Chapter Text
The same problems. Kept repeating. All of the time. The inner workings of the Simulated Universe were becoming increasingly obnoxious, complicated, idiotic, inconvenient, and a whole slew of other synonyms for annoying. It felt to Ratio like mere hours after he fixed one bug, he’d get called back into work with complaints about four more. There weren’t even supposed to be that many things to work with in the first place! The Universe’s extensions were few, and curated to be low maintenance. How was he so seemingly incompetent in dealing with them?! It didn’t matter how often Screwllum reassured him that the extensions were a constant work in progress, and needn’t be permanently fixed for a long while– Ratio was nothing if not a perfectionist.
Most of the time, they were easy fixes; an hour or so hunched over a computer in the Space Station’s Control Zone was a fix for simple viruses. Requesting funding for a new part or program from Asta could remedy technical issues. Sometimes even giving the Index a good kick booted the thing back up in minutes. But the most recent glitch in the system was much more suspicious than others he’d dealt with. This issue was more persistent, and worse still, it didn’t feel like the result of faulty tech. It felt more… malicious? As if an unseen force completely unrelated to computers was toying with him, forcing him to go out of his way every time it got the chance. He’d been in a silent back-and-forth battle with this glitch for weeks now, and it was starting to feel like the universe was laughing at his arduous toil. He was going to figure out the source of this problem. Today.
Ratio marched through the Control Zone with purpose, eternally thankful for his ability to dodge the researchers before they had a chance to ask him pointless questions. He nodded at the guards standing outside of Herta’s office.
“Is she here?” He asked, knowing the answer.
“No, sir. You’re free to work as long as you need.”
“Thank you.” The metallic grinding and faint whoosh of the heavy doors shutting behind Ratio was not a comforting sound. Herta’s office was, naturally, not the most homely of rooms on the Station. She was never there, and so did not care to decorate– besides the portraits situated uniformly off to one side. Perhaps it was a childish notion, but the room creeped him out sometimes. And a glance in the direction of the Herta-doll standing idly in a corner, neither alive nor asleep, did not do much to lessen this uneasy feeling. He resisted the urge to wake it up, just to have some semblance of company, but that would essentially mean talking to Herta. And he already had enough to be annoyed about at the moment. Ratio quickly climbed the five stairs up to the Threshold and activated it. The odd feeling of the system meshing with his consciousness was one that he would never get used to. This was what testers were for, for Nous’ sake. As he emerged into the Universe, he immediately assessed his surroundings. Nothing out of the ordinary… no hostiles– Screwllum must have them turned off when the system’s not in use by the testers. This just looks like the Base Zone. Come on, think, Veritas. Some Genius you are. Can’t even fix this one thing.
After entering two more domains to no avail, Ratio was ready to give up for the day. He stepped back from closely studying an Occurrence that didn’t look at all unusual, intending to leave. He placed his fingertips to his chin in contemplative vexation. What was he missing? He was seconds from deactivating the system when a faint, muffled noise rang out from behind him– a noise that should have echoed off the (albeit computer-generated) metal walls of the room. It sounded like laughter. For a moment, Ratio forgot to be unnerved, moreso infuriated by the idea that his weeks-long theory of the universe laughing at him was coming true. Then the idea that that was obviously not what this was popped into his head, and he squared his shoulders and clenched his fists as a chill ran down his spine. Swearing under his breath, he concentrated on gathering his Imaginary energy as best as he could. He slowly turned on his heel.
There were now two Occurrences in this room. One was of the purple checkerboard design he’d previously been studying. The other had a red-orange frame and displayed an image of a masked figure, bowing fluidly towards the outside of the frame as if taunting whoever might view its visage. The pair of Occurences were facing each other, with perhaps three meters of empty space between them. It was reminiscent of the mirror-portals Memokeepers sometimes used for transportation. Ratio slowly lifted a hand to his head in distress, burying it into his hair and slightly knocking askew his golden laurel hairpieces. Anxiety rising in his chest, he slowly approached the frame– because what else was one to do in this situation?
Ratio knew for a fact that he had not done anything that might inadvertently forge a connection to Aha. He didn’t like to be sacrilegious, but They were perhaps one of the least… appealing Aeons to him. Not to mention Their followers. Don’t even get me started, he thought with a shudder. As much as Ratio did not want to admit it, it was becoming much more apparent what kind of being the culprit behind these glitches was. Masked Fools had far too much sway against countless areas of the cosmos, and, looking back, perhaps the answer to this mystery should have been obvious. But how could Masked Fools infiltrate the supposed security fortress that was the Space Station? Ratio stepped up to the out of place picture frame where it hovered above the floor, its top half a meter over his head. Up close, the gesturing figure looked even eerier– the smile in the mask it wore was too wide, more taunting than genuine. It all looked almost three-dimensional, as if it could reach outside of its rectangular prison and interact with the ‘real’ world. Small red particles emanated from the frame on all sides, and Ratio felt a bit dizzy from the proximity. He felt the urge to touch it, but that wasn’t going to happen– what was he, an idiot? He took one step backwards, glaring sharply at it while wondering where he should even begin in order to fix this problem.
“Oh, hello!” Said a voice from behind him. Behind and above him. Ratio nearly jumped out of his skin, this time even more terrified to turn around. But, slowly, he did.
A man was floating above the purple Occurrence, a forearm propped against the frame and a wrist curled underneath his chin. He wore a magenta mask that covered the top half of his face, and a hat of the same color rested precariously on his head. Under the hat, Ratio could tell that the Fool had dusty blond hair, and he committed this to memory immediately for when he had to report the break-in to security later on. The hat had three Attini peacock feathers attached to it, and they swayed back and forth as the Fool tilted his head to one side in a somewhat uncanny way. Ratio’s jaw dropped, his brain working overtime to figure out if this was real or an illusion– one somehow different from the rest of his surroundings. As if to confirm the uncertainty, the Fool mimicked Ratio’s shocked face in an overly exaggerated way. He opened his mouth wide and hovered his hand in front of it in fake fear and surprise. Ratio couldn’t see his eyes, but he was certain they were wide and wild. Before Ratio could speak, the Fool dropped his hand and snickered rudely. Evocative of a snake slithering, he slid back and disappeared behind the Occurrence. His shoes clicked against the floor as he landed, and, glancing down, Ratio noted the heels of them looked like the “eyes” of peacock feathers. Ratio was frozen in place. He had no desire to back up into the Masked Fool painting, but the other option was to possibly get into a conflict with the real thing. Neither sounded particularly desirable.
As if entertaining a child, the Fool poked his head out playfully from behind the frame, the rest of his body following suit. He was shorter than he’d appeared while floating in the air– thankfully, Ratio thought, as if he was somehow, in any situation, a worthy adversary against a Masked Fool– but what this one lacked in height, he made up for in imposition. His clothes were very grand and expensive-looking, as expected from someone of that faction. Ratio and the other geniuses were certainly well-off when it came to money, but the Fools always seemed to revel in an extravagance that made anyone seem humble in comparison. This one wore a formal jacket sporting complicated designs. Dark pieces of fabric in the shapes of playing card suits lined the middle, perfectly imbedded to accessorize one’s torso. Where coattails would be on any regular person’s clothing, there was a train made of feathers instead. The Fool slowly looked Ratio up and down, who wasn’t at all comfortable with this. Still attempting to focus his Imaginary energy, Ratio did not dare to move. The two stared each other down, or at least, Ratio assumed the stare was being reciprocated from under that mask. The Fool smiled, all white teeth and painted red lips, and then, without any prior warning, he spoke. And although Ratio had no idea what he was expecting him to say, it was the last thing he would have thought.
“Can you even walk with that on?”
“What?”
“Your cloak,” came the reply, as if it should have been obvious. “It’s just so long. Something like that would get in my way.” He said this with a casual shrug, leaning against the Occurrence as he spoke like they were friends talking about a nearby planet’s weather. What IS this?! Ratio thought frantically. He’s asking about my fashion sense?! As if he's not the one committing multiple crimes! Well, not that the Fools have ever cared about that.
“You’re the one who keeps causing trouble here.” It wasn’t a question. He knew the answer.
“Gotta keep myself amused somehow, doctor.”
“You know who I am.” Again, it wasn’t a question.
“Of course I do,” the Fool replied. “Renowned Genius, Doctor Veritas Ratio. What a name. What a title. Finally, you take notice of my humble efforts.”
“You have no place here, Fool.”
“I beg to differ. I love it in here. And I don’t plan on leaving your little experiments alone. I need it for something. Probably. Or maybe not. But regardless, it’s very important stuff. Genius, you might say. If you were so inclined.” Ratio was starting to think he was losing the plot. He could feel parts of his brain actively deteriorating with every word.
“Leave now, or I’ll need to–”
“Oh, don’t joke, doctor,” the Fool said with a flamboyant and dismissive flick of his wrist. “You wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Ratio took two steps forward, not even an inkling of a plan in his mind. The Fool dodged even the mere possibility of a blow, darting past with speed that was just slightly faster than that at which a human should be able to move, and Ratio’s heart jumped in terror. Reaching that horrible red Occurence in seconds, the Fool whirled around and bowed deeply at Ratio. It was quite the twisted sight– him bowing, the figure in the painting doing the same behind him. Then, with fluid movement, the Fool leapt backwards. He grabbed the top of the frame and braced his feet against the bottom of it. Rather than hitting the Occurrence like any solid object, though, he vanished into it, as if he was falling back into a pool of something more viscous than water. And then he was gone, and Ratio had achieved nothing. He started rushing towards the exit of the Universe, but something bright green and shimmering caught his eye, standing out starkly against the cold gray of the Base Zone’s floor. Despite myriad thoughts of curses and other horrible notions, Ratio swiped it up from the ground and turned it over with his fingers, holding it up vertically. It was a playing card. The back side of it was a lenticular lens– at one angle, it created a cartoonish green peacock feather the same as the ones the Fool was adorned with. When tilted just so to the left, it formed the unmistakable image of Aha the Elation. The card itself was the Ace of Spades, the lone symbol sitting perfectly in the middle. Mocking him. The white background of the card should have been blank and clean, but it had writing on it in magenta ink. Scrawled in small text near the top was written some sort of address, and Ratio recognized the planetary code, but not the exact location. In sprawling, underlined capital letters, diagonal across the card, was one word. As simply as something written by a Masked Fool could be, it said: Aventurine.
♠️
“Well?” Ratio tapped one foot against the floor, swiveling the desk chair he was sitting in back and forth. He craned his head, peering over Screwllum’s shoulder to look at the playing card under the magnifier apparatus they had set up on a desk. Screwllum picked it up and handed it back to Ratio, turning his own chair around to look at him.
“It is just a card.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“There is no hidden programming or physical matter, and it bears no similarities to any of the Curios we know of.”
“I should have guessed. The Masked Fools wouldn’t accept simplicity if it was given them by the Aeon Themself.”
“There is certainly nothing of suspicion on the surface of this mystery, but that Fool must have a reason for tampering with the Simulated Universe repeatedly. Even if he only just revealed himself to you. Are you familiar with any of what is written here?” He tapped a mechanical finger against the messy writing on the card lying flat in Ratio's hand.
“The planetary code matches the Asdana system– it’s most likely on Penacony. One of the only planets of note in that area.”
“The Genius Society is not at all unfamiliar with Penacony. I myself have plans to expand the Divergent Universe project there.”
“None of us would go there for noncommercial reasons, though. The fact that the Fools have staked claim over some part of the Planet of Festivities is an obvious notion, but I see no relation to my work.”
“And what of this? “Aventurine?” It is simply a precious stone, a type of quartz. Seemingly not at all related to Asdana or Penacony.”
“How strange. There must be some connection. Something I’m missing.” Ratio had heard countless testimonies about how wondrous and fascinating Penacony’s famed Dreamscape was. He had never been particularly interested in experiencing it for himself. That was, until a cunning Masked Fool left him a cryptic, taunting message that was almost one hundred percent a trap. The curiosity of a Genius was a dangerous thing. Surely it couldn’t hurt to pay Penacony a visit…?
“I would advise you to conduct further research on what location this message is specifically referencing,” Screwllum said, interrupting Ratio’s wandering thoughts. “Depending on its origin, you may find a way to put an end to the Fool’s infringement on the Station.”
“I will do so,” Ratio replied, somewhat entertaining the idea of taking a trip to the Planet of Festivities. He pocketed the card and made to walk away, fully intending to conduct his research at home.
“Mr. Ratio,” Screwllum spoke up, and Ratio turned around inquisitively. If the mechanical monarch’s face could emote, he would be wearing a concerned but sharp expression. “As much as I am aware of the lengths you are willing to go for your work… I would strongly advise you not to go to Penacony at the moment. You are very much indispensable, and we would all hate for you to be entrapped in the Masked Fools’ dangerous trickery.”
“Naturally,” Ratio said. Whether he would heed this advice remained to be seen. After all, going to the Dreamscape might help him solve this whole problem. Perhaps it was a shot in the dark, but Ratio was nothing if not a perfectionist.
After putting on his golden headpiece and delivering a thorough verbal report to Security, he took a shuttle home. Ratio immediately changed out of his work clothes, bathed, and sat down once in his bedroom. He slid his glasses onto his face and booted up his monitors, pulling up multiple screens to work with. He started by looking up the address. As he’d assumed, it was on Penacony, and in the Dreamscape, but that was all the information he could find, even after searching deep into his databases. Either the Planet of Festivities’ advertising ploys were so strategic that one simply had no choice but to visit in order to find any information out, or the Masked Fools had meticulously wiped all incriminating data from all online searches. Both options were quite annoying. Blatantly ignoring the time in the bottom right corners of his screens, he continued to scroll through pages. A notification alerting him that it was midnight appeared, and he swiped it away in favor of searching one last thing. He quickly typed Aventurine into a search bar, finger hesitating over the ‘confirm’ button for a split second before pressing it harder than was necessary. Thousands of results came up, all essentially relaying the same information. “Is This Green Gem Worth Anything?” “Click to read about the newest stone discoveries.” “Aventurine: Luck or Loss?” How banal. None of this served any purpose to him. He practically had no choice but to go to this place in person. Right? Ratio shook his head aggressively to clear the impulsive thoughts. Nous’ sake, he thought. Even if the card doesn’t have any issues, surely that Fool did something to mess with my brain. Why am I even considering this? I should resume in the morning when my thoughts aren’t going astray. Swiping away his holographic screens, Ratio flopped against his bed, feeling the day’s exhaustion soaking into his muscles. His dreams were mostly normal, but his subconscious insisted on inserting subliminal images of strange masks, just inside of his mind’s eye.
As it turned out, Ratio realized when he woke up, those thoughts he’d assumed were the product of a long day and a late night still lingered in the back of his mind. He had never been one to follow his flighty first inclinations– doing so was the habit of idiots. But he was starting to think it was unavoidable. Ratio ordered a shuttle to Penacony leaving in a day, using his own money rather than writing it off as a work expense. It wasn’t wildly expensive either way, but it seemed better to go it alone for this. Perhaps it was irrational– in fact, it was definitely irrational! Maybe his morbid curiosity was going to get the better of him when he went to this forsaken planet. But he was going to go to the forsaken planet. This whole thing just bothered him. There was something he hadn’t told Screwllum– not on purpose; it had genuinely slipped his mind. Why did that Masked Fool not only know who he was, but also let on that Ratio’s attention was something he’d been vying for for a while? Ratio couldn’t remember the exact wording, but the Fool had said something about needing his experiments for something. This was utterly ridiculous. He’d better start preparing.