Making Game: CH 173 – Caliburn Launch (End of 3rd Arc) (Patreon)

Arthur walked along the quiet backstage corridor, casually twirling the blackened data puck between his fingers. The alloy casing was lukewarm against his palm. 

Arthur had to give Heliotronic Arts credit for their sheer persistence. They were certainly getting bolder with every passing quarter. Whether they were acting entirely on their own or being quietly backed by a coalition of other AAA publishers hardly mattered. In the broader scope of what he was building, their petty corporate sabotage was completely inconsequential.

He closed his fingers around the metal disc. With a sharp, muted crunch, the reinforced shell fractured into a shower of twisted foil and crushed silica.

He opened his hand, letting the pulverized fragments scatter across the polished flooring. A low chime sounded from a recessed wall panel, and a small, saucer-shaped cleaner compadre glided out across the tiles, smoothly vacuuming up the debris before rolling quietly back into its charging bay.

Arthur smoothed the hem of his dark tunic, keeping the sharp, regal presence of his Zagreus profile active as he stepped through the access doors leading to the backstage staging area.

Over by the primary equipment racks, Ratik was leaning against a console, sharing a light conversation with John Kepler.

Hearing footsteps, John turned his head. A broad, weathered smile warmed the man's features the moment his eyes landed on Arthur. He walked forward across the rubber matting, stepping into his son's space with familiar ease.

"You're still my bright star," John said gently, resting a heavy, calloused hand against Arthur's shoulder.

Arthur looked down at his father, his usual guarded demeanor softening into a sincere grin. "Dad, please. I'm the head of this entire company."

John simply chuckled, patting his arm. To him, corporate titles, industrial power, and galactic renown carried very little weight. His children could rise to command planetary conglomerates or conquer entire star systems, yet his affection for them would remain identical to the day he first held them in his arms.

Dorian looked closely at his father's face. The transformation over the past year had been profound. The sustained regimen of divine ambrosia combined with regular restorative resonance sessions from their Clefairy had revitalized his cellular health. 

At nearly one hundred and ten standard years of age, John looked remarkably robust. Dorian could see faint, happy smile lines creasing the corners of his father's eyes, lines that had been completely absent during their grim, exhausting years in the slums of Nexus Prime. Time was still moving forward, yet John was aging with joy and dignity.

A sudden, resonant thud echoed beside them.

Marcus stepped up beside his father, driving his fist firmly against his own chest. The teenager had shot up to a towering one hundred and ninety centimeters, his broad shoulders and long reach already making him taller than Dorian himself.

"Go forth, my brother!" Marcus declared with a fierce grin. "Lead the charge, just like Commander Erwin from that story you used to tell me!"

At nearly sixteen years old, Marcus was rapidly growing into a formidable Solar combatant, carrying an intensity that demanded respect. Yet whenever Dorian looked at him, he still saw the little boy who used to cling tightly to his sleeve. 

He remembered spending endless evenings by the bedside whispering tales of ancient heroes, soothing childhood tears after rough days at school, and protecting him from the harsh realities of the world. 

It felt as though those hard days had happened only yesterday, and seeing his younger brother standing tall and self-reliant brought a deep, quiet warmth to his chest.

From the nearby equipment bench, Lyra leaned back against a steel crate, rolling her eyes with practiced poise.

"Just do what you always do, brother," Lyra said smoothly. "You got yourself this far across the stars."

Lyra remained the steady middle child, constantly stepping up to play the stern older sister whenever Marcus let his energy run wild. His brilliant little sister was already nearing her academy graduation, advancing through higher-level administrative tracks with terrifying speed. 

Dorian fondly recalled walking past her study recently, catching a brief glimpse of an ambitious goal board pinned above her terminal with the word "Senator" written boldly across the top. She had immediately shoved him out into the hallway with burning red cheeks, yet the display had said everything. 

Blessed with fierce natural intellect, relentless discipline, and clear ambition, she was destined to surpass anything he had ever achieved on his own.

Marcus immediately frowned across the staging floor. "You are jinxing him by saying things like that, sis!"

Lyra shot him a sharp, unimpressed look. "Shut it, Marc."

Dorian watched the two of them trade glares, letting out a quiet, relaxed laugh.

Dorian Kepler. Arthur Pendragon. Percival.

To the wider galaxy, those three names belonged to completely different figures. Dorian was the fortunate heir of an agricultural estate, an unexpected newcomer rising among the ranks of the new money class. 

Arthur was the undisputed creative titan leading the premier software and entertainment house in the Accord. 

Percival was the enigmatic musical genius who continually birthed new genres and elevated forgotten voices into interstellar sensations.

Beneath the digital projections and secret aliases, the guiding intent remained singular. Dorian held very little personal desire for galactic prestige or commercial supremacy. 

From the moment he picked up his tools, his focus had been fixed on one purpose: to carve out a peaceful, secure corner of the stars where his family could truly be happy.

…

The golden digital numbers of the live countdown on the central screen flickered down to their final seconds.

00:03... 00:02... 00:01... 00:00.

The timer dissolved into a split second of pitch-black silence. A deep, resonant brass note swelled through the audio channels, joined by the rising harmony of an ancient orchestral choir.

A cinematic animation unfolded across millions of viewing terminals.

A desolate, mist-shrouded valley came into view under a pale dawn sky. Footsteps echoed heavily against wet stone. A lone figure strode forward, clad from shoulder to sabaton in glimmering silver plate armor draped with rich, royal blue ceremonial cloth.

The camera slowly tilted upward, tracing the intricate filigree etched along the breastplate. The knight wore a crested visor identical to the ranks of armored sentinels flanking the misty path, yet as this figure advanced, the other warriors lowered their lances and stepped aside in quiet deference.

The knight approached an ancient, moss-covered boulder. Driven deep into the solid granite was a pristine longsword, its crossguard shaped like spread wings. Without hesitation, the silver gauntlet closed around the hilt. With a clean, ringing hum that reverberated through every speaker, the blade pulled free from the stone.

The warrior raised the sword toward the morning clouds. As the edge caught the sun, an immense silver and blue banner bearing the Round Table Studio crest unfurled into the sky behind him.

The camera panned up into the radiant light, dissolving the animated vista and transitioning smoothly onto the physical stage on Friton.

Arthur Pendragon sat composed at the replica round table, looking tall and dignified. A warm, confident smile touched his face.

"Hello, knights," Arthur said, his voice carrying clearly across the broadcast feeds. "I welcome you all to the Caliburn launch."

Inside his streaming booth, Roric shot straight up out of his ergonomic chair. He stared wide-eyed at the screen, then looked down at his tailored charcoal three-piece suit and luminescent silver tie.

"Shit!" Roric shouted, throwing his hands in the air with theatrical outrage. "We're both wearing suits! How in the world does he look that much better than me?!"

His viewer chat immediately flooded with laughing emotes and playful mockery:

>: "We feel your pain, Roric.">: "The universe simply isn't fair sometimes.">: "Arthur has that legendary protagonist aura, while you look like an insurance broker.">: "Comparing yourself to Arthur was your first fatal mistake, bro.">: "Sit back down before you burst the seams!"

Back on the main stage, Arthur rested his hands flat against the wooden surface of the table, letting his gaze sweep across the camera drones.

"From the studio that brought you the calming farming life of Stardew Valley…" Arthur began.

The chat window on the official stream cascaded in an instant frenzy:

>: "Stardew Valley mentioned!">: "Calming? Completing the Skull Cavern runs gave me high blood pressure!">: "I still have a grudge against Morris, Arthur! There was zero peace in that valley!">: "Best farm simulator in galactic history, no debate."

Arthur paused for a heartbeat, his smile widening slightly. "...to the grueling challenge of Hades..."

The feed roared in response:

>: " HELL YEAH!">: " Hades yeah!">: "HADES II WHEN?!">: "Release the sequel, you coward! My Stygian Blade is ready!"

"...to the adventurous journey of Pokemon..." Arthur continued.

The scrolling text moved so quickly it turned into a blur of color:

>: "Give us Sinnoh next!">: "Trade my firstborn child for the next expansion right now!">: "More regions, please! We're ready for more badges!"

"...to the silent journey of Sky..."

>: "Sky made me cry like a child on an orbital shuttle.">: "The flight physics in that game are still untouched.">: "Such a beautiful, quiet masterpiece."

"...all the way to the thrilling hunts of Monster Hunter," Arthur finished smoothly.

>: "RATHALOS HUNTERS STAND UP!">: "Give Levi a massive raise!">: "Time for more elder dragons!"

Before Arthur could continue his retrospective, heavy footsteps echoed across the wooden staging riser. Tristan, the studio head of production. He was pushing a bright, compact wheeled cart carrying a colorful, spherical capsule toy dispenser.

Arthur turned his head with exaggerated surprise. "Oh! What's this? It seems our production head brings us something special."

Tristan came to a stop beside the table, resting one hand atop the glass dome of the gacha machine while casting a dry, deadpan glance at the director.

"Well, well, Arthur," Tristan remarked, raising an eyebrow. "Are you planning to spend our precious viewers' time simply listing our games?"

Arthur chuckled softly, pushing his chair back to stand up. "You're completely right, Tristan. We gathered here today to unveil our virtual reality seat."

They walked side by side toward the opposite wing of the elevated pavilion. Positioned atop an illuminated display plinth stood a large, curved object concealed beneath a heavy midnight-blue silk cloth embroidered with silver knotwork.

Tristan took hold of one corner of the fabric, glancing across at Arthur. "Shall we reveal it, Art?"

Arthur gave a firm nod. "Let's show them."

Together, they pulled the silk drape away in a single, fluid motion.

The final commercial model of the Caliburn VR seat stood revealed under the midday sun.

The machine was breathtaking. The frame was sculpted from pristine white composite alloys, flowing in clean, aerodynamic curves accented by deep royal blue panels and brushed silver trimmings. The semi-reclined bucket seat was lined with dark memory foam, flanked by integrated sensory armrests and an overhead neural synchronization arch that rested above the headrest like a crown. It looked less like an appliance and more like a high-tech command throne.

Arthur stepped closer, resting a hand along the smooth outer shell as he transitioned into the technical breakdown.

He explained the core architecture of the hardware, detailing the decentralized mesh nodes that allowed units to form independent relay bridges across star systems, bypassing the lag-heavy routing hubs of conventional networks. 

Tristan stepped in to highlight the sensory feedback array, pointing out the localized micro-haptic actuators embedded throughout the seat lining that delivered physical resistance without intrusive invasive implants.

"One of our core design priorities was universal accessibility," Tristan explained, addressing the camera drones. "The interior cradle features an adaptive pneumatic structure. Every registered sentient species listed on the official Stellar Accord roster can sit, calibrate, and achieve full neural synchronization straight out of the crate without purchasing third-party physical adapters."

Arthur gestured toward the base of the pedestal. "The platform remains modular. Players who desire specialized control rigs, aesthetic accent shells, or tailored physical feedback modules can easily attach them through the external expansion ports."

Tristan crossed his arms, gazing down at the pristine hardware before looking back toward the primary lens.

"A truly magnificent piece of engineering, Arthur," Tristan said, pausing with deliberate dramatic weight. "However, how much does this machine cost our players?"

Before Arthur could speak, quick, energetic footsteps tapped across the stage floor.

Bedivere skipped into the frame. She stopped beside the colorful gacha cart, resting her elbow on the metal frame with an innocent, mischievous grin.

"Well," Liseli asked, pointing a finger at the glass dome, "isn't this machine sitting here for that exact reason?"

She reached down, took firm hold of the metal crank on the front of the dispenser, and twisted it with a sharp, mechanical clatter.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

A gleaming capsule colored in bronze tumbled down the internal spiral chute, landing in the retrieval tray with a soft chime.

Liseli snatched the capsule, cracked the shell open with a quick flick of her thumbs, and pulled out a rolled strip of glossy white paper. She unrolled the slip, read the printed figure, and let out a sharp, audible wince.

"Oof," Liseli said, scrunching her nose playfully at the lens. "It's pricey, alright." She turned the slip outward, holding it directly in front of the primary camera drone. Bold holographic numbers expanded into the air above her hand:

159,999 Credits.

The viewing channels shattered into absolute pandemonium.

Revealing the initial price through a whimsical capsule dispenser had been Arthur's personal idea. In truth, it was a quiet tribute to his Creator System, when merciless gacha rates routinely sent his blood pressure through the ceiling.

Arthur snapped into character with exaggerated alarm, throwing his hands up as he took three steps back from the display.

"Whoa, whoa, hold on a minute," Arthur said, staring at the slip in Liseli's hand. "That's absurdly expensive."

The public broadcast feed instantly agreed, though a handful of tech enthusiasts offered a different perspective:

>: "My personal bank account just flatlined across three systems.">: "To be fair, for a decentralized quantum relay node with full neural haptics, 160,000 credits is comparable to baseline Accord military flight simulators.">: "I would've to pawn my atmospheric skiff and work double shifts at the refinery for a year!">: "Arthur, please, we're working-class citizens!"

Tristan folded his arms, turning toward the director with a deadpan expression. "Well, Art, what do you propose we do about this?"

Arthur stepped directly up to the central camera drone, looking straight into the lens with earnestness. "Knights, I need everyone watching across the stars to lend us your good fortune. Send us your energy. Let's re-roll this machine."

The community jumped into the routine without hesitation:

>: "TAKE MY BLESSING! TAKE IT RIGHT NOW!">: "Channeling my ancient race ritual through the screen!">: "I'm willingly sacrificing my luck for the next two years for this price drop!">: "Sending pure positive vibes from the Orion system!"

Liseli stepped between Arthur and the camera, waving her hands in playful protest. "Wait, wait! You can't simply spin again right away. A blessing drawn from all star systems takes time to travel and gather in one place. How about you all enjoy something special while the universe gathers your good fortune?"

Arthur, Tristan, and Liseli smiled together at the lens.

"Enjoy," they said in unison.

The chat cascaded with anticipation:

>: "OOOHH, IT IS TRAILER TIME!">: "NEW GAME INCOMING!">: "Show us the games!"

…

Far away on Sela, Zoye Raves stared at his wall-sized holoscreen, a deep sneer curling his lip.

He found the theatrical display insulting. To a high-ranking corporate executive from the Core Worlds, Arthur's speech patterns sounded unrefined, carrying the distinct cadence of someone raised far out in the rugged planetary territories.

Yet beneath his contempt, a cold irritation was quietly taking root.

Why was the presentation moving forward without a hitch? The lighthearted stage antics felt like a deliberate mockery designed to taunt him. Zoye sat with his fingers clamped tightly around his crystal glass, waiting for the catastrophic crash that should have occurred minutes ago.

…

The broadcast screen dissolved to black.

A low, haunting hum of strings echoed through the speakers, followed by the crisp sound of silver chains rattling against cold flagstones.

A cinematic teaser illuminated millions of viewing screens.

The camera glided through a subterranean cavern illuminated by the pale, eerie glow of a spectral moon. A tall, athletic woman stepped into the light, wearing dark leather armor adorned with shimmering runes. Her head turned toward the viewer, revealing mesmerizing heterochromic eyes, one green and the other a vibrant crimson, a visual mirror of Zagreus.

She lifted a curved crescent blade, her voice carrying a cold, ancient fury as she spoke the name of the primordial Titan of Time: Chronos.

The chat box ruptured into pure delirium:

>: "CHRONOS?! DID SHE JUST SAY CHRONOS?!">: "LOOK AT HER EYES!!">: "IS THAT HIS SISTER?!">: "HADES II IS REAL! HADES II IS ACTUALLY REAL!"

Before the audience could catch their breath, the scene snapped into a burst of bright daylight and cheerful brass melodies.

The camera swept across a sequence of varied landscapes. The familiar routes of Kanto and Johto flickered past, followed by the sprawling tropical waterways of Hoenn. Then, the frame pushed into entirely uncharted territory.

Snow-capped mountain peaks pierced the sky above dense pine forests, ancient stone ruins rested in quiet meadows, and expansive northern prairies stretched toward the horizon. A rapid sequence of completely unfamiliar creatures dashed through the tall grass, their silhouettes tantalizingly obscured by radiant sunlight.

>: "SNOW ON THE PEAKS?! NEW LANDSCAPE!">: "SINNOH IS REAL! LOOK AT THOSE NEW POKÉMON!">: "I SAW A LITTLE BLUE PENGUIN! WHAT WAS THAT?!"

The cheerful horns abruptly dropped into silence.

A melancholy, resonant piano piece filled the audio channels, accompanied by the gentle patter of rain against cold stone. The visual style shifted completely, unveiling a hand-drawn world cloaked in atmospheric blues and deep shadows.

The perspective adopted a side-scrolling subterranean view. A small, silent wanderer wearing a tattered grey cloak and a bone-white horned mask dropped into a cavernous, fungal-choked ruin. The creature drew a simple chipped nail, dashing through the air with fluid precision to parry the lunging strikes of armored beetles in a moody, sprawling labyrinth.

The gaming community had never witnessed anything quite like it:

>: "Wait, what game is this?!">: "The atmosphere is incredible! Look at that fluid swordplay!">: "A brand new original IP!">: "That parry timing looks tighter than a high-rank hunt!"

The three distinct teasers collided into a dazzling montage, concluding with the silver longsword of the Round Table Studio crest before the feed transitioned back to the sunny stage on Friton.

Standing around the gacha dispenser were two familiar faces. Galahad and Agravaine were playfully tapping the machine with oversized pneumatic wrenches and diagnostic tablets as if tuning an engine.

Arthur stepped back into the center of the platform with an easy smile. "How was that brief look at our upcoming games? As you can see, our traditional non-VR production remains in full swing. We have new franchises to explore and major sequels on the horizon."

Tristan walked up beside the colorful machine, resting a hand on its glass dome. "The community luck has traveled through and settled into the hopper, Arthur. Shall we try our fortune once more?"

Logan stepping past Bem with a confident smirk. "Allow me to handle the lever this time."

The viewer chat sent up a wall of hopeful pleas:

>: "Please let it be under 50,000 credits!">: "Agravaine, carry our wallets to safety!">: "Give us something an ordinary family can afford!"

Logan gripped the heavy metal crank and turned it clockwise.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

A bright silver capsule rolled down the spiral chute and dropped into the lower tray with a crisp metallic click. Logan scooped up the sphere, popped the seam open, and unfurled the printed slip inside.

His eyes widened in theatrical shock.

Logan turned the paper toward the hovering camera drone, letting the volumetric projection expand the numbers high above the stage:

12,999 Credits.

The viewing audience erupted into widespread celebration:

>: "TWELVE THOUSAND NINE HUNDRED?!">: "That's cheaper than a dependable second-hand atmospheric speeder!">: "WE CAN ACTUALLY AFFORD THIS!">: "Bless Agravaine and his blessed hands!"

While the comments flooded with relief and excitement over the drastic price drop, Arthur suddenly jumped into the center of the frame, waving both hands in frantic disapproval.

"No! No!" Arthur shouted, shaking his head with fierce determination. "That's still too high! We need to re-roll again, everyone!"

Galahad let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head as he looked directly into the primary camera drone. "Well, do you believe our viewers will spare their good luck a second time?"

The live chat detonated into pure delirium. Any lingering restraint vanished as viewers flooded the broadcast feed with every positive charm, good-luck chant, and digital blessing they could muster:

>: "TAKE IT ALL! TAKE EVERY DROP OF MY LUCK!">: "Channelling all the power of the central grid into this machine right now!">: "REROLL! GIVE US THE REROLL!"

Bedivere leaned over the cart, cupping a hand to her ear before flashing a dazzling smile at the lens. "The people have spoken! Roll that trailer!!"

Standing side by side beneath the morning sun, all five developers raised their hands in a synchronized wave.

"Enjoy," they said together.

The chat cascaded with instant excitement:

>: "WAIT, THERE IS MORE?!">: "ANOTHER TRAILER INCOMING!">: "SHOW US THE GOODS!"

The broadcast feed faded to black.

A heavy, rhythmic drumbeat echoed across the audio channels, followed by the familiar, chilling sound of twin hidden blades snapping into place.

The screen flared to life, revealing the rooftops of Renaissance Rome. Ezio Auditore stood atop the dome of a towering cathedral, his white assassin cowl fluttering in the wind. He raised a gloved hand and snapped his fingers. 

From the shadows of the surrounding colonnades, alleyways, and parapets, a dozen cloaked brotherhood recruits leaped forward in unison, weapons drawn, descending upon an advancing wall of Borgia guards.

The title materialized in sharp, silver lettering: Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood.

Inside his streaming cabin, FramePerfect launched himself out of his chair so fast his headset nearly ripped from the terminal.

"LETS GOOO!!" FramePerfect roared, slamming both hands onto his desk before clutching his hair in sheer disbelief. "BROTHERHOOD! RECRUITING YOUR OWN ASSASSINS! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!"

Before his viewers could finish laughing at his reaction, the screen plunged into a howling whiteout.

Freezing gales shrieked through towering mountain passes choked with jagged ice floes. The ground trembled beneath heavy, colossal steps. The camera swept across a frozen tundra, tracking a massive clawed footprint pressed deep into the packed snow. A deafening, primordial roar tore through the blizzard, vibrating with such ferocity that audio speakers across the galaxy rattled.

The frost cleared to reveal the expansion title: Monster Hunter: Iceborne.

On his own channel, Roric scrambled out of his chair. He sprinted across the room in his tailored three-piece suit, lunging straight toward his life-sized Rathalos armor display. He grabbed the armored gauntlet, shaking it toward his camera with wild eyes.

"New monsters to hunt, chat!" Roric shouted at the top of his lungs. "Look at the snow! Look at those tracks! That means an entirely new wardrobe of armor sets for me, and brand new outfits for Lil Chat!"

His chat room flooded with cat emotes and laughing faces, celebrating the promised gear for his in-game Palico companion.

The freezing blizzard suddenly dissolved into golden sunlight.

A deafening roar of applause and rhythmic clapping shook the speakers, carrying the immense, overwhelming energy of a championship final at a galactic grav-ball arena. The camera pulled back to reveal a towering, multi-tiered stadium packed to the rafters with hundreds of thousands of living spectators.

In the center of the ring, two trainers stepped forward. Giant holographic creatures materialized in full, hyper-realistic scale, exchanging crushing elemental strikes that lit up the virtual sky.

The view pulled out further, revealing the interface contours of a virtual reality perspective. It was Pokémon Arena, running with total, seamless fluidity inside the Caliburn VR framework.

The screen shifted, displaying rapid title cards that sent shockwaves through the community. Full Caliburn VR compatibility was officially confirmed for both Monster Hunter and Assassin's Creed.

Then came the final, staggering reveal.

The Caliburn VR seat would ship in a complete launch bundle. Every single unit would include full licenses for Assassin's Creed, Sky, Monster Hunter, and Pokémon Arena right out of the crate, sparing new adopters from having to purchase the games individually.

The viewing network fractured into absolute chaos:

>: "FOUR FULL TITLES INCLUDED?!">: "You can hunt monsters inside the seat?!">: "The stadium in VR looks like a real tournament!">: "Round Table Studio is genuinely insane!"

The broadcast cut back to the stage on Friton.

Tristan stepped forward, crossing his arms with a confident smile. "You saw correctly, knights. For the next month, every single Caliburn VR seat comes bundled with Assassin's Creed, Sky, Monster Hunter, and Pokémon Arena."

Arthur stepped up to the edge of the riser, leaning slightly toward the camera drones. "On top of that, when you enter Pokémon Arena through the Caliburn, you can challenge our official Elite Four members. You can test your strategies, dethrone them if you have the skill, or climb the ranks to become the Champion yourself."

Agravaine pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose, glancing over with an amused smirk. "And who exactly are these Elite Four, Art?"

Arthur offered a slow, teasing grin to the audience. "That's for all of you to discover in the arena."

He paused, letting the excitement build before shifting into the logistical details. "As of this very second, pre-orders are officially live on our Avalon storefront. Hardware distribution for the Core Rims will be handled directly through our partners at Stonebeard Heavy Industry, while all deliveries across the Mid Rim sectors will be managed by the transport fleets of the Apex Guild."

The viewer comments erupted with praise for the two galactic logistics titans:

>: "Stonebeard logistics? Those transports will arrive through an asteroid storm without a scratch.">: "Apex Guild has the fastest jump lanes in the sector!">: "PLEASE tell me this won't sell out before the broadcast ends!

Bedivere gently nudged Arthur's shoulder, pointing toward the colorful capsule dispenser. "Art, I think it has gathered all the luck we need."

Arthur looked across at his core team, his eyes bright with warmth. "Let's do it together this time."

All five developers gathered around the machine. Reaching out together, they placed their hands over the crank.

Across the communication networks, millions of players threw their hands in the air, playfully sending up prayers to the Olympian gods, pleading with Hermes for swift delivery, Athena for tactical wisdom, and for those deep in the lore, Tyche for pure fortune.

Together, the developers applied their weight and turned the handle.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

A gleaming golden capsule tumbled down the internal chute and dropped into the collection tray with a crisp metallic ring.

Arthur reached down, plucked the sphere from the cradle, and cracked the shell open. He unrolled the small slip of paper resting inside.

He stared at the printed figure for two silent seconds. A wide, genuine smile spread across his face, and he turned the paper directly toward the camera drone.

The volumetric projection flared to life above the stage, displaying the final, official price in brilliant emerald light:

699 Credits.

Arthur looked straight into the lens, his voice steady and warm. "And there it is."

The comment section collapsed into absolute pandemonium. Viewers across star systems were shouting at their screens, completely floored by the accessible figure.

Galahad laughed warmly, patting the top of the machine. "I'll call this a success, then."

Bedivere stepped in front of the group, waving both arms vigorously toward the sky. "Well, that is all from us today, knights!"

All five of them smiled together, their voices harmonizing across the broadcast relays:

"See you next time!"

The live stream dissolved into the silver and blue longsword emblem of Round Table Studio, bringing the presentation to a close.

Instantly, millions of users rushed toward the Avalon storefront. Comm channels choked with traffic as players scrambled to place their orders, organize watch parties, and debate the upcoming games with friends across the galaxy.

At the bottom corner of the closing card, a line of microscopic text lingered for anyone curious enough to enhance the frame:

Notice: The random dispenser presentation was conducted purely for entertainment value. The final retail price of the hardware was decided to 699 credits from the beginning.

Yet to the millions of fans celebrating across the stars, the playful secret hardly mattered. The presentation had been a joy to witness, the studio had delivered on every promise, and the Caliburn VR seat was finally ready to carry them into a new era of adventure.

…

CRASH!

"FUCK!"

The heavy crystal exploded against the far wall. The glass passed clean through the shimmering light of the holoscreen, striking the lacquered stone panel behind it with a violent crack. Deep crimson wine sprayed across the wall, dripping down in thick, ugly rivulets.

Zoye stood in the center of his luxury penthouse, his chest heaving as raw fury boiled behind his eyes. He jabbed his thumb repeatedly onto the glowing terminal strapped to his wrist, forcing a high-priority call through to Ravli's personal frequency.

The audio line buzzed with a dull carrier tone for two brief seconds before disconnecting with a flat rejection chime.

"Pick up, you pathetic worm," Zoye hissed through clenched teeth.

He dialed again.

Rejected.

He dialed a third time. The system immediately rerouted the call to a dead voicemail queue.

Ravli was actively declining his transmissions.

How had the entire operation fallen apart? What Ravli never understood was that the data puck was far deadlier than a simple manual exploit. Zoye had spent an exorbitant fortune acquiring the latest military-grade logic weapon through back-alley channels. 

The device carried a secondary remote detonation protocol tied directly to an encrypted sub-space pulse. Ravli never even needed the courage to slide the drive into a physical console port. As long as the artist walked anywhere near the facility's central computational core, Zoye held the capability to broadcast the kill command straight from Sela.

A remote detonation lacked the clean surgical precision of an internal breach, yet the resulting logic shockwave should've crippled the studio servers and turned the Caliburn unveiling into an unmitigated disaster on live air.

Zoye had pounded that trigger code throughout the entire presentation. He had transmitted the activation pulse a dozen times. Nothing happened. The broadcast had moved forward with effortless, mocking grace.

Only one conclusion remained. Ravli had turned on him. The cowardly bastard had either confessed to Arthur or thrown the puck into a drainage ditch.

"Ungrateful piece of filth," Zoye snarled, pacing across the ruined carpet. "Let's see how much your precious moral conscience helps when I strip your credit rating to zero. I'll blacklist your family from every civilized world in the system and lower your citizen rank. You'll spend the rest of your pathetic life begging in the dirt."

A crisp, high-priority alert chirped on his secondary communication terminal.

Zoye froze. He forced his ragged breathing to slow, smoothing down the lapels of his tailored robe while swallowing the bitter bile rising in his throat. He reached out and tapped the incoming channel.

A faceless, metallic insignia flickered into view on the small projection pedestal. The digitized voice of the Ministry of Technology liaison carried an icy finality.

"It seems you backed out of our arrangement, Director Raves."

Zoye fought to keep his vocal cords steady. He needed to salvage his standing at all costs. "The operational parameters were compromised by unforeseen variables. We require a cleaner window before we proceed."

The liaison offered zero room for debate. "Then our cooperation will not go through."

The connection snapped shut before Zoye could speak another word.

Zoye stood frozen in the cold glow of his empty penthouse. He bit down hard, his molars grinding together with such vicious pressure that he could feel the roots groaning in his jaw.

Inside his skull, a silent, venomous scream echoed over and over, drowning out every rational thought.

Arthur Pendragon.

…

On Friton, the courtyard outside the Round Table Studio headquarters echoed with pure triumph.

The launch broadcast had officially concluded, and the post-unveiling celebration was already roaring to life beneath the afternoon sun. Long buffet tables lined the perimeter, loaded with roasted skewers, fresh pastries, and chilled sparkling cider. 

Laughter and excited chatter bounced off the glass walls as the developers celebrated the overwhelming reception. The sheer relief in the air was tangible. They had spent months grinding under relentless deadlines, and now the entire galaxy was scrambling to secure an order.

Yet amidst the festive clinking of glasses and joyful shouts, Arthur Pendragon stood near the edge of the raised pavilion, his eyes unfocused.

His attention was locked onto something nobody else in the courtyard could perceive.

The very instant the Avalon storefront opened pre-orders and the first massive wave of transactions locked into the ledger, his Creator System had flared violently across his field of vision.

Translucent text hovered silently before his eyes:

[Host has established an independent domain.]

[Anchor sequence initiated.]

[System core update in progress...]

Arthur stared at the floating text.

The entire interface was completely unresponsive. The status overview, the personal profile tabs, and the gacha summon banners were entirely grayed out behind an impenetrable maintenance barrier. Worst of all, there's no progress bar.

Thankfully his profile is still working, but he can't change back to himself, for now. He tapped his fingers against his thigh, his mind racing through the implications. What did the system mean by establishing a domain?

The ancient, layered voice of Chaos drifted back into his memory with sudden, chilling clarity.

'Resonance was never just simple currency.'

Around him, Kasavin and Logan were clinking heavy mugs together, cheering loudly as the pre-order counter on the public monitors smashed through another milestone.

Arthur stared at the frozen, silent system prompt hovering in the air. He let out a slow, ragged breath, rubbing his forehead with two fingers.

"Fuck..." he muttered softly into the wind.

A/N: LET'S GOO!! This is the end of 3rd arc. We're finally here.

First thing first. Thank you, for all of you who gave me feedback, who messaged me directly, giving me both financial and emotional support. I know it's cheesy, but everyone had a bad day, but knowing I had people who were willing to spare their time and money to read my fiction gave me the drive to push it a bit more. It's not far to say you guys saved me. So from the bottom of my heart, I thank you all. 

Now about the 3rd arc, please tell me more about how you feel about this arc. Is there a storyline I might've missed? Is there any in-game lore and storyline you want to see but didn’t? Tell me all about it both in the comment or message me directly.

For me, this is the arc where we see Dorian progress. He was frantic and frankly cowardly, who had a tendency to get stuck in tunnel vision. In this arc, we see him become the leader, slowly rising to the place where he wanted to be.

The way I see it, Dorian sees both Arthur and Percival as what he wants to be in himself. Dorian had been choked by the sunless Nexus Prime his whole life. He had lost a piece of himself every day. Percival gave back his freedom, creativity, charisma, and charm. Arthur gave back his mindfulness, emotional intelligence, vision, and strategic thinking.

About the 4th arc, I want to ask you once again what ideas, songs, games, movies, or books you want to see being shared in this universe. Also, give me in-game lore you want to see for the teased future game like Pokémon Gen 4, Hollow Knight, FFXIV, or others.

Anyway, see you guys in the next arc :D