BuyMort: Rise of the Windowpuncher - How I Became the Accidental Warlord of Arizona. Apocalyptic GameLit

The rest of my day was spent in the waiting room. It was comfortably appointed, fully furnished, and had a complicated vending machine against one wall. The broad box would cook small meals for you, and even offered wine pairings.

I reached out, some old part of me thinking I'd have to click buttons and choose something from the menu, but no more had I started imagining what I might eat than the room around me began to blur and transform, the colors swirling and blending until I found myself sitting in an opulent dining room.

It was wood-paneled, with images of Knowles scorched into each section, each portrayed telling some fable or lesson that I didn't know. The flooring was the same, though the shade of the wood used was paler and softer. It felt a bit like I was standing on a mattress.

There were circular tables, all covered over with pristine white tablecloths, their centerpieces flowers with candles set around them in a circle.

Between the panels were large, picture-glass windows. I stared through one and saw that this restaurant was floating gracefully in space. We were situated sideways to an enormous, glowing nebula, its colors glowing and shifting through the spectrum.

"Beautiful isn't it?"

I spun around, now noticing that a Knowle chef was standing there, waiting to gain my attention. Behind him lay a magnificent looking kitchen, all of the burners on, and all of them filled with sizzling pans and boiling pots. The aroma that hit me was amazing, and I started to truly appreciate how many morties Terna was spending on me.

He smiled, bowing while putting a hand up to hold his puffy hat in place. His fur was impeccably groomed, and he wore a pristine white chef's coat adorned with various interstellar culinary awards. He smiled, showing pearly white incisors that gleamed and sparkled.

"Welcome to the Maitre D' OnSite 5 Star Cuisine Generator. May we ever please you with our offerings," he said, his voice a rich, melodic rumble. "I am Chef Rekar, and it will be my pleasure to guide you through your dining experience today."

"Yeah," I answered, feeling out of place. "Thanks. So, what do I do now?"

He gestured grandly to the stunning view outside the window. "While you enjoy this celestial spectacle, allow me to help you choose the perfect meal. Our selection is vast, catering to the most refined tastes from Nu-Earth and Knowle cuisine. Let’s begin with something broad, shall we? We can narrow it down from there."

I nodded, doing as he had told me and gazing at the virtual yet so majestic swirl of superheated gases floating through space.

"Are you in the mood for something light or something hearty?" he asked.

"Something hearty," I replied, grinning. "I'm starving pretty much all of the time."

“Excellent choice,” Chef Rekar said with a nod. He swept an arm in the direction of the kitchen and I glanced over to see what he was doing, just in time to see a number of the cooking dishes disappear off their burners, the flames extinguished. “Now, do you prefer land-based meats, seafood, or perhaps a vegetarian delight?”

I raised an eyebrow. "Meat? You aren't talking any of the sapients, are you?"

"Surely not," he chuckled. "Any meat offered by the Maitre D' OnSite 5 Star Cuisine Generator is guaranteed to have been grown and harvested without harm to any sapient health."

Nodding, I thought about all of the different foods I missed. I had my bacon waiting for me, of course, and I wondered if the synthetic stuff offered here would compare. But really, I could test that out later. Here and now, I just wanted something new and high-class. A real celebration for the fact that I'd stood up for myself in court.

"Then I'd like to go with seafood," I decided, thinking of how long it'd been since I had any. Hundreds of years, seemingly.

The chef’s eyes sparkled. “Ah, a connoisseur of the ocean’s bounty! Very well. Do you lean more towards delicate flavors, like a perfectly steamed crustacean, or robust tastes, such as a richly grilled fish?”

“Delicate flavors,” I decided, eager to see where this would lead.

Chef Rekar smiled broadly, his sharp teeth glinting. “A refined palate, indeed. Allow me to present you with a few of our finest selections.”

With my attention focused entirely on him, he shook a hand in the air, and a menu appeared there as if by magic. He opened it, and as I watched the words and pictures swirled, the menu refining itself to showcase an array of beautifully presented seafood dishes. Each image was accompanied by a short, enticing description.

“May I suggest our signature Moonlit Scallops? They are poached to perfection in a fragrant saffron broth and paired with a crisp Chardonnay. The delicate texture and subtle sweetness will transport you to the ocean's depths.”

"It has to come with Chardonnay?" I asked.

"We're in your head, sir. Whatever choices I offer come from the limited scanning capacity I have over your mind. It can be anything you desire, so long as it is compatible with our system."

"Right. Okay."

He paused, allowing me to take in the details before continuing. “Perhaps you'd like to try our Starlight Lobster? It is gently steamed and served with a lemon-basil butter sauce, accompanied by a glass of exquisite Sauvignon Blanc. A symphony of flavors that will dance on your palate.”

I considered the options, each sounding more delightful than the last. “The Moonlit Scallops sound perfect,” I said, my stomach rumbling. I wondered if that was an automatic function of this ad space, or if it had happened in real life too.

“A splendid choice,” Chef Rekar said, tapping the menu. “You won’t be disappointed. And could I interest you in a side dish?"

I nodded, one cool and crunchy thing already dominating my mind. "Coleslaw. KFC style if you can."

Chef Rekar broke into a large, sharp-toothed and murderous grin. "You, sir, are a connoisseur. KFC Coleslaw is a rare, 5-star specialty and yes we will have that brought to you immediately upon menu exit. And what to drink, sir?"

"You said you know my mind, and I expect you know what pairs well with what. Give me the top 3 options and I'll pick from those."

He spun the menu in his hand like a top, then brought it to a standstill. Facing me were three different pictures of three different Nu-Earth wine bottles. “We have a few exquisite choices for you. First, a crisp and refreshing Riesling that will complement the buttery richness of the scallops. Second, a robust and slightly oaky Chardonnay that will add depth to the delicate flavors. Lastly, a light and bubbly Prosecco for a touch of effervescence to balance the meal.”

I thought for a second, giggling a bit and how ludicrously posh yet entertaining this whole menu had been. “I think I’ll go with the Riesling,” I decided.

“An excellent choice,” Chef Rekar said, bowing. “Your meal will be prepared and served shortly.”

The scene around me shimmered and faded, and I found myself back in the waiting room. The vending machine hummed softly as it prepared my meal. Moments later, the dish of poached isopod with butter, coleslaw, and a small glass of Riesling was ready, just as Chef Rekar had described.

Terna laughed when she saw me returning to the lounge area, dish in hand. "What are you spending my morties on now, Warlord?"

I shook my head and sat down to eat the small meal. "Nope, not a warlord anymore. I reject the title. From now on I am a pampered historical refugee."

"Pampered is right," Terna said. "Though, if you can adapt to your new role in the multiverse, I think that will not be difficult to accomplish, even without my help."

"Which I do appreciate, by the way," I said, mouth full of expensive seafood. I delicately took a sip of my wine, then smiled at Terna. "Assuming this goes our way, what’s next on our agenda?"

The hobb woman shook her head. "Not in here. Besides, there is no guarantee that this will go our way. The focus on Nu-Earth being used as bait was unexpected."

Tazha grunted, then cleared her throat. "Personal interest, I’ve no doubt. May is one of the most wildly inappropriate adjudicators the bench has seen in five decades. She also moonlights as a WindowPuncher historian. Still, her rulings tend to align with objective reality and fact-based analysis, so I am sure it won’t have any bearing on the hearing."

"How sure?" I asked. "What, exactly, happens if they deem me an abnormal threat to the affiliate?"

"They’d hand you over to BlueCleave," Tazha immediately answered. "That would put you directly under Axle’s control."

"But," Terna said, raising a hand. "That is unlikely."

I raised an eyebrow. "So you keep saying. Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?"

Terna chuckled at that. "I am too old for self-deception. That was driven from me long ago."

"And yet you believe in me," I replied. "Hard to hold both of those things in my mind at the same time, you know?"

Terna frowned. "You are worthy of belief. I was there, unlike many of these people playing pretend at historian. Analyzing minutia and ignoring the broader picture of what occurred. You saved us all from the Sleem, took down the Church, and eradicated the beholder threat. You personally have done more to help the many people stuck within the BuyMort than any other sapient I know of."

I paused in my meal and stared at her over the miniature wine glass. "Thank you, Terna," I said. "Here I was thinking you had me beat."

"Certainly not anymore," she sighed back. "After what we’ve been forced to do to survive on the world ship, I feel like it's never going to be what it was."

I reached over and patted the back of her hand. "It will be. We’ll get it all back, and then some. One way or the other. If I have to outlive whatever Axle has planned for me, I will. If not, things’ll move faster is all."

"Speaking of fast . . ." Tazha waved at the TV, dismissing the press coverage and reverting it to an official channel. "We have a notification here," she said.

We turned to the TV as one, preparing ourselves for the final decision.