13.845 Billion years after 'Creation' – Astral realm – Pocket dimension 43,028.
"Fuck me No. 181, but that was a fucking balls up and a half. No Agents they said. None! A strictly observations run and nothing else. I must have been fucking certifiable to believe a fucking HR operative knew which way was fucking north, let alone had good information on field conditions."
An indistinct humanoid figure paced over the pristine white sand of the shore they stood on, as a dangerous red hue lit the grey smoke that formed it from within. Another of the figures stood to the side seemingly staring out over the sapphire waves towards the horizon.
The first Humanoid turned to face the other, the red light deepening as it spoke.
"Forty -eight billion souls No 181. Lost! All because some arse with no field experience couldn't even do the job they were supposedly created to fucking do!"
No. 181 held both its arms up in front of it.
"I know No. 387. Trust me, I know. Me and No. 560 went over the data we have on hand with a fine-tooth comb and we both agreed we'd have done exactly what you did. There was no hint of Agent Dyrznaz was there until he struck, and it would have all been over a lot sooner if you didn't go off Code. But..."
"That's what their going to focus on, that I went off Code. And their going to pin me to the wall to save their own arses because of it." No. 387 said the red hue dimming, if not disappearing entirely, as it turned towards the ocean. For a while all that was heard was the soothing sounds of the waves, probably why No. 181 chose to have the discussion hear No. 387 thought to itself as it shook its head.
"So, what's been decided then? I suppose I'm not lucky enough for it to be a dismissal, right?"
"No. You aren't." No. 181 snorted a laugh then sighed. "No. They offered you up. You do one more run, a run chosen by the Goddess of course, and the debt is paid in full."
"Shit."
"Right. We both know what's been in the pipe line for the last while and your 'unlucky' enough to be on the call of one of the participants just as it starts."
"Fuck me. A Game." No. 387 says softly then turns its head towards the other being "Their dumping me into a Game because they fucked me and another forty-eight billion souls up by the numbers."
Once more the sound of waves is the only noise as the minuets pass by until No. 387 finally askes "So, give me the details. How bad is the car crash going to be?"
"Your patron is the third wave Goddess Aaluran. Chaotic Good. Titles are, The seductive one and Patron of the arts. Her Domains are Art, Chaos, Pleasure and Good. No black marks and four commendations. Personal notes say she's not one to go by the book and doesn't expect it of you and she's just looking for you to put in an entertaining show. Win or lose your free after the times up. Your headed to the Ortis System, named after one of the local sun Gods. A class G yellow star with six planets and two belts, but more specifically the planet Astal. A typical Terran world with two moons and an orbital ring. Currently in the very early stages of PL 7. The unusual thing is the existence of the Weave present in the system. So, it's a blend of magic and technology kind of like Convorian was at its height. The rules of the Game are. One second." No. 181 breaks off as it holds it hand out to catch the clay tablet that appeared mid-air as if on que.
"Let's see. Twenty-seven Patrons all in all with interference being allowed. A partial but thorough mind block for any starter with a fifteen-year truce from start then a fifty-year time limit. Permanent death is enabled, and a stage three system to be installed on entrance. Start will be randomized but loosely based on the Patron. No real end goal so it looks like a live to the end kind of deal, with the winner being decided on points, again based on the Patron. And before you ask, no, the points list hasn't been listed here." No.181 adds on as it see's No.387 start to ask that very question, passing over the tablet to the other figure to read for its self.
"Perma death. Fuck my life. You see any way out of this? Don't fancy ceasing to exist because of some third wave brat." Throwing the tablet into the waves No. 387 turns to face No. 181, the red light now completely gone from its form.
"Sorry."
No. 387 sighs at the genuine regret it hears in its companion's voice as it turns to face the sea once more.
"Better get started then, friend. It will take some time for the red tape to get done with but like fuck am I waiting around just to stew."
An arm is placed on its shoulder and a golden light starts to form surrounding it.
"Good luck No. 387. When you get back we'll head out to that little hut on the Outer Edge. Fish us up some Blacklight."
Any more that might have been said to it was unheard as its consciousness was already falling down into the darkness off a physical form, ready for a new start.