Charlemagne found himself floating in the void, surrounded by the overwhelming presence of the being that called itself the “God of the System”.

  “How nicely you have been growing lately, little bird. It amused me to see that you were able to defeat the Boss of the Individual Battle Simulation I set up to reward those ambitious enough to use injury and death as a whetstone for their Skills. And the way that you attacked the first event’s Overseer with no hesitation…what savagery. For a while, I wondered if your lust for battle had been tarnished by the easy life. Surrounding oneself with servants, mates, and offspring has quenched the fire of many a conqueror. But that is not your nature, no, you were born for struggle. Born to soar to heights that most can’t even imagine, let alone dream about. And yet, you still require guidance. Assistance. Without my intervention in your Skill Fusion, there was a real chance that you could have died. But we can’t have that, can we? The mighty Charlemagne, destroyed not in battle but in a moment of triumph? What a poor story that would make. It would not increase our viewership, not at all.”

  The rooster’s eyes narrowed.

  “Naw, I would have been fine,” he rebutted. “That was maybe an eight out of ten on the scale of things I’ve survived. My Mana Core’s evolution to Ember Core and eating that metal were both worse. You just wanted to bring me here to make me another offer, didn’t you?”

  The System God chuckled. As it did, waves of power resonated through the void, rattling the rooster’s very bones.

  “My my, you are growing perceptive, aren’t you? I suppose that eating so many creatures smarter than yourself is starting to pay off. Yes, you probably would have pulled through without my aid. But still, there was a chance that things could have gone wrong with the process. A lot goes on behind the scenes to make these changes to your body, you know. And, there’s a little special wrinkle that you aren’t aware of that is going to make this particular Skill Fusion more potent than it would be otherwise. But trust me, you’re going to need it for the Elite Systemic Games. The competitors there are all already over level 100, with powerful Classes, Achievements that have been carefully mapped out, bodies and souls forged by finely-calibrated adversity, and Skills honed by years of training. The greatest among the elites are already nearing level 150, which means that they are almost thrice your level. You’ve been the big fish in a small pond for some time now. How will you handle opponents that are more than just brutes, like you?”

  “I’ll handle them the same way I’ve taken care of every other problem. I’ll eat them and grow stronger,” the rooster promised.

  “I am sure that you will,” the immensely powerful being agreed. “But I am also sure that you will struggle to do so, at least at first. Once you catch up, you’ll be finished with stage one of your evolution. Stage two is going to be fun, for me. And I hope it will be fun for you too. I think you would have more fun if you agreed to ditch your Patron, Grimfalk, and go with me directly instead. I could more suitably reward you once you inevitably triumph in the Elite Systemic Games.”

  “I have no need of extra rewards…I will earn everything with my own beak and claws,” Charlemagne declared. “But perhaps a deal could be made. Do you have a way to keep my mates and offspring safe while they travel with me? Or a way to guarantee the safety of my farm?”

  The question seemed to surprise the God of the System.

  “Hmmm, that is a difficult request indeed. It is possible that some arrangement could be made, once you grow strong enough to support a demiplane of your own. But that will take time. As for guaranteeing the safety of your farm, there is nothing I can promise…even I am bound by my own rules.”

  Charlemagne couldn’t help but note that the powerful entity seemed strangely limited. The one thing it seemed to promise was already something that the rooster could earn or create through his own efforts.

  “What about this, then?” he asked. “How about we agree to a split here…you accept one-third of the Divinity that I generate, one-third continues to go to Grimfalk, and I get to keep one-third of it for myself. In return, you teach me what I can do with the Divinity I’m generating.”

  This time, the imperceptible being’s laugh nearly shook the poor rooster apart.

  “What hubris! What spunk! Never before have I heard such a proposition. Oh, this is a fun day indeed. How I wish that this were possible, just to see what would happen!”

  “So, it’s not something that you can do? Why?” Charlemagne inquired.

  “You cannot be a Patron of yourself. That is an immutable aspect of the System. Besides, even if you could, the amount of Divinity that you have been generating through your exploits would destroy you long before you could ever learn to harness it, even if you only received a fraction. I’m afraid your request is impossible.”

  “Then I will stay with my current Patron,” the rooster declared. “He has rewarded me with mates and a safe place to raise my offspring. I would very much like to return to them soon, but I fear that I still need more power in order to protect them in the long run. There are going to be more Challenges that threaten the Earth, I just know it. That giant space rock was only the beginning.”

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  “Then gather as much power as you can while you can, little bird,” the God of the System answered with just a trace of grumpiness in its voice. “Your world is fragile, it is true, and you will need every drop of power you can acquire in order to protect it. The multiverse is a cold and uncaring place, your entire universe is but a morsel in the grand scheme of things.”

  Charlemagne pondered that for a moment, wondering if there were beings truly that much stronger than his Patron, Grimfalk. But something wasn’t sitting right with the rooster.

  “There is one thing that I still don’t understand. Why are you bothering to run the Systemic Games? What are you getting out of it?”

  “Ah, now that is quite the insightful question. I told you once that my main motivation is more power. And I also seek entertainment, as you are no doubt aware. When you have no peers, a vast intellect, and plans that take thousands or millions of years to mature, you tend to get bored. The Systemic Games are a form of entertainment for me, but they are also another method for me to garner power and influence, which is just another form of power. For you see, there are many powerful civilizations across the multiverse who have not yet embraced the System. The Games serve as a form of advertisement to showcase the benefits that come from implementing it, drawing in the masses and putting pressure on the ruling classes to acquiesce. Of course, the average universe has a much greater mana density than yours does, so the immediate impacts tend to be less…impactful on average. And there are other benefits that I gain from holding the attention of quadrillions of beings at a time, which I am not willing to disclose to those who are not my Champions.”

  “Most of these ‘universes’ already have lots of mana?” Charlemagne asked, wondering what that would mean to someone like him. His ability to harness mana was unmatched, and even beings that had hundreds of years of experience could not hold a candle to his innate understanding of the magical substance. The God of the System must have sensed what the rooster was thinking, because it chuckled again.

  “Yes, your universe is one of the most mana-poor I have ever seen. You are an extreme outlier in your ability to harness mana, so you don’t understand how most beings from your world struggle to even touch the fundamental energy that binds the multiverse together. Your very presence diminishes the ambient mana around you on Earth, strengthening you and weakening the mana-based abilities of your opponents.

  But you are still young. Still green. Your rapid growth may exceed normal by a factor of 10, but that doesn’t put you in the same category as beings who were born in an environment flush with mana and have spent a hundred years developing their strength. There are realms where the average foot soldier is stronger than some of your deities. There are places where entire galaxies are ruled by nigh-immortal beings that have eliminated their pantheons and harnessed the very fabric of spacetime to serve as a substitute for mana. I hate these the most, except for the rare instance where I can convince a sufficiently powerful faction to unilaterally implement the System. Even then, it generally takes me hundreds of years to undo the damage that these so-called ‘high-tech’ societies have done to their universe.”

  “There are places where everyone is as strong as a deity? How can that be?” Charlemagne asked.

  “I would rather put it that your universe’s deities are exceptionally weak. The dearth of mana has stunted your planet’s development. It was likely that, if the System had never been implemented, your universe would have become one where technology conquered the very stars and individual power would have mattered little, eventually starving them of Divinity and allowing mortals to rule. Now that your deities have embraced the System, that future is forever barred to them. They will gradually grow more powerful, yes, but they must do so quickly. Eventually, if your realm survives its first trials and tribulations, the veil protecting it from the rest of the multiverse will begin to weaken, allowing some of the lesser powers to invade. However, given how resource-poor your universe is, it may take some time before you attract attention from the outside.”

  “How long?” the rooster demanded.

  “Who can say? Free will is a troublesome thing to stamp out. All I can tell you is that you currently do not have the strength to defend your world. Your strongest deities combined should be able to fight off the weaker opportunists, but nothing beyond that.”

  “Why are you telling me all this?” Charlemagne finally asked. “I’ve already turned down your offer of Patronage several times. I’m already competing in the Elite Systemic Games, which you practically forced upon me. Why do you care if I know the secrets of this ‘multiverse’?”

  “Because it amuses me to do so,” came the ready response. “Now you know the stakes that you are playing for here. If you do not return to Earth eventually with the power to defend it, it matters little whether or not your farm survives in the meantime. Because whatever force invades your universe isn’t after slaves, or souls, or raw materials. No, if your deities fall and your planet is taken, all life will be completely wiped out so that the Earth can be colonized by others.”

  Charlemagne thought about what the self-proclaimed God of the System had shared. It seemed that this was yet another pitch for the rooster to give up his Patron and choose to follow the mysterious yet undeniably powerful being. But the strange loyalty that had led him to refuse the entity’s previous offers deterred him from seriously considering the latest one. Perhaps it was foolish, but the rooster believed that he could seize enough power to protect the Earth with his own two wings, Patron or no Patron.

  “Well, this conversation is starting to lose its novelty,” the God of the System announced, cutting Charlemagne’s thoughts short. “Although I confess I’m probably just overeager to see how you will fare in the Elite Systemic Games. Should you win, the rewards will be greater than you can possibly imagine. And no, I won’t give you any hints about them or answer any more questions. Strive, grow, and rage against all limits, little bird. For some day, I’ll convince you to work for me.”

  The rooster felt a sudden wave of disorientation wash over him as what he had been experiencing as “down” suddenly shifted. He blinked in confusion and found that he was back in his handler’s office, lying on the still-mangled wooden floor. The strange being that inhabited the chamber was saying something to him again, but between his dizziness and the latest message from the Squiggles, he didn’t catch a word of it.