Collide Gamer

“John, Lady Nightingale.” Emrik rose from his seat to greet the two arrivals.

“She gets a title? I see how it is,” the emperor of Fusion remarked with a chuckle.

“Do not rise for us,” the harpy added. She was in an absolutely stunning dress made from black gossamer. It was loose, but when she stood against light, her silhouette subtly contrasted against the rest of the fabric. It was incredibly enticing and yet so conservative. “Be seated, Speaker.”

Emrik did sit back down with impressive precision. He was a man of jagged edges, blunt talk and political pragmatism. A rare and admirable assembly of traits. Emrik was the definition of the grey man that got things done. “Thank you for the invitation.”

“You are always invited,” the lady of the night said. “Though I must leave you two to your devices. There are other guests to attend to.”

The round table Emrik was at stood in the isolated corner of a large, Baroque-style ballroom. Distant was the ceiling, polished was the floor, and manifold the decorations made from plaster, glass, and wood. Where it differed from the normal Baroque designs was the choice in colour. Midnight blue and purple worked with silver trims to create a harmonious but darker interplay of colours. Large windows opened up to a balcony carved into the side of the marble star fort that served as the foundation of the main Palace building.

It was Nightingale’s ballroom, one of many hidden away in the ludicrously sized star fort. The Palace alone had more space than they would ever know what to do with, so putting complexes like this in the even larger foundation was no problem.

“If you need anything, ring the bell.” Nightingale brushed over John’s cheeks with her feathers as she turned. As a proper gentleman should, he spent a few seconds admiring her wandering away.

All that separated the table from the dance floor was five steps. So little, yet so much, the elevation gave an overview over the entire crowd. Most of Fusion’s political elite was present, having flown into the area already in anticipation of the upcoming marriage. Because of the culling at the beginning of the Lorylim war, the crowd was less than half of what it used to be for similar events.

John hated to say it, but he could sense the difference in the quality of the people. There was a part of him that continued to hold onto the belief that every individual could bring value to a conversation, if harnessed correctly. Experience had long since shoved that part to the back of the line. Even if everyone COULD provide something valuable to a conversation, there were people out there that required too much energy to coax that something out of them.

Culling the people that got to hold important offices had led to a crowd that was cordial, that read the room and influenced it in equal measures, without anyone becoming overbearing. John had selected for capability over orthodoxy, so the final result was no dogmatic crowd either.

“Even now I wished that there would be some drawbacks to having made myself a monarch,” he said as he sat down next to Emrik. “Being above everyone in mental capacity is… isolating. If I didn’t have my women, I would likely go insane.”

“Strange to hear you speak of your superiority without an ounce of pride,” Emrik said. His Innate Ability made him extremely sensitive to changes in the air, a fact he had woven into a terrifyingly accurate emotional detection skill.

“I have pride in my erudite mind, I don’t have pride in being smarter than everyone else,” John clarified. “I like being smart, I like being competent, I don’t like how it messes with what I can expect from other people.” He groaned and slouched theatrically in the expensive, wooden chair. “Do you know how many people I and my haremettes beat into submission these last couple of weeks?”

Emrik sipped from a cup of tea. “Dozens?”

“Dozens,” John agreed. “It’s not that I do not understand the emotional reaction to suddenly having that much power, it’s that I know that, in the same situation, I wouldn’t go on a manic trip to conquer the world like they are trying to do. The lack of wisdom is staggering.”

“I find that entertaining, considering what you ended up doing.”

“After several months of sorting myself out.” John shrugged, then reached for the bell. He shook it. It did not ring. Keying the bell to a second one in the servant’s chamber was an old trick.

A maid came towards them quickly. Once more, this was a showcase of Aclysia’s teachings creating staff for official events like this. They were still one to two years out from getting proper graduates into the economy.

“How may I help you?” the graceful woman asked.

“A cup of tea for me, please,” John said, then shot Emrik a glance.

“I need a refill as well,” the brown-haired man said.

“Right away.” The maid took a swift bow, then took long, measured steps back towards the servant quarter.

“I do wonder if Aclysia will find herself at the end of many requests to join her noble structure specifically because people want to try and get first pickings on the maids.”

“Nobles recruiting maids… some would consider this a backwards step in society,” Emrik remarked.

“Would you?” John asked.

“I have enough faith in your morals to know coercion will not occur. That would be my only worry.”

John smiled, it was good to be respected by his chief political adversary. Well, his chief political adversary when it came to internal matters anyhow. Gatherings like this were extremely useful for talks like this. They also were a place of actual policy making now. This was his court in all ways that mattered. What reached his ears here, he could pen into law the next morning if he was so inclined.

“Beatrice informed me you were close to deciding a date for the next set of elections?” Emrik broached a serious topic.

No election had been held since before the Lorylim war. Though the people elevated by vote then technically still held positions in the House of Commons, that did not mean anything. Districts in Fusion were based on population, so they all needed reorganizing. The Parliament building had been located in the Hudson Barrier, lost to Tiamat. Most importantly, John had suspended the judiciary via martial law.

Giving power back to the people was one of his short-term goals. It would be less than before, but it would be more than nothing. John now reserved the final say in all matters of the government. Optimally, he would not use it a lot. At a minimum, he wanted the feedback mechanism of elections to inform him of what was important to areas in specific and the nation at large.

“Idea would be to make the announcement for the elections early in February and hold them in early March,” John answered the question. “I hope that would give everyone enough time to prepare and execute on their campaigns.”

“Doubtful, but it will be enough to get the ball rolling again,” Emrik responded.

“As with so many things, starting is the biggest hurdle.” The tea reached their table. John had no problem continuing the conversation with the maid present. Even if they had discussed state secrets, he trusted Aclysia’s staff to keep secrets. “I intend to make the announcement after the wedding.”

“Agreed.” Emrik put a spoon in the tea and began to stir. He had added neither sugar nor milk, it was a purely idle gesture.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” the maid asked.

“Some cookies, if there are any,” John requested.

“Of course, sir,” she said and bowed her head. Apparently ‘sir’ was the accepted neutral title used by the maids. Master (or Mistress) was reserved for specific individuals, after all.

“How is the party landscape developing?” John asked.

Emrik stopped stirring his tea. “I believe you would know better than me.”

“Perhaps, but I would like to supplement what intel I have.”

The Speaker of Commons hummed deeply. “Your approval rating is at 66,1%.”

“Depends on what question is being asked and who is doing the polling,” John defended himself. “66,1% is on the question of personal trust, I recall.”

“Indeed.”

“Why do you bring that up?”

“I was wondering how you would react. Your numbers have dropped.”

“I think the numbers have gotten more specific,” John pushed back. “On the question of my competence, I got a 97% confidence rating.” Those two polls told just a fraction of the story. John was still deeply popular among the inhabitants of Fusion. He had governed over a meteoric rise in wealth and had then saved them from becoming Lorylim-fodder. That did leave an impact. Simultaneously, the fact that he had reneged on his goal of a republic was, justifiably, on everyone’s mind.

Effectively, he had shown the entire world that he had let biases run with him for over a year. Now they were in a doubting period.

Emrik hummed and got back to stirring his tea. “The party landscape is shifting in response to the new situation.” He gestured out towards the inner circle of Fusion’s politics. “You are looking at the axis of the political wheel.”

The Gamer sighed, resigned to that fact. He wanted the voted officials to exist in their own bracket in the hierarchy, but that was utopian thinking. Of course party structures would emerge and of course those party structures would place those that had the emperor’s ear near the top. After all, why not push their agenda on two lanes simultaneously?

“I will institute a ban for nobles to be part of the regular legislative,” John promised, “but we both know that will only prevent so much.”

“It will still prevent some excesses.” Emrik was finally content with the state of his drink and took a sip. John followed the gesture. They both had a sip. Cookies were placed on the table. The maid bowed and stepped away, dismissed with a thankful smile. “I will do my utmost to position the republican factions as rivals to your aristocracy.”

“Thank you.” John had a wry but genuine smile on his face.

“You will want to think about what you will do once I am no longer here to stand in principled opposition to you,” the Speaker of Commons stated.

That took the smile off John’s face. Emrik was 62 years old and looked to be in his early forties. At level 84, he would likely live to around 150 years old, though John did not believe he was going to make it there. Emrik was deeply in love with his wife, who was barely above a mundane in strength. In John’s estimation, once Marcella passed Emrik would follow her within months. Broken hearts could do that.

“It is difficult to find men like you,” the Gamer agreed. “Just as difficult as getting an answer on the party situation out of you.”

Emrik blew air out of his nose at the quip. “The parties are consolidating. There is a general awareness that, since you now hold the ultimate veto and decision-making power, they need to have stronger backing.”

That was the simple and realistic outcome. John generally wished that a democratic system worked for the individual, but the reality of the matter was that individuals were a droplet in an ocean. For anything to move, a wave needed to be formed. In terms of his convenience, this was also a good development. It was much easier to talk to the representatives of five big parties than it was to speak to several hundred members of parliament.

“Hierarchy is inevitable,” the Gamer remarked.

“Indeed. The strongest emerging faction is my own,” Emrik spoke this plainly, without a hint of pride. Organizing coalitions had become so second nature to the political grey man that he felt nothing about it. Then again, he had never been one to show much emotion. Perhaps that was just the kind of man he had been from the beginning. “The Fusion Libertarians, the Economists, the Centralists and the Lake Party have been folded into the Republicans.”

“Abyssal Republicans,” John said for his own benefit. Emrik shrugged. He did not have the connection to the mundane side of things John suffered. “That unites the centre, left and right.”

“Left and right will cease to be a useful definition,” Emrik opined. “Parliament, the House of Commons especially, will be about the question of subservience or competition with the aristocracy.”

“Objectively, you have greater powers,” John pointed out. “The number of aristocrats that will be given law-making powers even within their own land is phenomenally limited.”

“Yet, it is not the power that is given that matters but the power that is exerted,” Emrik retorted.

“That is correct,” John gave immediately. A legal framework was worth nothing without the will to use it and the arms to enforce its decisions. The parliament might have the power to make laws for practically all of Fusion, but if the lawmakers saw that most people preferred the governance of the nobility, they wouldn’t bother making new laws. To that same extent, those that truly believed the nobility was correct would only pass laws that were mirrors of what was done successfully in the land of the lorded.

“The Wrath Party and Project Shield folded into the Crowning Party. They make up the monarchist wing of the emerging power structure. They are the second most influential. I expect them to rise to the first spot in a few decades at the latest.”

“No faith that the bias towards preferring a republic in people standing for office will keep matters balanced?” John asked.

Emrik shook his head, then emptied his second cup of tea. “It is difficult to compete with an immortal, effectively all-powerful monarch. As long as you keep making more good decisions than bad ones, the culture will inevitably tilt in your favour. This present moment, with the Awakened entering the Abyss, is the least popular you will ever be.”

“You are confident in that trend?”

“It is the reasonable outcome.” The Speaker of Commons took one of the cookies. They were bite sized, easily tossed into the mouth of the middle-aged man. Emrik chewed and added nothing more to that statement. John had to concur that further justification was unnecessary.

“So, we have the Republicans in one wing and the Monarchists in the other… What’s with those in-between?”

“A loose conglomeration of interest groups, informally led by the Supernatural People Party,” Emrik said. “They are keeping themselves unpredictable. Wise, if they want to be the swing voters.”

To that, John could only nod. It would doubtlessly happen throughout history that either the Monarchists or Republicans would gain enough votes to push their agendas through without relying on the other parties. Hopefully, though, the people in the middle would retain enough of a vote share to curb excesses from either side.

“What do you make of the Awakened situation?” John asked.

“A disruption, but a good one,” Emrik said. “It peppered the countryside with individuals that could stand up to you. Combined with Upstart, there are factors in the world now that will keep the pride of absolute rulers from becoming eternal shackles.”

The Gamer received a poignant look. That the man before him remained worried about what John could do was only healthy. John, in turn, was wondering how the Iron Domain would have developed if they had access to this new Technique. Could Arkeidos have been toppled? Would regular uprisings have forced him to accommodate people at least a little bit? Would he have enacted an even crueller regime to keep matters stable?

Knowing how competent the lich had been, John feared it would be the latter of the three.

John kept that to himself. Unnerving Emrik would not be productive. The Speaker sensed John was not saying something, but could only guess at what that was. Rather than drill into that topic, Emrik asked a different question, “You have more intel on this than me: how is the relationship between old and new Abyssals?”

“Complicated,” John put it to a single, unhelpful word. “After the war, we had roughly 400’000 people that were part of Fusion. What do you think we are up to now?”

“…500’000?” Emrik suggested, his voice expressing cautious doubt.

“750’000,” John stated. “Almost half of Fusion’s current population are Awakened now. This is after only about a month of integration efforts.”

“…How many…” Emrik’s voice was dry. He cleared his throat. It did not help. “…How many more do you think…?”

“1 in 100 is the most new Abyssals I would estimate, though I have nothing to base that on besides Europe’s data,” the Gamer responded. “Which would put the USA at about 3 million new arrivals total. Even the most conservative estimate I can make tells me there’s another 700’000 joining the current population number.”

“…Making any political estimations on what the parties will look like feels redundant with that intel,” Emrik stated.

“I don’t intend on letting them vote, not yet,” the Gamer confessed. “It will cause unrest, no doubt, but I have already been squashing the trigger happy types for the last two weeks. They will get the vote once they know enough about the Abyss to make informed decisions. I don’t want hippies or war hawks to influence decisions that are so different from the situation they know.”

“Probably a wise call,” Emrik agreed. “Are the percentages as drastic in other guilds?”

“No, we are in a very unique situation,” John responded. “The Abyssal population in the USA was abnormally small, largely because of the widespread violence leading to frequent death among the weak base. Simultaneously, the mundane population of the land area we now cover was incredibly huge. I mean, the entire European Union only has about 30% more people than us.”

Emrik raised an eyebrow at the word ‘us’. Once more, John had to shake his head at the barrier of life experience here. He had a lot more in common with these Awakened than most established Abyssals. Another boon that would make the integration a bit easier, hopefully.

“Let’s say the entirety of the Sons of Rome had 1 million Abyssals before,” John said. “An entirely fictitious number, to illustrate the point. In their territory, they already had 1 Abyssal per 150 mundanes, about. So if that now spikes to 1 in 100, they gain about 500’000 new people. A drastic increase, yes, but the old Abyssals remain in the majority. Of the major powers, it should be only us that gets the majority turned into a minority.”

“Historically, that would be catastrophic,” Emrik pointed out.

“Indeed. That’s where the youth of our nation manifests as its boon. The old Abyssals don’t have any privileges they jealously guard. As far as the national structures go, everything was still settling anyhow. The shock to our system is dispersed like a bullet fired into a grenade going off in a pool. For the rest of the world, it's like a bullet hitting a body.” John finished his own cup of tea. “I can say this again with confidence: if we make it through this, Fusion will suddenly go from the Divided Gates member with the least number of people to place two or three.”

“If your marriage with the Heavenly Jade Empress succeeds, you will end up with a world-dominating empire,” Emrik drawled.

“Baseless rumours,” John lied.

And his loyal opposition groaned.