The new reality didn't have a name yet. Some called it "Hybrid Seattle." Others called it "The Modded Server." But mostly, people just called it "Weird."
In the three weeks since the Merge, the city had settled into a comfortable, high-definition chaos. The Space Needle was still a Wizard Tower, but it now had a 5G antenna bolted to the spire. The public buses were drawn by six-legged horses, but they still ran late. And the pigeons... well, the pigeons now had tiny wizard hats, but they still crapped on the statues.
Inside the Meow & Bow, the morning rush was a symphony of conflicting genres.
"Order for the Goblin King!" Jen shouted, sliding a cup across the mahogany counter. "Double espresso, extra hot, no foam. And please stop trying to pay with goblin gold; we only accept credit cards or mana crystals."
The Goblin King, wearing a sharp Armani suit, grumbled and tapped his phone against the reader. "The exchange rate is robbery," he muttered, grabbing his coffee and exiting through a portal made of swirling leaves.
Behind the counter, Elara Vance leaned against the espresso machine. She was wearing her tactical pizza-vest, but she had accessorized it with a silk scarf.
"Efficiency is down by 4%," said Elara-Zero.
The other Elara stood next to her. She wore the pristine Weaver's Robes, but she had rolled up the sleeves to reveal tattoo sleeves of binary code. She was currently calibrating the grinder with a golden wrench.
"That's because you're measuring efficiency in 'Latte Per Minute'," Elara argued. "I measure it in 'Vibes Per Second'. And the vibes are immaculate."
"Vibes do not pay the rent," Elara-Zero countered, though she smiled. "However, the customer satisfaction rating is holding steady at 4.8 stars. The 'glitchy' aesthetic is apparently trending."
They worked in tandem. Elara handled the chaos—the customers who wanted to barter riddles for muffins, or the Glitch-Cats that needed to be petted back into solid matter. Elara-Zero handled the structure—the inventory, the taxes, and the magical wards that kept the health inspector from noticing the dragon in the kitchen.
Speaking of the dragon...
"Order up!" Ignis roared from the kitchen window.
The former Golden Dragon leaned out. He was in his Human form—tall, blonde, and handsome—but he still wore the orange tracksuit, now embellished with gold sequins. Huge, translucent dragon wings sprouted from his back, knocking over a stack of cups every time he turned around.
"I have created a masterpiece!" Ignis declared, holding up a plate. "The 'Hoard Platter.' It is a kebab, but inside a croissant, topped with edible gold leaf."
"It's an abomination," Jen noted, grabbing the plate. "Table 5 ordered it."
In the window seat, Aldren Vance was undergoing his own crisis.
The Vampire Lord wore a velvet smoking jacket over a band t-shirt. He was holding a quill pen in one hand and a smartphone in the other.
"I cannot decide," Aldren whispered, staring at his notebook. "My Canon side wants to write a sonnet about the moonlight reflecting on a lover's tear. But my Patchwork side wants to tweet a thread about how the moon is actually a government surveillance drone."
"Do both," Li Wusheng suggested from the next table.
The Monk sat in a lotus position, floating two feet off the ground. He wore his silk robes, but he had a high-end gaming headset over his ears. A drone camera hovered in front of him.
"What is up, chat?" Li said to the camera. "Today we are speedrunning Enlightenment. If I can clear my mind of all thought in under ten minutes, we unlock the 'Nirvana' achievement. Don't forget to like and subscribe."
Vex the Succubus floated next to him, holding a clipboard. She wore a business suit with a pencil skirt and bat wings.
"Li, your engagement metrics are dropping," Vex warned, tapping the clipboard with a claw. "You need more drama. Maybe a scandal? I could 'accidentally' seduce you on stream?"
"You will do no such thing," Li said calmly. "I am a monk. I am monetizing my serenity."
"Serenity doesn't get clicks, sweetie," Vex grinned. "You need a thumbnail where you look shocked. Open your mouth wider."
"I hate the new media landscape," Li sighed.
The bell above the door chimed.
It wasn't a normal chime. It was a heavy, resonant GONG sound that vibrated the fillings of everyone in the room.
The chatter in the cafe died instantly. The Goblin King stopped at the door. The Glitch-Cats hissed and vanished into the ceiling.
Elara and Elara-Zero looked up simultaneously.
"That wasn't a customer," Elara said, her hand reaching for her Lightsaber Baguette.
"That was a System Notification," Elara-Zero said, her eyes narrowing as HUD data scrolled across her irises.
The door opened.
Standing there was a figure that didn't belong in the Hybrid Reality.
He wasn't High Fantasy. He wasn't Cyberpunk. He wasn't even Glitch.
He was... Untextured.
He was a smooth, grey mannequin, like the Moderators, but he wore a generic blue uniform. He carried a brown cardboard box. There was no face, only a nametag that read [COURIER_SERVICE].
"Delivery," the Courier's voice droned. It sounded like a text-to-speech program set to 'Bored'.
"We didn't order anything," Jen said, stepping out from behind the counter with her barcode scanner raised. "We are fully stocked on beans and angst."
"Delivery for..." The Courier looked at the box. "...Entity: Story."
"Story?" Aldren stood up. "Who is Story?"
"The narrative," Elara realized. "Us."
The Courier walked forward. He didn't walk; he slid, his feet not moving, gliding across the floor like a bad animation. He placed the box on the counter.
"Sign here," the Courier said, holding out a grey tablet.
"I'm not signing that," Elara said.
"Refusal to sign constitutes acceptance of delivery," the Courier stated.
POOF.
The Courier vanished. No smoke. No particle effect. He just deleted himself from the scene.
The box sat on the counter. It was heavy. It smelled of old paper and legal fees.
"It's a loot box!" Ignis cheered, flying out of the kitchen. "Maybe it has skins! Or rare emotes!"
"It's not a loot box," Elara-Zero said, her voice tight. She scanned it with her golden eyes. "It has no rarity level. It has no stats. It is... outside the system."
"Open it," Elara said. " carefully."
Jen poked the box with her scanner. Nothing happened. She cut the tape with a box cutter.
The flaps sprang open.
Inside, there was a single object.
An envelope.
It wasn't paper. It was made of something that looked like skin—but not human skin. It looked like the binding of a very, very old book. The wax seal on the back was red, stamped with a symbol that made Elara's eyes hurt just looking at it.
It was a Pen crossed with a Gavel.
"I know that seal," Aldren whispered, backing away. "I have seen it in the nightmares of the First Draft."
Elara reached into the box. Her hand trembled slightly. She picked up the envelope.
"To the Occupants of Sector 4," Elara read the calligraphy on the front.
"Open it," Li said, floating closer, his stream chat forgotten.
Elara broke the seal.
She pulled out a letter. It was printed on stark white paper, in a font that was impossible to ignore: Times New Roman.
She began to read aloud.
"Dear Unauthorized Derivatives,"
"It has come to our attention that you have accessed, modified, and redistributed intellectual property belonging to The Pantheon without written consent."
"You have created an unsanctioned fork of the Reality Engine. You have merged incompatible genres. You have allowed NPCs to gain sentience. You have violated the Terms of Service of Existence."
Elara paused. The room was deadly silent. Even the espresso machine had stopped hissing.
"This letter serves as a formal Cease and Desist Order."
"You have 48 hours to revert all changes, delete all corrupted assets (including yourselves), and restore the Gold Master timeline."
"Failure to comply will result in Litigation."
"Sincerely,"
"The Publisher."
Elara lowered the letter.
"The Publisher?" Rex Chord asked, strumming a nervous chord on his guitar. "Is that like... the Author's boss?"
"Worse," Elara-Zero whispered. She leaned against the counter, looking pale. "The Author creates. The Critic judges. But The Publisher... The Publisher owns."
"They own the IP," Aldren realized. "They own us. Legally."
"They want us to delete ourselves?" Ignis asked, smoke curling from his nostrils. "I just started a business! I have overhead costs!"
"Litigation," Jen shuddered. "That sounds worse than a Raid Boss. That sounds like... paperwork."
Elara looked at the letter. Then she looked at her team.
She saw Aldren, the Vampire Prince/Blogger. She saw Li, the Streamer Sage. She saw Ignis, the Dragon Chef. She saw Elara-Zero, her co-pilot in chaos.
This was their world. It was messy. It was illegal. It was a breach of contract.
And it was home.
Elara crumpled the letter in her hand.
"They want a legal battle?" Elara said, a slow, dangerous grin spreading across her face.
She turned to the espresso machine. She turned the steam knob to maximum.
"Jen. Get the Canon-Jen apple crates." "Aldren. Start drafting a manifesto." "Li. Call Mr. Henderson."
"What are we going to do?" Elara-Zero asked. "We cannot fight The Publisher. They have lawyers that can rewrite the laws of physics."
"We're not going to fight them in court," Elara said. She ignited her Lightsaber Baguette. It hummed with the sound of a rebel yell.
"We're going to pirate the universe."