Chapter 25
The Countdown: 24 Hours to PVZ Official Launch
The timer went live at midnight.
23:59:59
And the world collectively forgot how to breathe.
Global Condition: Tense
Phones refreshed in every time zone.
Forums trembled.
Livestream thumbnails multiplied.
Helia plushies were clutched like emotional support relics.
Solar bobbleheads glowed in car dashboards across the city.
Somewhere, a student stared at the ticking numbers and whispered:
"Why does it feel worse than finals?"
Because this wasn't just anticipation.
It was engineered.
The Anxiety Ring
Back at the manor—
Jake, Kara, and Barbara stared at the giant projected countdown in the loft.
23:12:04
Kara exhaled slowly.
"…This is evil."
Barbara adjusted her glasses.
"Yes."
Jake folded his arms.
"Strategic."
They all looked at the number ticking down.
Somewhere in another sector of the emotional spectrum, if a power ring existed for pure, concentrated anticipatory anxiety—
It would have chosen them instantly.
Three rings.
Three exhausted founders.
All vibrating at 200% nervous system capacity.
The World Holding Its Breath
Clips from the beta resurfaced nonstop.
"Remember the Latin zucchini unlock?"
"Did you see the Midnight Mode?"
Merch photos filled feeds.
People hugged plushies like charms against FOMO.
Wednesday posted one sentence:
Waiting is a discipline.
Bakugo posted:
JUST RELEASE IT ALREADY.
Tony livestreamed himself analyzing the solar bobblehead's circuitry.
Clark smiled politely during an interview and declined to confirm or deny "agricultural synergy."
Principal Darkholm issued a school-wide memo about "responsible gaming behavior."
No one listened.
Inside the Manor
Jake paced.
"I thought I'd feel triumphant."
Barbara didn't look up from server diagnostics.
"You feel responsible."
"Yes."
Kara leaned against the desk, watching the countdown.
"You made the world itch."
Jake sighed.
"I know."
She tilted her head.
"…And you like it."
He hesitated.
"…Maybe a little."
Barbara glanced at him.
"You created controlled anticipation."
Kara smirked.
"You monster."
Jake put a hand to his chest.
"Visionary."
They both rolled their eyes.
But neither disagreed.
The Merch as Talismans
A live montage played silently on the loft screen:
A kid sleeping with a Helia plush tucked under their chin.
A college student lining up three solar bobbleheads in a dorm window.
Wednesday placing her Midnight Gothic Sunflower on a black marble desk.
Yang using hers as a lucky charm before a sparring match.
Peter staring at his download screen like it might personally judge him.
The world wasn't just waiting.
It was invested.
Emotionally.
Financially.
Collectively.
Jake swallowed.
"…That's a lot of trust."
Barbara nodded softly.
"Yes."
Kara stepped closer to him.
"Good thing you earned it."
The Spike
At hour 20—
Search traffic doubled.
At hour 18—
Pre-load servers strained.
At hour 15—
A rumor spread that there was a hidden pre-launch event.
There wasn't.
Barbara checked the metrics.
"…We're trending worldwide."
Jake stared at the graph.
"…Oh."
Kara smirked faintly.
"You broke the internet without even launching."
The Private Advantage
Jake looked at the timer again.
14:02:11
He groaned.
"This is unbearable."
Barbara calmly minimized the projection.
Kara unplugged the external display.
The timer disappeared.
Silence.
Jake blinked.
"…What did you do?"
Barbara spoke evenly.
"We don't have to suffer the wait."
Kara smiled softly.
"Perks of being the creators."
He stared at them.
"…You two are terrifying."
Barbara tilted her head.
"Efficient."
Kara nudged him lightly.
"You made the monster."
Jake laughed quietly.
"Fair."
The Moment
Without the timer glowing over them—
The loft felt calmer.
Helia swayed gently outside.
The leyline hummed steady beneath the soil.
Jake leaned back in his chair.
"Are we ready?"
Barbara answered without hesitation.
"Yes."
Kara nodded.
"We built it right."
He looked between them.
"You really think so?"
Barbara met his eyes.
"We wouldn't let it fail."
Kara added, softer this time:
"And we wouldn't let you fail."
He blinked.
Emotion caught somewhere between pride and disbelief.
"You two are unfairly competent."
Barbara gave a faint smile.
"You noticed."
Kara crossed her arms.
"You threatened to kiss us. Of course you noticed."
He choked slightly.
"That was celebratory!"
"Sure," Kara said.
Barbara's eyes glinted faintly.
"Careful. Anticipation works both ways."
Jake froze.
"…That sounded like a threat."
"Strategic," Kara replied.
Final Hours
Somewhere across the city—
People refreshed.
Counted down.
Held plushies.
Adjusted bobbleheads.
Whispered:
"Almost."
Back at the farm—
The creators didn't need to watch the clock.
They could feel it.
The leyline pulsed stronger with every passing hour.
Like the world's anticipation was feeding into it.
Helia glowed brighter.
Mew floated in slow circles.
Jake stepped outside.
Looked at the horizon.
The air felt charged.
Like lightning before a storm.
Except this storm was digital.
Collective.
Massive.
He exhaled.
"Okay."
Behind him—
Barbara's voice, calm and certain.
"Twenty-four hours."
Kara's voice, confident and warm.
"Let them wait."
And for the first time—
Jake didn't feel like the anxious one.
He felt like the eye of it.
The calm in the center.
The monster they accused him of being.
Smiling.