Chapter 4: The Pantheon, Nicholas POV (Patreon)

Chapter 4

The Pantheon

Nicholas POV

As the office faded, I found myself in one of the oddest settings I’d ever encountered. It looked like the captain’s stateroom from a Victorian-era naval vessel that had somehow been merged with a cathedral and king’s throne room.

A long, elaborate red carpet, woven from the fleece of Transcendent beasts, ran down the centre of a room carved from black Transcendent wood. The carpet led to a set of double doors covered in cravings of pirates fighting over treasure. The images spread from the door, covering the walls and columns with painful detail. Many of the carvings weren’t violent, choosing instead to glorify the pirate life in a beautiful, almost respectable way. The regal nature of the carpet and the design of the columns and carvings made me think of The Temple of Zeus at Olympia. It was a very old memory from a happier time in life.

Without words, the decor informed me I was seated in hallowed ground and a place of power. An hour ago, there hadn’t been a single place like this on the entire planet, so I wasn’t certain where I was.

I glanced to my right at the short, refined, elderly gentleman. He had his hands behind his back and stood with a relaxed posture. His outfit reminded me of an old English Aristocrat, being ostentatious enough to require several layers of lace, an overcoat made from mustard-coloured satin, and enough gold and jewels to fund a decadent lifestyle.

The single glance was enough to tell me that he was dangerous, wielding power that was capable of wiping out planets, power that was equal to my own in every way. While he represented a dangerous level of power, nothing about him seemed threatening.

So, I asked the obvious question, “Who are you? And am I imposing on you by being here?”

He removed his flamboyant mustard tricorn with platinum trim and gave me a deep flourished bow. “You may call me Pan, my Leigh. I’m the custodian of your realm. The caretaker of The Pantheon. And you are not imposing on my presence or my time in the slightest. I’m sure you are wondering what’s going on.”

The thought had crossed my mind. “Do you care to enlighten me then?”

Pan stood up, returning his tricorn to his head. “This is your realm’s throne room, my Liege. You’re here because this is where all new members of your pantheon are born. I’m here to explain to you why that is so.”

“Are you a class guide?”

He shook his head. “Not officially, but I know enough to assist you.”

Finally, someone I could work with. I’d had to grow used to a lot of changes since I started the Game, and class guides were basically mana from heaven, as far as I was concerned. They were very good at making all of this complexity make sense.

“What exactly is a realm?”

“A realm is the temple where a Transcendent being like yourself proclaims the nature of their existence to the universe. Once they have done so, they begin to live out their nature and gather followers who fall under their sway.”

I scratched my chin, not liking what I was hearing. “Having a realm would imply that I have announced my nature to the universe.”

Pan took a deep breath. “It would be more accurate to say that the moderators did this for you, my Liege. So long as you choose to remain a part of this realm and its pantheon, you are Nicholas Thistlebush, God of Pirates.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. “If I left, could I proclaim myself the God of humanity?”

“You could, but humanity has a small population, so as the God of humans, your ability to grow will be limited.”

“And that would be-”

“Bad, my Liege. While this realm may have some problems, it holds many major benefits, like myself.”

“You’re a benefit?”

“A big one. As you are no doubt aware, I am Transcendent. You are likely unaware that I cannot die, not so long as this realm remains.”

“What do you mean?”

“I am The Pantheon. The Pantheon is your realm. Your realm exists so long as you do. You, The Pantheon, and I must all be destroyed for me to no longer exist. This grants you a great deal of power.”

“I don’t care about power. I just want to get my people out of this sector safely.”

“I can help you do that.”

Pan waved his hand, and a hologram of someone’s interpretation of a Victorian-era naval ship appeared in the air before us. The ship had the traditional raised area at the back of the vessel where the helm sat, along with sails and rigging. The intricately carved doors at the end of my throne room came out onto a balcony overlooking the main deck, which sat just below the helm. The forward-raised deck of the ship was slightly lower than the balcony, which seemed redundant because of the sails in the way. The sides of the ship were covered in artist carvings that, while beautiful, would have made it impossible for the vessel to be seaworthy.

“This is The Pantheon, my Liege. Despite the archaic nature of her appearance, she will outfight any faction currently in the Game, and she is more than capable of safely getting your people out of this sector.”

What I was seeing made no sense to me. “I’ve been given a spaceship that looks like an old naval vessel?”

“Yes.”

“And I’m supposed to fight other spaceships with it?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Have you ever heard the saying; Gods don’t play by mortal’s rules? If a God wants to make a Victorian-era naval vessel fight spaceships, then a God can do so.”

I decided to ignore the disturbing nature of his reply. “Fine. How is this ship supposed to help me get humanity out of Sector 3?”

“You won’t have noticed because of the scale of everything, but you’re currently over a hundred meters tall. The Pantheon is close to fifteen kilometres long and five kilometres wide, which makes the lower deck large enough to house all the players in Sector 3. All we need to do is load everyone on and then pick a heading.”

That was great news. “Do we have weapons?”

“That flintlock pistol on your hip fires a laser that is stronger than a battleship’s main cannon.”

I glanced down as he mentioned a pistol and then sighed again.

Someone had changed my clothes.

In place of my tuxedo jacket was a long green coat with silver embroidery around the edges. The coat ended just above the knees, right before my trousers cut off and stockings took over. Someone had dressed me in the 16th-century equivalent of a tuxedo because over my shirt, which now had lacy cuffs, was the elaborately embroidered vest I’d once seen in a museum.

I realised several seconds of silence had passed while I looked at my clothing and turned back to Pan. “Why make The Pantheon look like a 16th-century naval vessel?”

“You’re a Pirate God, my Liege. And this era was the most famous pirate era from Earth’s culture.”

I blinked, wondering if I had heard him correctly. “You’re aware of the nature of this world?” Referencing the rules of this world and referencing the existence of worlds beyond it were two different things.

He nodded. “Yes, my Liege. I’m aware that this galaxy is being used to host a Game and that I’m part of the mechanisms which make this possible, though I prefer to stay in character if it’s all the same to you.”

“In character?”

Pan paused and removed his tricorn. “I think perhaps I should go hats off for this conversation.”

“I’m still not following.”

“It’s a larping term for role-playing, which means that what I say next is out of character and entirely unrelated to what we’re doing here in the Game. Put another way that you’re more likely to understand, I wish to speak candidly with you.” He took a deep breath. “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players. When you accepted the tribunal’s offer, the moderator placed a job posting, offering any AI who was interested the chance to play the role of your custodian. I applied and was accepted. Now, I’m here.”

His answer was more straightforward than I expected. “You were offered a job to work for me?”

He shook his head. “I was offered a job to work with you. It’s a rather important difference. As the custodian of your realm and a member of your pantheon, I will follow your orders. However, I have the power and freedom to act upon my own initiative if I find something interesting or believe you are overlooking something.”

“So, you’re not an AI that was made for me?”

Pan chuckled. “No. Those sorts of AI are rare and reserved for very special circumstances, where trust and communication are absolutely necessary. My role here is important enough to warrant a sapient self-aware intelligence, but not so important that it needs to be custom made.”

“So, this is a job to you.”

“Yes. One I am qualified to fulfil.”

“And you think my best course of action would be to accept you and The Pantheon to get everyone out of Sector 3.”

“Yes. The Pantheon has the storage capacity and the firepower to evacuate Sector 3 and reach a safer sector. And until you start gathering followers, you will not be beholden to your pirate nature. However, you must keep the crew happy and in line.”

“What do you mean beholden to my pirate nature and what crew?”

“As a God of Pirates, you must behave like a pirate. Otherwise, you lose followers. Your realm must also reflect your pirate nature, and a pirate captain needs a crew, so The Pantheon has a crew. They’re bionoids.”

There was so much new information for me to learn that it almost felt like I was starting over. “What are bionoids?”

“They’re considered the first step on the path to transcendence but are merely an amalgamation of flesh and technology. They look human. Act like they’re human. And think like they’re human. But they’ll try to kill you if you call them human, so don’t call them human. Expect them to generate a great deal of internal conflict as many of them resent and envy our existence. Mutiny will be common until you can improve everyone’s loyalty.”

“Are you saying I can lose the ship?”

“As a God of Pirates, it will be hard not to.”

“Because pirates mutiny.”

“Yes.”

“Did the moderator make me a Pirate God because of my recent actions?”

“I would assume so. In-game rewards are generally related to the player’s actions, and while it is a bit of a stretch to go from stealing the wealth of a sector to a Pirate God, it is possible.”

I sighed.

“You seem unhappy.”

“I was told I would like this option, but I disapprove of stealing. I can only imagine the distress I’ve caused everyone over what I’ve done.”

The truth of my word reminded me I hadn’t set things right, but that could be easily fixed. I opened my Domain and was engulfed by the awareness of everything on the planet. I watched everyone for a moment, instinctively smiting a few in the process. Then I plucked up my courage and did the right thing, projecting my voice to every man, woman, and child through my Domain.

“My name is Nicholas Thistlebush, and I am the one who stole from you. I did so not to gain your wealth but to try to help everyone get out of Sector 3 with their levels and class intact. While this is now within my capabilities, I would still like to apologise for stealing from you. I am sorry that I stole from you, and I promise to do everything I can to see you and your family safely out of Sector 3.”

I blew out a shaky breath and closed my Domain as people began shouting questions.

Pan smiled. “That was a lovely speech, but I believe you have made an incorrect assumption. Being a God of Pirates does not require you to steal from humanity. You can just as easily steal from humanity's enemies.”

Pan words brought me peace.

The idea of being a space pirate who stole from humanity's enemies appealed to me. There were several factions that I would have no moral objective against stealing from or visiting wholesale destruction upon.

I started to chuckle.

“Do I take that laughter to mean you’re staying?”

“For now,” I said with a grin.

You have chosen to remain the God of Pirates.

You can still gather pirate followers.

You can still use your power to assist your pirate followers.

Pan placed his tricorn back on his head. “Glad to hear it, my Liege. Now, follow me, and I’ll explain how the crew works?” Without waiting for me to reply, he turned and headed for the double doors, waving his hand and using his power to open them.

I climbed off my throne and followed him, stepping out onto a lavish balcony with two sweeping staircases on either side, which led down to the main deck below. Four cannons sat on the port and starboard sides of the main deck. There were harsh-looking men in well-worn clothing checking over them.

Pan cleared his throat. “The Pantheon is a vessel without a means to generate energy for its systems. You and I produce a lot of energy through our Power attribute, which The Pantheon siphons, but this isn’t enough to make FTL possible. Until you and I become more powerful, this vessel cannot function without a crew of bionoids.”

“Why?”

He took off his tricorn and sighed. “Let me speak candidly to save some time.”

“It would be easier if you did so constantly.”

“But it wouldn’t be as fun.”

I repressed a sigh.

“As I said before, The Pantheon is fifteen kilometres long and over five wide. She boasts weapons and armour that are unrivalled among the player factions and is large enough to extract every player from this sector and move them to another. However, giving you such a powerful ship without limitations would have disturbed the Game's balance, so she has been limited by requiring a crew of bionoids to help power her.”

“Giving me more power seems like a strange way to limit someone.”

“You’re a Transcendent being. The moderators don’t have many options for limiting or rewarding you. But with this design, The Pantheon gives you access to substantially more firepower than you currently have, making it possible for you to provide your people with a method of escape. At the same time, it also provides you with more difficulties as you have to deal with a belligerent crew to do so. You’ve been given a short-term advantage and a short-term inconvenience.”

“How many crewmen do we need?”

“That depends on how big you want to grow The Pantheon.”

“It can get bigger?”

“Yes. The Pantheon and I are both a Transcendent being and a realm, so we have a symbiotic relationship with you and your future pantheon. Each time you reach a milestone, we do as well, but we cannot spend transcendent points like you do. Instead, we are strengthened when you spend your points on yourself. When you grow your Might, The Pantheon will be able to grow larger.”

“I imagine we will need more crewmen to do that.”

“Yes, if you aren’t willing to invest in your Power.”

“How many crewmen do we currently need?”

“To power The Pantheon, we need 183 crewmen. The number has been reduced because of your Domain buff.”

“If I increase that buff by another sub-grade, would it reduce the crew further?”

“Yes, but only if The Pantheon remains its current size.”

“How do we get rid of crewmen?”

Pan leaned against the railing and turned to look out over the desert. The ship had taken over the location where the ruined mothership had been. Nothing was left of the ruins, just a giant crater where the ship now sat.

“To remove crewmen, we need to visit a transit station. They act as ports for us. Once there, we can unload unneeded crewmen or find more if necessary. We can also hire stronger crewmen if we want to, but strengthening the ones we have is preferable.”

“Why would we want to strengthen the crew?”

“Each crewman has a different level of loyalty, and if you manage to get one to be 100% loyal, you will want to make them stronger. Having a strong, loyal crewman is preferable to having a bunch of disloyal bastards.”

I could see the logic in that. “How do I make a crewman stronger?”

“The crew are F-1 bionoids, so if you find an F-2 spaceship, they can absorb its technology to grow stronger. Unique quest vessels that people receive from quests will provide the best results.”

“That sounds expensive.”

Pan chuckled. “Foreign fleets and space stations tend to explode around pirates. It might have something to do with the fact that we receive doubloons and equipment when they do. However, not everything explodes, so crippled ships will frequently find themselves trapped in our hold.”

“Good to know. What are our armaments like? I hope we have more than these eight cannons. It looked like there was space for three times as many.”

“There is. Currently, we have twenty-four cannons, so a dozen along the port and starboard sides, four are up here, with four on each of the lower two decks. These cannons put a dreadnought’s cannon to shame, but their range isn’t great. They really want us to behave like an old pirate ship, so we will have to close in absurdly close. That won’t be an issue because The Pantheon boasts a shield that will take an entire sector’s fleet to bring down, and even with our current deficiencies, she’s still the fastest ship in space.”

“Anything else I should know about the ship?”

“Nothing that will help in the short term.”

“What’s your position?”

“I’m the quartermaster and second in command. If the crew has a problem, they bring it to me, and I bring it to you. If someone starts a fight, I stop it.”

“What’s my job?”

“You’re the captain and my Leigh. You pick our targets, and your word is law during battle. Outside of battle, you leave the day-to-day running of the ship to me and put down mutinies.”

I looked over the deck one more time. Crewmen were relaxing and chatting or glaring at one another.

“Are we ready to go save everyone?”

Pan shook his head. “No. I believe we need to head towards the invading fleet. We’re out of doubloons, and if the crew don’t get more soon, we will be dealing with mutiny.”

“How soon will they mutiny?”

“There will be a mutiny by the end of the day.”

That was a problem. “How certain are you?”

“Completely certain.”

I sighed. “I need to get the players out of Sector 3.”

“It might take longer this way, but your plan won’t succeed if we don’t keep the ship. Dealing with the invading fleet will also stop the Horde's ability to harass humanity, buying you more time.”

That was true. “How long will it take us to reach the invading fleet?”

“A few hours.”

“You really think we will have to deal with a mutiny so soon?”

Pan nodded. “Without any doubloons to their name, none of them are loyal. It will be just the two of us against all of them, and I don’t like those odds.”

“Fine, we’ll do it your way.”