The Transmigrator's Worries

I toss about restlessly on the mattress trying to get some sleep. With all the lights turned off in the hideout and The Voice completely silent, my only companion is the utter darkness. Which makes for a pretty lousy companion, all things considered. I cannot not sleep because there is plenty on my mind, and I am not going to start talking to myself in the dark. There lies the way to madness. What is bothering me also could not be discussed with The Voice. Its something personal, and The Voice and I are far from friends. Our relationship is not close enough for me to open up like that.

The only option left to me was to basically stew in my own thoughts. And I've been thinking really hard on the future. My future, if I manage to survive this whole adventure. Where I am supposed to go from here.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not being eaten up by some sense of guilt over what I have done so far in this dimension. I am not about to keel over wailing hysterically and getting all tortured emotionally over the fact that I killed a few people. I shudder while reflecting what a pathetic outcome that would be. There's nothing worse than someone who did something and refuses to take ownership of it. As The Voice had explained several times before, anyone is free to do whatever they want, as long as they can bear the consequences for it.

And its true. Not just in this dimension, but in my world as well. Think about it. Murder, the biggest taboo, plenty of people have gotten away with it. And when I mean 'gotten away with it', I mean that everyone knows that these people have killed, yet they live openly and freely in society, leading fulfilling and productive lives.

Don't believe me? Take the greatest generation for instance. I don't see what's so great about them, though everyone treats them like they're the best thing since sliced bread. I am willing to bet a sizable number of those old relics had shed blood. Yet those guys are honored and treated like VIPs. Before anyone objects to this comparison, on the ground that those old duffers killed for a good cause, lets look at another case.

Communism. Everyone back home says it came from the devil, with all the death camps, labor camps, reeducation camps and what have you. Kill counts in the millions, as some people would say. What about the killers then? The last I checked, plenty of them lived perfectly happy and prosperous lives, dying peacefully in their sleep.

What separated these two examples from all the other murderers in history who were brought low? Its simple, these guys were Winners, with a capital W.

I will say it again. Winners. I no longer wanted to just survive. I wanted to become a winner. No, I needed to become a winner. And that's the reason why I had my freak out a few nights back involving those club kids. This quest The Voice had sent me on was my best chance at securing a future for myself, and I am not going to let that opportunity slip out of my hands. That and the creeping fear of my actions finally catching up to me before I secure any guarantees regarding my safety from The Voice.

Murder. Terrorism. Those are not small things to bear. If The Voice had been able to confirm that I could safely leave this place once our quest is done, I would have cared less about those charges. But until now, The Voice is no closer to separating me from Gallant's soul. The only possibilities still open are a rare synchronicity event occurring or Hobo Beard's research holding the answer. But possibilities don't mean anything by themselves. The synchronicity event may never happen in my lifetime. Hobo Beard might not know anything useful.

I don't dare gamble on my world's Administrator being an understanding sort. If termination is on the cards for bringing Gallant's soul fragment back home with me, I may very well have to consider staying in this dimension for good. That was the reason why being a Winner, rather than just a survivor became so important. I may need the power and influence to ensure my safety from any would be avengers.

At least The Voice offered to back my ascension as a king, if I stayed on after the whole thing was over. Such a position would be able to provide a suitable amount of protection and a comfortable living to boot. The only problem with that offer is time.

While The Voice had not gone into any details, I had a fairly good guess as to how it intended to deliver on its promise. Since there was no empty land lying about for me to plant my proverbial flag, the only kingdom, or rather princedom, up for grabs would be the von Amsterg territory. I had no doubt that The Voice could arrange for me to take control over the Hero's realm, but I had to wait for the dust to settle from the civil war between the Heroines before that happened. I would also have to wait until The Voice broke Fate's metaphorical legs in their pissing match.

And while I am doing all this waiting, the knives in the dark would be readied for me. Fate's not the kind to be shy about assassinating nuisances or using its influence to ruin them. I would know, having plenty of first hand experience of how Fate operates. How long did I need to survive in this world before The Voice allows me to cash out with my big payday? Years? Decades?

Knowing The Voice, it would conscript me into this extended conflict, holding my reward as a carrot to ensure my obedience. I would have no way of resisting such a request, since my future would hinge on clearing the Heroines and their brats out from my promised kingdom. I remember the promise The Voice had made, that I would be made king after Fate was defeated. Not after our quest was over. Those were two completely different things. The Voice had agreed not to give me a monkey's paw reward, but it was already rules lawyering itself into a better position. That's also not mentioning The Voice's refusal to guarantee that I could receive a reward if I chose to leave. It had been deliberately using uncertainty to bait me into going for the kingdom.

It was a good thing that I did not agree to anything then. The Voice was already thinking of ways to extend my contract of service so to speak. I need to be wary with what I discuss with it, not to show any weakness that it can take advantage of.

Then there was Gallant. As long as I stayed here in this dimension, I would always be subject to him contesting control over this body. While I am the dominant soul now, I cannot be assured that this situation will last forever. During the confrontation with Siobahn, Gallant had proven that if he really wants something that's against my wishes, I could not override him. At best the two of us would be locked in a fruitless conflict, while the body is paralyzed during the unending duel between us. As long as I stay in this world, I may one day be free of Fate, but I would never be free of Gallant.

What a bloody headache all this is. I get up from the mattress and grope about blindly for the bottle of water.

"A little to your left." The Voice rasps. Following the instruction, I hand closes in on the bottle and I take a few gulps from it.

"You're still awake." I note.

The Voice answers, "The City does not sleep, and neither do I. Matters proceed apace no matter what time it is."

"What matters?" I ask while lying back down on the mattress.

"The relationship between the Hero and Inspector Scott for one." The Voice rumbles, "I hope we do not regret this in the future."

"When you say relationship, do you mean..." I trail off meaningfully.

"I mean sexual intercourse. Yes." The Voice confirms, "They are engaging in it presently."

I grunt in acknowledgement at this piece of information. The Hero must be executing his programming to impregnate a woman. The time has almost come then. The contest for the von Amsterg territory is quickly approaching and we need the Heroines ready to give birth to prevent a clear heir from emerging.

"Why isn't the Hero getting frisky with the Heroines?" I ask, "He is clearly attempting to move to the next stage of the operation, knowingly or not."

"There is no rush." The Voice replies, "There will be time enough for that once the Hero succeeds in the contest."

"Unless something happens to the Hero in between." I point out, "Wouldn't it be safer to have the Heroines impregnated before the actual fight against Nicky? Fate is not going to magically disappear once Nicky is beaten."

"A good point." The Voice says after pondering for a moment, "I will send a transmission to the Heroines, increasing their libido accordingly. Now that the Hero is sexually active, he should be open to propositions from the Heroines, barring Fate's interference."

I nod in satisfaction. We need to lock the Hero into the harem route before he decides on a monogamous relationship with Big Tits.

"I'm going after Hobo Beard next." I announce to The Voice.

"Understood." The Voice confirms, "I will compile all the information I have on him. We shall begin our preparations tomorrow."

And with that, my eyes close, and I fall into a fitful sleep.