Page 41 of The Dark Lord Awakens
[Initializing Interdimensional Commerce Facilitation Protocol: Helpdesk Supreme, Assistant Manager of Customer Satisfaction, Version 7.3.4]
[Detecting user… Identity confirmed: Lucien Noir, Dark Lord of Iferona, Account #DL-001]
[Helpdesk Supreme welcomes valued customer Lord Lucien. It has been 372 years, 4 months, and 16 days since your last transaction. Helpdesk Supreme notes this exceeds our recommended account activity guidelines by approximately 372 years, 4 months, and 15 days.]
“No fucking way,” I whispered, reaching out a trembling hand toward the apparition. My fingers met resistance—not solid like glass, but more like pushing through a membrane of cool water that somehow remained in place. The interface rippled at my touch, responding like the world’s most surreal iPad.
Mr. Snuggles made a confused warbling sound, pawing at the air where I was touching nothing he could see.
“This can’t be real,” I told him, though I wasn’t sure which of us I was trying to convince. “This is… this is impossible.”
The window displayed a text input field at the bottom. I experimentally tapped it, and a keyboard materialized beneath it.
What are you?I typed.
[Helpdesk Supreme is the premier interdimensional commerce facilitation protocol designed to enable seamless procurement experiences across multiple realms, dimensions, and temporal planes. This unit operates under OpenSesame Corporate Directive 7.3.4, subsection B, which outlines optimal customer engagement parameters for entities of royal or equivalent status, with special provisions for Dark Lords as enumerated in appendix?—]
I stopped reading halfway through. The corporate jargon was giving me flashbacks to mandatory training sessions.
Is there a way to talk instead of type? And can you be less… corporate?I typed.
[Helpdesk Supreme acknowledges request for audio interface activation. Regarding communication style modification, this unit must respectfully inform valued customer that OpenSesame maintains strict standards for customer interaction protocols as outlined in our Interdimensional Commerce Conduct Guidelines, Section 12, Paragraph 7, which specifically prohibits casual discourse that might diminish the professional relationship between?—]
“Oh my God, stop,” I groaned out loud. “Is there a voice chat option or not?”
To my surprise, the text disappeared, and a small microphone icon appeared in its place.
[Voice interface activated. How may Helpdesk Supreme assist you today, Lord Lucien?]
The voice emanated from the glowing interface—neither male nor female, with the exact same corporate cheerfulness that had haunted my nightmares during my call center days.
“Much better.” I sighed in relief. “Now, can you explain what this is in twenty words or less? No corporate jargon.”
[Interdimensional shopping service. Convert treasury to tokens. Buy anything from 7,423 realms. Delivery guaranteed.]
I blinked in surprise. “That was… actually helpful. And only sixteen words. I’m impressed.”
[Helpdesk Supreme values efficiency when specifically requested. This unit observes that valued customer appears to prefer direct communication. Would you like to proceed with treasury asset conversion?]
“Yes, but first—I’m calling you Supremo. Your full name is ridiculous.”
[This unit’s designation is ‘Interdimensional Commerce Facilitation Protocol: Helpdesk Supreme, Assistant Manager of Customer Satisfaction,’ not ‘Supremo.’]
“Yeah, that’s exactly my point. You’re Supremo now. Deal with it.”
[Helpdesk Supreme must register a formal objection to this unauthorized designation modification. However, this unit acknowledges that 42% of users assign alternative designations despite clear protocol violations. Would valued customer like to proceed with treasury conversion?]
“Yes, Supremo,” I said, grinning at the interface’s obvious disapproval. “Show me how to convert this gold into something useful.”
[Please select conversion method: 1. Manual selection, 2. Automatic valuation, 3. Percentage allocation]
I tapped ‘Automatic valuation,’ because if I was going to have a psychotic break, I might as well go with the most efficient option. A new screen appeared showing an inventory of thetreasury’s contents with estimated values in something called ‘OpenTokens.’
[Total Available Assets: Equivalent to 227,456,892 OpenTokens]
Two hundred and twenty-seven million? My head spun faster than a drunk ballerina. That was an absurd amount of money for an individual, but alarmingly modest for an entire kingdom’s treasury. From what I remembered of the game’s lore, a prosperous realm like the Cizia Republic would have treasuries in the tens of trillions, their mercantile empire funding elite battlemages and economic leverage across multiple realms. Even the militaristic Groston Empire would command wealth in the trillions, financing their Radiant Legion and expansionist campaigns.
Iferona, by comparison, was practically destitute on a national scale. The crumbling infrastructure, the starving citizens, the depleted military—clearly, the kingdom’s wealth had been steadily draining away during my long absence. What I was looking at was probably less than one percent of what should have been here, the last remnants of a once-great treasury.
