The Grand Catastrophe

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In the back of the battle, in a building far way from the prying eyes of those in the battle, Calvaria and Yaldabaoth sat down at a well lit table. The room was of medium size. A large table sat in the middle, in which Momonga and Demiurge sat around, their disguises gone.

The mask on His face lay upon the table, temporarily discarded. Momonga was there, sat at the other end of the table. Her back lay pressed against the back of the chair she sat in. She listened close to what the NPC said in front of her.

“So, that leads us to now,” he said, a smile playing on his face, “now, the rest of the plan simply hinges on Pandora’s Actress,” he said, pointing to said Doppelganger.

There, standing by her creator’s side, was Pandora’s Actress. Right now, she had changed her appearance to that of Momonga when she played the part of Calvaria. Her now dark, black hair was braided, and wrapped around her head like a crown. While it slightly freaked out the overlord to see herself like this, it wasn’t the strangest thing that she had ever seen. So, in this instance, she let it slide.

“Then!” Pandora said, raising her arms up in wild ways, “I pretend to be you and get beaten up! All black and blue some would say!” She said, her voice high pitched.

“After that,” Demiurge interjects, continuing to smile, “is where I come in. I pretend to gloat, and show off. After that, you drop in right when I am to attack, as the Goddess Momonga.”

Momonga nodded her head, happy with the explanation so far. Though, one thing she was confused on had yet to be explained. The item that he had mentioned. She hadn’t known about or been told about that yet. She asked then, tilting her head.

“What of the Item you mentioned? Is there truly one you wish to use?” she asked, and he nodded his head.

Reaching into his inventory, he pulled from it a single item. A statue made of some sort of gold. It was a small statue of a demon, with ten arms, and in each hand of those arms was a different orb. A spark of recognition reached her mind.

“I believe I know that item,” she said after a beat, then deep smile graced her face.

The NPCs looked on at her. They had yet to see such a look come to her face in many days. In fact, they had never seen a smile this deeply etched upon her visage since forever. Mare, who was standing in the corner of the room, came closer to her. Just to see her face closer. The lot of them would bind this memory of her smile into their minds forever.

Even the emotional suppression was having a hard time removing this smile from her. Yet she let her lips drop to the wayside all the same. It was a shame, that such a gorgeous smile couldn’t be seen for long.

“I remember When Ulbert showed me that,” she said, relaxing her shoulders as the memory came unbidden to her mind, “I was in the middle of writing something down. I think it was the baseline code for an NPC that never came to fruition. He came to me, babbling about how cool this new world class item that her heard about was,” she said, and paused.

Then she leaned forward, and placed her elbows upon the table. It creaked in retaliation. She ignored it and spoke some more.

“He said something about wanting to make his own version of it. He even gave me the prototype” she explained, and the NPCs were shocked to hear that

It was then she pulled said item from her own inventory. It was a similar item as the one that Demiurge had. Yet, This one only had three arms. It was also the wrong color, a deep green. It didn’t look wrong, simply older and slightly incorrect for what it was made to do.

“He gave me this. Then complained about it a little bit. After that, he ran off to grab some more supplies and tried making the one you have on the table, Demiurge. In fact, use this prototype. He would want you to have it,” she told them, her tone deep and emotional.

The NPC in question looked on at what was on the table. His mouth hung open, in disbelief. It was strange to see such a thing on his face. His mind could barely comprehend such a gift.

He kneeled, arms outstretched as he reached for the item. She grabbed it, and plunked it onto his hands. He took it to his seat, as if it were a holy relic, like the blood of Christ himself.

Momonga looked on at him, smiling as he gained control over himself once more. Then, he began to explain the plan once more. His voice was slightly shaky now. Yet, that was fine in her book. As long as the plan went off without a hitch.

“There are four different merits to what we have planned. You asked me to set them up, so here they are,” he told her.

“Four? I had only thought of three. You have me beat there,” she said, and he waved her off.

“I believe that this is the first time that I have beaten you in a game of wits, My Lady,” he said, and she waived him off as well.

“Oh, come off of it. You have me beat in the matters of the mind all the time, Demiurge,” she spoke.

“The first merit is all the materials we shall attain. The second is reputation that Momonga the goddess she gain. The third is the humans gathered from this. The fourth is the distraction and misdirection that people shall arrive to when they look at our involvement with Eight Fingers,” he explained.

Momonga nodded her head. This all made sense to her. He had done all that had been asked of him, now they were to execute that plan.

She got up from her chair, and turned to Mare, who had shimmied ever-so closer to her while the talk went on. She spoke, her voice motherly.

“Mare, could you set off the signal for the final part of the plan to start?” she asked, and he nodded in return.

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