Episode 129

It was a trippy sensation.

A crowd of "hims" existed simultaneously, each handling a different part of the workload like a well-oiled committee of one. Every sense was shared across the board; there wasn’t a hint of lag or a single "who’s on first" moment between his multiple selves.

"It’s huge... but I can cram even more in there."

Teiro scanned the digital void of [BISHOP CYBERSPACE] and began copy-pasting new functions into the empty gaps. He'd drop a fresh version of his consciousness into the slot to keep an eye on things, then hop to the next available bit of real estate.

"More. I need more."

He had 324 units to babysit. He’d already assigned eight functions to each one, but Teiro was aiming for at least fourteen. The more thruster and sensor control functions he could juggle, the more he could make those machines dance like acrobats on a sugar high. He’d never tried to run 4,536 control functions in parallel before, but right now, he felt like he could out-calculate a supercomputer while blindfolded.

“Booyah! Nailed a big one. Suck it, Enzio!”

“This one’s out of gas and dead in the water. Anyone need a hand?”

“Bingo! Medium-sized ship, coming right up—and down!”

“Watch out, the point defense over here is getting spicy!”

“Another one bites the stardust. This is too easy.”

He held strategy meetings with himself, hurled insults at himself, and shared a laugh with himself. Whether it was actually necessary or just him losing his marbles, he didn't know—and he didn't care.

Targets and the annoying laser beams they spat out. Thrusters and shields. He kept his units pushing forward, focused on a singular goal. It was mind-numbingly simple. It was no different than the subconscious effort of holding a spoon, chewing, swallowing, and keeping up a conversation over lunch.

“Man, it’s cozy in here.”

“Of course it is. We’re the kings of this castle.”

“No distractions. Just us and the data. Bliss.”

In the corner of his eye, he could see Marl and Koume’s faces. They seemed to be shouting something at him, but he couldn't be bothered to listen. He was looking at two worlds at once, but BISHOP’s realm was clearly the superior choice. No hunger, no stress, just pure, beautiful simplicity. Reaching the goal was the only thing that mattered. Everything else wasn't just unnecessary—it didn't even exist.

"I wonder what’s under the hood of these functions?"

"Only one way to find out. Take a peek."

"Look, there's a bunch of used-up ones over there. They haven't been purged yet."

Teiro grabbed a nearby function and peered inside. The [THRUSTER CONTROL FUNCTION] was a sardine can packed with tiny command lines and variables, refreshing at a blistering 120 times per second. Each individual command was a basic logic gate: Is this condition met? Toggle this switch. Crunch this number.

"Okay, so what’s inside the command lines?"

"Who knows? Let's crack 'em open."

"We’re staying here forever, anyway. Might as well learn the local geography."

Teiro leaned into a violently strobing command line and ripped it apart with digital brute force. A flood of glowing particles erupted, filling his vision like a bucket of stars spilled across the floor. The particles themselves were meaningless; the only thing that mattered was how the light clumped together. Where the light gathered thick, it was a 1. Where it was thin, a 0.

"It’s like a galaxy."

Teiro stared, absolutely captivated by the shimmering array of raw information. If he could just spend eternity drifting in this sea of data, life would be perfect.

"Just close your eyes. Let go."

His vision blurred into a hazy smudge, and a wave of heavy, soul-crushing drowsiness hit him.

"Eternity is right here. Just take it."

His knees buckled. He let his body sink onto the digital floor. He’d been buzzing with energy just a second ago, but now he felt like a battery drained to zero.

"We did good. We worked hard. Time for a long, long nap."

It was a tempting offer. Teiro slowly let his eyelids droop.

One of the "him"s standing nearby dissolved into a cloud of particles. Then another. And another.

Eventually, the legion of Teiros was gone, leaving only one.

"And... that's that."

The sparkling dust began to settle, fading into the dark.

But then, in the middle of that dying galaxy...

A single, lonely speck of blue light.

"...I have to go back."

He forced himself to sit up, though his body felt like it weighed a thousand tons. Even opening his eyes felt like a feat of Herculean strength.

He had things to do. Even in this place where he was a god, he couldn't do them here.

"Earth... I have to get to Earth!!"

"Guh—! Hack! Cough!"

Teiro lurched upright, hacking like he’d just swallowed a gallon of seawater. His vision was stained a terrifying shade of crimson, reflecting the bridge of the Plum. Marl’s face was inches from his, her expression twisted in a mask of pure panic.

"Teiro! Are you back? It's me! Do you know who I am? Here, wipe your nose!"

Marl gently dabbed at his face with a towel. It was instantly soaked in blood. Teiro stared at the red rag, his eyes widening.

"I’ve made it a rule... never to forget a beautiful woman... but damn, that's a lot of blood. Is it normal to leak this much from your face?"

"How should I know?! You’re going to pass out from blood loss if you don't stay down... Tell me the second you feel weird, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah... maybe I went a little overboard?"

Teiro muttered to the ceiling. Koume rolled over to his feet, her mechanical body clicking.

"That is a reasonable assessment, Mr. Teiro. You performed massive, high-speed calculations for a prolonged period under extreme stress. While the brain itself doesn't 'feel' tired, the rest of your meat-suit begs to differ. Thinking isn't a brain-only activity, you know."

"Yeah, fair enough. I'll be more careful... but I feel like I'm forgetting something."

Teiro slumped back into his seat, staring blankly at the overhead lights. His sinuses were throbbing, and his head felt like it was being used as a drum.

"Something important... eh, whatever. I'm starving. I could go for some pasta... AH!"

He bolted upright with a shout that probably rattled the hull.

"Enzio! What happened to the war? What day is it? Where am I?!"

"I believe calling the enemy a 'Pasta-Prick' is a bit uncalled for, even for you, Mr. Teiro."

"I didn't call them that! The pasta just triggered my memory! Seriously, what happened?!"

"What happened? You happened," Marl said, looking exasperated. "You took them all out. Don't you remember?"

Teiro blinked, a giant mental question mark appearing over his head.

"We are currently in a ceasefire while they consider our demand for surrender, Mr. Teiro," Koume reported. "The EAP made the proposal, and the Expeditionary Force is expected to begin disarmament shortly. For your information, it has been approximately two hours since you launched your attack with the [LARGE-SCALE WARHEAD WEAPON]."

"I was out for two hours? Wait, surrender? We actually won?"

"Yeah. And it was a nightmare without you," Marl sighed. "Bella took over for Rin and handled the field command. If she hadn't stepped up, we’d be space dust right now."

"Ahaha, sorry about that... So, did everything go according to plan after I checked out?"

"Indeed, Mr. Teiro. After your [MODIFIED MINE] strike, the fleet turned back for a second pass. It devolved into a chaotic close-quarters brawl. The EAP emerged victorious, though the cost was high."

"We lost seventy-five ships in total. And among them were..."

Marl trailed off, looking away. Teiro felt the weight of her silence and gave a somber nod.

"I see."

"Our company lost eleven ships... We're down to half our strength."

He accessed the fleet data through BISHOP. The list was grim. Eleven rows were highlighted in stark, bloody red. The casualty count sat at 587 souls.

"The Second Fleet was almost wiped out. Bella-san must have taken the brunt of the fire herself."

Knowing her obsession with responsibility and "face," Teiro figured she’d shoved her own units into the meat grinder to protect the rest. Her subordinates weren't the type to back down, and that kind of suicidal bravado probably kept the rest of the EAP from breaking.

"............Teiro?"

Marl leaned in, her eyes searching his.

"Oh, uh, I'm okay. Everyone knew the risks. Nobody expected to win a war without getting some scars."

Teiro leaned back, crossing his arms and staring at the ceiling again. He stayed quiet for a long time, his mind drifting back to that tiny blue speck he’d seen in his data-dream.

"...Why?"

His voice was a whisper, barely audible.

"Why do I... want to go back to Earth so badly?"

Teiro liked his life here in the Galactic Empire. He had people who needed him, and people he cared about. Sure, he felt nostalgic, but was it worth throwing all this away for a planet he barely remembered? He wasn't some kid who needed his parents, and even his memories of his family were getting fuzzy around the edges.

And yet, he knew with absolute certainty that he would keep chasing that blue dot.

"It’s not even a feeling anymore... is it a mission? An instinct? What the hell is driving me?"

His existential crisis was cut short by Koume’s chirping.

"Mr. Teiro, the Enzio Expeditionary Force has accepted our terms. We have a live feed with Mr. Rin and Admiral Lorenzo."

Teiro groaned, "I have to be there too?"

"Yes, you do. Patching you in now."

"Yeah, hi. This is Teiro, everyone's favorite target. What's up? Can't you just talk to Little Tokyo or Mr. Takasaki for this stuff?"

Rin’s dry, tired laugh crackled over the comms. "The other side insisted, Teiro-san. Besides, we can't exactly leave the man of the hour out of the victory talks."

"I just drew the blueprints and pushed the buttons. The EAP did all the heavy lifting and paid the bills. The warheads were literally Enzio’s own mines—we just put some cheap walkie-talkies on them."

"That may be, but money and labor are replaceable. A tactical genius who can manually control hundreds of warheads is not."

"Ugh. Fine. But I was mostly unconscious, so I don't feel very 'genius' right now. Is the Admiral there?"

"I am," a new voice boomed. [NEW PARTICIPANT: ADMIRAL LORENZO].

"Hey there. Teiro here, CEO of Rising Sun, proud partner of the EAP. So, uh—"

Teiro paused, trying to find the right tone for talking to the guy he just humiliated.

"Good game, everyone. I know there’s probably some hard feelings, but let's put that on the back burner for now."

"Hmph... I am Lorenzo of the Enzio Alliance First Expeditionary Fleet. I accept your sentiment... though it stings to know I was bested by a brat."

The bitterness was thick enough to clog a vent. Teiro gave a wry smile and moved to cut the small talk.

"If you hadn't chased us into the planet's orbit, I wouldn't have had the junk I needed to hit you. Anyway, what's the occasion? I don't really have the authority to sign treaties or anything."

"Oh, nothing so formal. I simply wanted to see the face of a potential future colleague."

"Come again?"

"You are a unique and brilliant asset. Once the dust settles, I shall ensure you are granted an appropriate rank and treatment within our ranks."

"Wait, what are you smoking? This wasn't a skirmish; you lost a [TOTAL WAR]. Enzio’s going to be carved up like a Thanksgiving turkey."

"Heh. Do you think so? We merely lost a single engagement. Why you believe that equates to winning the war is quite beyond me."

The Admiral’s voice was dripping with unearned confidence. Teiro felt a cold prickle of unease. It didn't sound like a bluff—it sounded like Lorenzo knew something they didn't.

"Morning, Teiro. Can I ask you a question?"

Before Teiro could respond to the Admiral, a voice came from behind him. He turned to see Etta rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Busy right now, Etta. Can it wait?"

He tried to be gentle, but what she said next made his blood run cold.

"Way out there. Right by our house on Katsushika. There are lots and lots of scary black ships hiding in the dark. Don’t we have to go find them and beat them up like usual?"