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I can see the speech is losing them. Some of them are shifting, turning away, getting bored. They’re wondering when I’ll get to the point, and I get it. I wonder about that too.

“We even did things you didn’t expect. United a Dungeon World before you realized it was possible. Made it our own and took our seat here. And then…” I gesture upward. “You try to take it away. Because we got too uppity, because we threatened your local cliques.”

A pause. A dramatic pause. Then, laughter, harsh and filled with bitter humor. It catches their wandering attention, brings their focus back to that small figure on the stage. The one taunting them, lecturing them.

“At least that was what you were told. Fed little lies, as if you were children, and satisfied with those little lies, thinking you were adults, you ran around with the sharp scissors of vindication and tore into us. Thinking that what you learnt is the truth.”

The Secretariat shifts, hair and tendrils twitching. But it makes no move to stop me. And so long as he doesn’t, no one else can, even if there are guards pounding at the shield surrounding the stage, trying to get in. Covert and not-so-covert attempts at breaching the shield are blocked with lazy ease. Some of the too obvious ones even die for their presumption.

“But it was easy to feed you those lies. Because all of you, coming light years across the galaxy to fight for scraps of power, for a chance to get ahead of everyone else, are too blind to see. You, who are meant to serve those who voted you in or those who you rule could not find the monster from the forest when you were too busy looking out for your own desires.

“And all the while, out there, people cry and die, struggling for some form of normalcy. Entire solar systems, billions of lives lost because you are all looking out for number one. Forget peace or social responsibility or justice.

“You people disgust me.”

I watch as the Counselors try to shout me down and fail. They’re all muted, but the looks I’m given tell me that my grandstanding is less than loved. I don’t care.

“Justice shouldn’t just be for those who can pay for it. For those who can spend the time and expertise to get it. You shouldn’t have to be willing to sacrifice everything to find it. It certainly shouldn’t be coming at the hands of an unhinged lunatic without any safeguards behind it.”

A slight dig there at myself. At Classes and Levels and the entire concept of might is right. Because sadly, that seems to be the only way the System works. At least, not without deep sacrifice.

“Justice is meant to be for everyone, at any place. And if the universe doesn’t work that way, well, what’s new? It’s never worked that way. But that’s your job in this chamber. To fix the wrongs an uncaring System creates, to offer a vestige of fairness that the slavering jaws of monsters do not.

“That’s what you chose to do. To make the galaxy a little fairer, a little brighter. A little more just. And you all failed. Because you’re so damn desperate for power.”

Voice, lower. The next words are said almost at a whisper. “But that’s all right. If you want power, if you want to know the truth, I’ll give it to you.”

More people are moving, some trying to approach the platform only to be rebuffed by the Secretariat’s shield. Others are leaving, as if they sense the danger of what is to come. More send out messages while others have never stopped recording what I’m saying, alerting their people, the guards.

“But first, let’s get this over with.”

I will my answer to the System and watch as the sphere hanging above the chamber darkens. As my vote for Earth floods in. Liquid System Mana pours into the globe, pushing the vote over the edge. There are gasps, shouts. More than a few of my allies look shocked as I finish what my enemies started.

I betray Katherine and Rob and Earth before the Council itself, taking away Earth’s seat.

In the shocked silence, I find myself grinning savagely. I watch as the galactic ensemble scrambles, as they work out the implications of what I’ve done. A small notification appears in the corner of my eyes, informing me that we no longer have the room, the embassies within seven days.

My allies are shocked. Some are barking orders to others, all of them closing ranks as they wonder what is happening.

“You think this matters? It doesn’t. You think Earth is that easy to take? Then try it. But you won’t find me there. You all seem to think it matters to me, so I figured I’d show you. Remind you.

“There are further secrets to be found. More power to acquire. Truths more important than some stupid, useless planet of uplifted apes.”

Above my all-too-cocky body, the timer shifts and reduces while the sphere pulses. Some others throw in their votes now, fulfilling vows and promises. Many others hold off, confusion warring with avarice.

And still, my voice drones on. “Real power. Not this sham.” A hand waves over the surrounding seats, taking them all in. “Because you’ve been lied to all your life. For millennia, you’ve been spoon-fed a lie, as if your broken, warped seats matter.

“But this is the truth.”

I push my Status Screen outward. Fighting the Title, making it turn off. There’s a block, a System Administrator-level block against what I’m trying to do. I pitch myself against it, feel the security responses from the administrative block flood into my body, tearing at it. I burn, body twisting and nerves flooding with Mana. My knees give way, my nose bleeds, my eyes squeeze shut. Pain racks my body as the Administrators’ security systems attempt to stop what I’m doing.

I pitch myself against their defenses and find myself failing. Failing—until something deeper, something hard-coded into the very bonds of the System itself takes action. It comes like a tsunami wave of System Mana that takes no prisoners, that cares not for the swimmers on the beach. My health drops precipitously again as it “helps.”

My body glows blue, green, white as directed System Mana floods into me from outside, healing my body. My friends aid my efforts, keeping me alive as the System and I battle the Administrators, changing the code.

Finally, the barrier, the permissions that were blocking me from showing this to the vast public give way.

John Lee, Redeemer of the Dead, Monster’s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead, Duelist, Explorer, Apprentice Questor, Galactic Silver Bounty Hunter,…, (Junior System Administrator Level l6)

HP: 4138/6300

MP: 8674/6350

My voice, speaking to them all. I’m being carried away, hands gripping me, pulling me aside as regeneration kicks in, patching me together even as the overabundance of System Mana slowly flows away, slowly breaks down.

“A lie. Because you are but pawns in a world you’ve never seen and yet still insist is real. If you want answers, ask your Inner Council. Ask them why they’ve hidden this secret from you. Ask them about the shadows behind the throne, the ones who manipulate everything you believe in, that change the very fabric of the System. Ask them why the System is theirs to manipulate—and not yours.”

Voices rise, shouting, screaming, asking questions and demanding answers. The voices are as diverse as the audience, and fights have begun. So much so that even the shield around the stage is failing as the massed volume of the Council take action.

“Ask them how many lies they’ve really told and how many Classes they’ve rendered useless. What they’ve hidden from you by hiding away this Class.” A pause. “And what it means that the System itself fights them.”

A small timer in the corner of my eyes ticks over.

Time’s up.

Explosions of Mana. Skills and spells thrown at one another, at the stage. An assault and retaliation, and the council chambers devolve into pure chaos. Some, the more opportunistic, lash out at rivals. The Secretariat disappears, leaving the Council to deal with itself.