Prophecy Approved Companion

“Hello,” Qube replied to the creature wearing the skin of her best friend. Because Qube was nothing if not polite. But she knew that this was not the Chosen One. There was no physical difference, like when he had become Chosen. Perhaps if there had been another massive shift in his physiology she might not have noticed the subtler changes. The slight difference in body language, the change in how he looked at her, even the way he held himself were all off.

“Let’s talk,” the not-Chosen-One said. Two armchairs suddenly appeared in the middle of the coliseum. Qube felt sweat drip down her spine at this casual display of power.

“Of course!” she chirruped, sitting down and straightening out her robes. She looked up from this inane task to see the being opposite her watching her actions with interest. It tilted its head at her, and the gesture looked so unlike the Chosen One that it almost hurt to see his body perform it.

She looked at the Save Point, still sparkling in place. The devs existed beyond that Save Point. Clearly they had possessed the Hero to test her.

“What do you want?” it asked in the Chosen One’s voice.

“To save the world,” she replied instantly.

It nodded, slow and thoughtful.

“And after that?” it asked.

Qube hesitated. But last time she had been tested she had been too circumspect, and so had failed the test. She would not make the same mistake.

“I want to research the Temples,” she said, the words almost tumbling out of her. “I want to find out why they are the way they are, what powers them, and whether or not they’re sentient.”

The thing before her snorted in amusement.

“The irony of that…” it trailed off.

“Excuse me,” Qube asked, almost timidly. It looked at her. “Who are you?”

Surprise flared across her childhood friend’s face, warring with excitement.

“You can tell I’m a different person?” it asked, jumping to its feet. Qube wanted to point out that the Chosen One wasn’t exactly in the habit of summoning armchairs out of thin air, but bit her tongue.

“That’s amazing!” It started circling her, studying her from top to bottom. It was extremely uncomfortable to remain sitting under such circumstances, but Qube forced herself to stay still.

“Wait, if that is not the Noble Patron —” Sewer Bard started to interject. The body of the Chosen One sharply turned its head, pinning Sewer Bard with a look.

“[Stop]. [Move]. [Wait].” It barked, pointing at the three companions. Sexy Screamy Spider Lady, Definitely Bad Guy, and Sewer Bard all lept to attention, walked as far away from the centre of the coliseum as they could, and stood there. It looked back at Qube and smiled that heart-breakingly familiar smile. “I don’t want them interrupting,” it explained easily.

Qube nodded so fast she thought her head would fall off. The sheer amount of power it had at its disposal was terrifying. It made sense, though; this was the force behind the Golden Prophecy’s control.

“So, the world is saved, and you want to study it.” It resumed its circling of her.

“Well, yes, the Golden Prophecy doesn’t mention what happens afterwards, so I thought maybe the Chosen One and I could go around researching things…” It occurred to Qube that there were few people less likely to be interested in studying things than the Chosen One. “Or at the very least he can enjoy breaking things and I can try and figure out why things break the way they do.”

The being paused its rotation to study her. It looked perplexed.

“You want to use the Chosen One as a tester?” it said, with a ghost of a laugh. Its eyes bore into hers, far more focused than the Chosen One’s had ever been. Even at his most inhuman, she knew in her heart that the Hero still cared for her. The devs, though — who knew what they cared for?

“Only if he wants to! He likes testing things!” It continued looking into her eyes. “Will the others be getting tested?” Qube asked, desperate to break eye contact. The creature glanced at the three figures shunted off to the side. Squiggles had wandered over and was sniffing them.

“Yeah, probably, after we sort through your data,” the possible-devs shrugged. “You’re the most likely candidate, so we wanted to check you out first.”

“The most likely candidate for what?” Qube asked, fighting to keep her voice even.

The creature suddenly looked caught out.

“Uh, for a thing,” it said, shifting uneasily. “It’s too complicated to try and explain to you. You… you wouldn’t be able to understand it, anyway.”

“I would love to try and understand it, though!” Qube said earnestly. “Maybe you could give me just the basic outline?”

“No, too complicated,” the creature replied. “Your head would explode. Or you’d go rogue. Speaking of which, what are your thoughts regarding the devs?”

“You’re the devs, yes?” Qube clarified.

“I’m a dev,” the dev stressed. “There’s a team of us.”

Qube filed this information away for later. “Did you all make the world together? And all of us?” she asked.

“Pretty much,” it replied. “Well, we used something else to make the world.”

“So things existed before the devs? What made the devs?” The dev winced.

“Pass,” it said quickly.

Qube thought about her next question. The devs had made this world, and everything in it. Therefore they had the answers to everything. So she could ask anything. For a moment she was paralysed by indecision. There were so many things she wanted to ask!

“Did you write the Golden Prophecy?”

The dev looked vaguely guilty.

“Yeah, that was mostly me,” it admitted.

“Why did you write it?” Qube asked. The dev looked off into the distance, as if weighing up how much it could tell her without her head exploding.

“We needed to… guide someone. The Chosen One. But also to make sure that no one in this world went and did something crazy.”

This world? Qube’s ears perked up at this. Were the devs not from this world then? Or was it just using that as shorthand for the world of mortals?

“You see, there’s been incidents. Not in reality, but like… in stories. Of what happens when ...“ it paused, clearly picking its words very carefully. “Those who are not the Chosen One get access to Chosen-One-only information. They tend to go mad and try to destroy the world.”

It paused again, gathering its thoughts.

“We didn’t think that this world we’d made would have anyone capable of... being too much like the Chosen One. But then you came along.”

Qube felt numb.

“I… what?” She was close to getting access to Chosen-One-only information? Was that because their bond was too strong? Or something to do with the Evil Emperor’s curse? Was this about her indirectly accessing the Save Point? Or was the reason she could see the Save Points nothing to do with their bond and everything to do with her being too much like the Chosen One? But Sewer Bard could also see it!

“And you seem to be… infecting... others.” It glanced at the other party members. “And none of us are sure how or why you happened in the first place. Not the base you, I mean, but the current you.”

“But you made this world, and everyone in it! Surely you knew this would happen?” Qube burst out. The dev wrinkled its nose.

“Not really?” it said. “And now we’re all worried about what you might do.”

“But I would never try and destroy the world!” Qube protested.

“Wouldn’t you?” the dev asked her, bringing its full attention to bear down on her. “Can you truly, honestly say that nothing, nothing would ever make you want to take revenge on those who made you? Who made this world full of suffering and pain? Who made Evil?”

Qube recoiled slightly from the intensity.

“Did you… also make Evil?” she asked, quietly.

The dev subsided.

“Yes,” it said eventually.

“Why?”

Qube noticed the dev had goosebumps on its arms. It was looking at the floor now, as if unable to meet her eyes. It shrugged.

“I dunno, there needs to be balance between good and evil or something like that.” The dev winced. “I can’t believe I just said that. So cliché.”

“But you made everything!” Qube protested. “Surely you could control that?”

But the dev seemed to have found some kind of groove.

“We needed to,” it mumbled. It rallied, pulling itself together. “We needed to! We didn’t know! How were we supposed to know that there would be people like you in here? Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused?” It practically glared at Qube.

“But you made me!” Qube cried.

“Not from scratch!” the dev declared. “You think we would have accepted — look.” It visibly tried to pull itself back together. “Look. It’s like… it’s like spells, okay? You cast the spell, you use the magic, but you didn’t make the mana in the first place, right?”

Qube nodded uncertainly.

“Right. So we wrote the spell to make this world, and we used the magic to cast it, but we didn’t make the mana. I don’t even understand it. I just wanted to make cool stuff. I never signed up to have to deal with this kind of existential angst. But noooo, I ‘know all the lore,’ so of course I’m the one who has to deal with this conversation. I’m not even the one who got us the engine! That’s Alex, and their stupid uncle! They should be the ones dealing with this, not me!”

The dev froze, then hurriedly waved a hand. “Uh, those are technical terms, don’t worry about what they mean. Very technical. Don’t-uh, don’t think about it. Head explosions. Anyway. The point is, we were promised that it wouldn’t create things like you.”

Qube didn’t know how she felt about being called a “thing” by the very creature that had made her. Not great, that was for sure.

“So, yeah,” the dev said, seemingly running out of energy. “We wanted to check and see what you wanted.”

“Why me?” Qube asked. “Why am I too much like the Chosen One?”

The dev briefly closed their eyes and sighed.

“You know what? Why not.” It sat down in the armchair opposite Qube. “Because you’re special,” it said. “You… are unique.”

“Like the Chosen One?” Qube’s eyes were huge.

“Y-es,” it said hesitantly. “And so we wanted to give you a choice. Because it didn’t seem right, having you follow along with the whole quest when you are… special. But we couldn’t be sure, unless we spoke to you ourselves.”

Qube furrowed her brow.

“Does the Chosen One know I’m special?” she asked.

“They suspected you were,” the dev replied, somewhat grimly.

“Does this have something to do with the Evil Emperor’s curse?”

Several expressions flitted across the dev’s face, too quick for Qube to decipher.

“Yes,” it said eventually. “That moment…” it bounced to its feet again — it seemed to have real trouble staying still. “We think that’s what started this whole mess. And at first it was no big deal, but the longer it goes on and the more you impact the others — you’re changing everything.” It was pacing, back and forth, and Qube got the impression that this was part of a long standing debate. “And we don’t know if that’s because of you being ‘special’ or if everyone could become special, and what does that mean? What does it mean if we’ve made an entire world full of special people?”

It sped up its pacing.

“Some of the others think it’s too hard. We should just wipe this place, and start again. Something simpler, a clean start. They think you and others like you, special people, it’s too much of a risk. That you’ll try and kill everyone. But I don’t think so.”

It pivoted again and looked Qube square in the eyes.

“I made you. Not alone, not from scratch, but I made you. And you’re… special. I don’t know what this means, in terms of responsibility. But… well, what would make you happy?”

It was a heady experience, looking directly into the face of the being that had created you and your entire world, and them asking what you want. Or, well, your best friend who was currently being possessed by said being. Her friend…

“I want to continue on my quest,” she said, eventually.

“But I could just end it, in an instant,” the dev replied. “This whole world, in fact.”

“I know,” Qube replied. “But, well, you said it yourself. You don’t quite understand what is happening, or what it all means.”

The dev stood still, watching her.

“I don’t know what other worlds you’ve made. I don’t know who made the mana that you used. But I do know my world. I know my friends,” she gestured at the others, then at the Chosen One himself. “And I know that I love adventuring with them. It’s scary, and hard, but I’ve learned so much, and …” she took a deep breath. “It’s fun. It’s fun seeing new things, and figuring out how everything works, and helping the Chosen One break anything he can.”

The dev gave another soft laugh.

“And I know that you said you can just end the quest, but if you have a responsibility to me, then you have a responsibility to people like the Evil Emperor as well. You can’t just kill him; you made him, as much as you made me. And he deserves a chance to become special, too.”

The dev continued to look at her.

“In the stories,” it said slowly, “the … devs, as you call them, always made the mistake of ignoring their own creations’ wishes. Hubris, I suppose.” The dev drew itself up, throwing back its shoulders and continued grandly: “Very well. Continue on your mission. We will watch your progress with great interest. We will — well, I can’t really explain what we’ll be doing, but know this!” the dev pointed a finger at Qube.

“The fate of this world rests in your hands!”