
At this point the game unrolls some beautiful artworks, and tells me bits anent post-game MoonFall.
The Guild’s civil war is over. Lady Bathsheva and Black Saffron make a genuine attempt at reconciliation.
The Imperium manages to placate the syndicates, the shapers, and everyone else, by affording them a semblance of autonomy. Meanwhile the writhing, tentacled monstrosities have returned from whence they came.
While the Imperium is officially at peace with the Syndicates, officiously the former still holds the latters in abhorrence. Thus, the Imperium surreptitiously funds and train the Old Watch, so that Shrike and company might persevere in their crusade. As for Xai, he is gone. Where, no one knows.
Expectedly, the Mandate is wholly unaffected by all this, forging ever onward in their weird, secretive endeavors. Their doors are open to me, of course, having sworn the oath.
The Stormbreakers logically become the greatest power in MoonFall. Dejah and I get married. We adopt a throng of little girls orphaned by the recent conflicts, and raise them in the mercenary and seductive arts. With enough of them, we ultimately intend on invading the mainland.
Hostilities between the Imperium and the Iron Cartel cease. It is with little enthusiasm Thassia feels the weight of the crown sit upon her pate; though she at least enjoys all the creature comforts of her station, all paid for by the Iron Cartel.
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