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Sunday steps into the parlor car to find a commotion going down on the couch.
The center of it is Stelle, buried in their phone screen, face obviously too close for their continued eye health. March is pressed to their side, her own phone half-abandoned in favor of staring intently at Stelle’s, both of them shouting nonsense. Dan Heng sits on their other side, his body angled away but his eyes also peering at the screen, a pained look on his face. Welt and Himeko are nowhere to be found.
The two of them are so engrossed in the phone that Sunday comes to stand on Dan Heng’s other side without any sort of acknowledgment. “What are they doing?” he asks.
“Trying to win an online game,” Dan Heng says, finally peeling his gaze away with what looks like relief.
“Together?”
“It’s team-based,” he explains. “They share the same pool of units.”
Sunday squints. “Against other people? How are the teams balanced?”
“They’re not!” March shouts, throwing her hands up in frustration. It’s a wonder her phone doesn’t go flying. “Why is Silver Wolf allowed to have so many characters?!”
“The Stellaron Hunter?” Sunday asks, incredulous.
“Yes. She plays a concerning number of games against them,” Dan Heng replies.
“It’s her army of infinite alts,” Stelle grits, still furiously button-mashing. “She’s making new ones and adding them to the team faster than I can destroy her plebs! March, you have to keep pulling,” they groan.
“I’m trying!” March says, tapping away at her own phone. “I have to go do a quest or I’m gonna run out of wishes soon!”
“Is it also a gacha game?” Sunday asks, entirely lost.
“Yes,” Dan Heng answers, a soul-weariness to it. “Don’t ask anything else.”
Sunday shoots him a confused look. “I’m just curious how this game remains competitive. Wouldn’t this create inherently unfair conditions for rival players? I imagine the number of complaints to customer service must be headache-inducing.”
“You can still win matches as an f2p,” Stelle hedges, despite the way their face gets more and more scrunched with the effort. Then they look up briefly, eyes wide. “Wait! March, referral code! Shit!” they curse as something happens on their screen, drawing their attention again.
Their enthusiasm transfers to March, who looks upon Sunday with eyes practically glowing with intent. “Right, you should download it! I’ll teach you the basics and you can help us,” she grins.
“I told you not to ask,” Dan Heng sighs.
“Ignore him, come’re,” March pouts, patting the seat beside her.
Sunday looks at Dan Heng, who shakes his head, then back at March, who beckons him closer. Well, how bad could it be?
—☆—
Not that bad, actually.
March walks him through the tutorial in between speedrunning her own quests. He understands why one might come back to a game like this; the mechanics are entertaining, the units well-designed, and once left to his own devices, he finds the tactics quite interesting. Dan Heng makes disappointed noises at the way Sunday’s been pulled in, but he comes to sit on his other side anyway, watching closely as he completes battles. Maybe he’d just rather watch than play. No harm in that.
“I’m running out of gems,” March whines. “Sunday, can you join teams yet?”
Sunday blinks as he looks up, as engrossed in his own battle as he was. It’s drawing to a close anyway. “Yes, I believe that was several levels ago. What’s your team name?”
“Why didn’t you tell us!” March yells. She leans over quick, just in time for him to claim victory. “Go to the multiplayer menu, yeah, and then we’re the Astral Express—”
“Is that a good idea?” Dan Heng interjects.
“—It’s fine, Dan Heng, people already know us— yeah! That’s us! Send the invite and I’ll let you in!”
Sunday sends the invite and is accepted immediately. The team screen looks like a miniature lounge, bombarding him with many new options at once. March guides him to the unit-sharing settings, which are off by default. Makes sense, considering most users will likely team up with strangers. Most interesting is the TV on the virtual wall, showing a live feed of Stelle’s battle with the Stellaron Hunter. Sunday taps it, allowing him to join.
Sunday surveys the battle. It really does boil down to a numbers game; Stelle has a few powerful units left, but they appear to be on their last legs. Instead it has become a fight between neverending waves of the lowest-level units, a painful battle of attrition.
“How long has this been going again?” Sunday wonders as he takes it all in.
“Too long,” both Dan Heng and March groan.
“I refuse to let her win.” Stelle hisses. “Never back down never what?”
“Never give up,” they both respond, as if possessed.
“...Of course,” Sunday says, because what else would he do? Then, “I might know how to win.”
“Seriously?!” Stelle shouts, excited, at the same time March says “Anything to make this end!”
Sunday nods. “Do you trust me?” he asks, and he means it in a lighthearted way, but the immediate, resounding yes settles heavy on him anyway, like a weighted blanket.
So he gets to work. Stelle continues to hold off the horde of low-level grunts while Sunday sets up, and from then on it becomes a game of psychological warfare. Something he’s good at.
It takes a while, but eventually they start to push Silver Wolf back, gaining ground inch by inch. Little angry stickers begin popping up from the Hunter’s side, which Sunday didn’t know you could do until Stelle began sending them back. He’d almost be impressed by Silver Wolf’s ability to multitask if she weren’t currently losing.
They are so close to victory. March and Dan Heng both lean over him in an attempt to see it happen. Sunday can’t help the smile on his face or the exhilaration racing through his veins. Just a few more moves and—
A new player joins the battle, as a third party no less. “How—” Sunday asks, startled out of his concentration.
“Is that… Aventurine?” March adds.
“Looks like Silver Wolf invited him? But as a third party,” Stelle explains.
Aventurine sets up his units. With each new one that gets added to the field, March and Stelle’s eyes widen. They seem… quite powerful.
Aventurine demonstrates this strength moments later by wiping out both teams immediately.
A little losing jingle plays, the screen displaying DEFEAT, all capitalized. All three of them deflate upon seeing it. Dan Heng snorts, covering his mouth to hold in a laugh.
A chat window pops up on the battle summary screen. Sunday gets a glimpse of the timer just before it does, and— how many hours has this battle been going for?!
>Silver Wolf: What the ****, you said you would help me!
>Aventurine: I said I would beat them ;)
>Galactic Baseballer: Can’t believe you would invite a WHALE into our game
>Silver Wolf: You’re the one who invited an actual tactician first and Kafka wouldn’t help so
>Aventurine: Not a whale! My account is completely f2p
>Say~Cheese~: Don’t lie, how did you get such powerful characters f2p???
>Aventurine: Luck ;)
>Silver Wolf: Luck >:/
>Aventurine: <3
>Say~Cheese~: That’s not fair!!!
>Aventurine: All’s fair in love and war, right Sunday?
Sunday is… not going to engage with that. Instead he closes the battle altogether, standing from the couch. Stelle and March nearly knock into each other in his absence.
“Hey, wha—?!” March splutters, letting out an ow! as Stelle scrambles to sit upright. “Where are you going?” they ask, speaking over her, “Smack talk is part of the after-battle ritual!”
“To get… water,” he decides on the spot, walking to the kitchen quite calmly if you ask him. He hears Dan Heng tell the others to let him be and is grateful for it.
Still, as he closes the kitchen door behind him, he can’t help but smile. Sure, they lost resoundingly and suddenly, but he wouldn’t mind doing this again. Even with the same results.