"Cosmic Junk Company, Cosmic Junk Company, grand-opening sale! If you can imagine it, we can sell it!"
"Every single piece of junk on opening day costs no more than 5,000 credit points—no way to lose, no way to regret!"
Normally he would never waste a second on trashy ads this cheap.
But when Lygus saw the flyer, he fell silent—for a long time. A chill crawled from his core straight to his processor.
This was big.
Very big.
Lygus's mechanical CPU was icing over.
Could anyone explain how this garbage ad had slipped through his firewall and into the Staff?
Though Erudition had anchored the future… he sensed this had nothing to do with Erudition.
It was a variable.
His gaze swept across the Talia Star System—not some famed trade hub or tech nexus, just barrens and… abandoned worlds.
"Every piece of junk, max 5,000 credit points… junk?" he murmured. "Junk that can breach my firewall? I'd love a look."
A freshly updated headline caught his eye.
Moments ago, an enormous surge of unstable Imaginary Energy had erupted on Abandoned Planet No. 1145 in the Talia system.
The spectral signature matched an Imaginary Outburst—crude, erratic.
Part of the planet's surface had been permanently reshaped.
The coordinates of the blast overlapped the address in the Cosmic Junk Company ad.
Coincidence?
Lygus didn't believe in coincidence.
Data flooded in, was filtered, analysed.
Most was garbage—exaggerated ads, fake intel. Then a handful of buried posts surfaced.
Anonymous notes from fringe routes, almost drowned in the noise.
"Saw a weird ship near Trash-Heap, looked freshly salvaged but crazy fast, weird jump sig."
"Heard some junk planet in Talia wiped out a whole bug swarm—quietly."
Oh?
Each scrap was harmless; together they pointed.
Was an Emanator—or worse—about to be born?
More likely: some being wielding raw imaginary force, unaware of what it stirred.
But breaching his firewall… could it threaten Erudition itself?
Junk—by definition, useless.
Rupert the First had risen from a dump; the emperor checkmated by Erudition had also been… junk.
And the neurons Lygus now used were Erudition's cast-offs.
He couldn't wait. If the ad had reached the Staff, his location was exposed—or the enemy had tech he couldn't fathom.
Lygus reread the line: "If you can imagine it, we can sell it."
Arrogant… yet tempting.
What if they truly could sell anything—even a way to defeat Erudition?
Perhaps he should place an order.
After all, Zandar had nine spare bodies.
But after he replied, Lygus fell silent again.
"To unsubscribe, reply TD."
TD… an answer he hadn't expected.
If this was random spam, their tech was absurd. A frontal breach would have been respectable.
This was overkill.
A mass-mailed ad had cracked his encrypted firewall.
genesis set
Demon Pass
Those two "pieces of junk" on the site snared his gaze.
Sold.
Hard to tell if hoax or real.
Worse: the genesis set was listed as… a children's toy?
Supreme camouflage—or did the seller see "creation" as child's play?
Demon Pass, flagged "use with care," could make anyone agree to your request—efficacy against Aeons untested. Who bought it, and what wish did they make?
"I have a computer I can't control. Do you stock anything suitable?"
Lygus smirked at himself.
"Hello, please wait while agent Xiao-Qi finds the perfect item for you."
March 7th turned to Caelus.
"Captain, new customer—says his rig might be infected."
"Virus? Send him that antivirus flash drive I dug up the other day."
"Dear customer, may I recommend our bestseller Super-Antivirus Flash Drive! Plug-and-play, wipes every stubborn bug, leaves your PC sparkling! Only 999 credit points, free shipping!"
She copied Captain's canned spiel with practiced ease.
Days later, a plain black USB stick arrived at the neutral station he'd specified.
Cheap plastic shell, no brand, weightless—like a street-stall trinket.
A single program—classic antivirus—yet brutally effective: every virus Lygus had coded was erased.
So he shipped the thing to himself.
[god 365 antivirus software – scanning…]
The progress bar crawled forward.
1%…15%…42%…
Beep-beep-beep-beep—Lygus killed it.
Any longer and it might stick chopsticks in his head.
[smallBird Wallpaper installed successfully.]
Lygus:?
What in the cosmos was smallBird wallpaper?
[Super-Fun RedMoon installed successfully.]
[0721 Browser installed successfully.]
"?"
Where had these come from?
A heap of useless bloat had slipped into his throwaway OS.
You bundle-install too?
Then again…
Better not touch god 365; it seemed purpose-built to murder machines.
But the bundleware… hm? Bundleware?
An idea sparked.