“…I am genuinely not sure if this is incredibly creative of Gaia or incredibly lazy,” John said, when they spawned into what appeared to be a music store. Unusually, the room was circular, otherwise nothing was really too unexpected. There were shelves filled with vinyls and CD cases, sorted by genre and alphabet, along the walls and in five rows through the room. Only five genres were represented: classical, metal, pop, jazz and techno. A peculiar selection, as far as John was concerned, and one that had to mean something.

At the back, carved out of the black wall that shimmered with the artificiality of plastic, was the cash register. The man sitting behind was, aside from his three metre size, remarkably unremarkable. He had dark brown hair, the kind of beard that naturally grew after three weeks of not caring about it, dull green eyes, and wore, what John thought of, the typical CD store owner get up: a black shirt with grey buttons and blue jeans. On his head sat a street cap with the ACDC logo at the front of it.

‘If that’s the starting level for the bosses, that’ll be tough but managable,’ John thought and walked up to the counter. He felt a bit silly, as he could barely peer over the counter. “Excuse me, I read you put on the music?” he asked, since there was nothing else around.

“Yep, I’m here to summon the first five bosses.” Steve waved off and reached underneath the counter. He pulled out two vinyls and three CDs. The words on the front matched the five genres represented in the room. Four of them did, at least. The fonts chosen all matched the genres, which meant that the word ‘metal’ had more in common with lightning crossed with Norse runes than it did with the English alphabet. Without context clues, even John would have needed at least twenty seconds to decipher the word. “Once you pick one, you will be stuck with it until you have beaten the boss.”

John looked around the room. “Out of interest, where would I be fighting those bosses?”

“Right here in my shop.”

“A-ha,” the Gamer leaned sideways ever so slightly. “Would you let one of my companions stay behind the counter so they don’t participate in the fight?”

“That is not an option.”

Turning to Lorelei, he caught the seer lowering her head in a mild bow. “I will take my leave before you make your choice,” she assured. “If I may, I would like to offer my usual services beforehand.”

With the amount of Raiding they were doing, John was reconsidering his resolution that this wasn’t too taxing on her powers. ‘We’ll presumably be cutting our teeth on these five bosses for the rest of the session,’ he told himself. When he responded, he still sounded somewhat reluctant. “Alright, but promise me to relax afterwards.”

“I will do as it eases you, John,” she promised and stepped up to the counter. Staring from the left, she first touched the classical vinyl. “I see a needle tracking down the trenches in the ground. Flutes, strings, pianos, drums, trumpets and choirs operate in destructive harmony, increasing as the needle travels towards the inside. Then, a cacophony, destroying ears and souls alike.”

“Sounds like the orchestra is going to act like the source of various area damage effects,” John rubbed his chin, “I guess the needle is the arm on a vinyl player?”

“…Yes,” Lorelei nodded. “I can see the ground spinning, continuously obstructing you.”

“And as the songs continue, the fight gets harder, makes enough sense. Guess we are on timed phases then.” The Gamer rolled his neck. “Guess we can prepare for that. What about the second boss?”

Lorelei’s hand wandered over to the CD case for the metal album. “The ground spins once again, albeit the needle is replaced with a laser.”

“Makes enough sense, that’s how CDs get read.”

“I see a single entity, leading with various instruments or their voice. One song will bring him the support of his mechanical crew. One song will ignite his weapons with the fires of passion. One song will summon the entire band. Overly avid fans will distract the entity, interrupting the performance with their zealous worship. At the end of all songs, the metal will destroy you all.”

“So, phase one with adds, phase two with a weapon enchantment, and phase three with all different combat phases,” John broke it down. “Also, some kind of add that can be used to stun the boss? We’ll see. Lastly, wipe mechanic.”

Lorelei moved onto the third album, that being the pop one. “Once more a spinning floor and a laser… and visions of three segments.”

“Guess that’s the theme for the Raid,” John commented on the obvious. “Spinning floor, the reading technology appropriate for the medium, and phases based on time. Hope the timing is generous or all of these will be DPS checks.”

“Specifically for this I see… Egomania, based on beauty, then on riches, then crumbling in the face of reality. There will be many admirers in the first phase and many opportunists in the second, chasing after wealth the enemy leaves scattered around. In the end, the boss will lash out at all who are not her.”

Rave blew air out of her nose. “We fighting some entitled pop ‘singer’?”

“I love that you put that in air quotes,” John laughed. In general, his girlfriend found pop music to be exceedingly dull. There were select songs she liked because they were bass heavy enough, otherwise she avoided them like the plague. “Does sound like it though. Stereotypical stages of the pop star life: young and beautiful, beautiful and rich, rich and alone.” He returned to analysing the actual gameplay pattern. “I guess we got two varieties of adds for the first two phases, some charm CC and some kind of enrage at the end.”

“I also foresee demands for satisfaction. A promiscuous kiss between one of you and her, leading to more or nothing, a gamble of rage and heartbreak.” Lorelei took a pause. “And certain death should the songs reach their end. I assume this is another… as you would say ‘shared mechanic’.”

“Some kind of sex mechanic?” John wondered. He turned to his harem. “If it picks me, am I allowed to tango with a pop singer?”

“Ya can do whatever ya want, tiger, but you’re sleeping on the couch if ya do,” Rave responded with a half-joking smirk.

“To start with, why do I have to sleep on the couch when you’re annoyed?”

“That’s best girl privilege,” Rave responded. “Ya get to have the harem and I get to decide where ya sleep when ya piss me off. Ya know, for all the work I do keeping this ragtag bunch of bubble butts harmonious.”

“Hmm, you know what, fair enough,” John conceded the point. With all the benefits he drew out of their peculiar relationship status, her having that particular privilege was alright with him. Not that he intended to give her any reason to ever use it. With all the other shenanigans she had let him get away with, including building a harem this large in the first place, he would have to seriously screw up for her to get that mad. “For the record, I don’t want you to make out with the boss either… just feels weird… If we need to do it to beat the phase, I might reconsider.”

“Master, should you ever be banished to the couch, I will follow you,” Aclysia burst out suddenly.

“Oy, no undermining my authority!”

“I do not consent to being separated from my John due to your whims.”

“Easy,” John intervened. “You can trust Jane here to only pull that lever if she actually feels like I did something seriously bad. Maybe I will deserve it. Let’s keep a pin in that.”

The weaponized maid made a number of unhappy sounds, but did not raise her voice again. Appeasement happened in the form of Rave pulling the taller woman into a kiss. They whispered something back and forth. In the process, Aclysia nodded several times. John let them find their agreement between them. Lorelei, meanwhile, moved onto the fourth album: the jazz vinyl.

“We return to the needle and… I see no clear path for this one,” Lorelei reported. “The images shift depending on your actions.”

“Improv is one of the defining characteristics of jazz.” John nodded along. “If it’s based on our actions, though, there will be some kind of pattern to it. What about the last one?”

Lorelei placed her hand on the techno album and hummed. “I see waves of sound blare out from the centre of the CD. A musician guides the effort and can only be struck between songs. The first song will make it difficult to keep your footing. The second song will demand you to keep moving. The third song combines the two, into a true challenge. Unlike the others, this fight will not end when the laser hits the middle. Instead, it will reset to the start of the last song.”

“Right, so a fight about dodging area attacks and then unloading as much as possible between waves, that’s fairly straightforward.” John nodded and put his arm around Lorelei, pulling her into a hug. “You’ve been helpful like always,” he whispered into her ear.

“My contributions are minor,” Lorelei responded. “All I tell you, you would realize in your time.”

“Still, it saves us several pulls worth of investigation and makes it easier to estimate how we should approach early phases,” the Gamer insisted and kissed her on the cheek. “It’s true that your role in Raids isn’t vital, but every small contribution adds up to a whole.”

Lorelei chuckled. “In the Order we have a saying: every shield is part of the wall.”

“I suppose that has the same spirit.” He pulled away from her and gave her a slap to the bum. “Now get out of here. I’ll reward you later.”

“Thank you, Master,” she swooned, before leaving the barrier.

“She’s such a fucking good girl, it’s horrible,” Salamander remarked.

“Statement: you should strive to be more like her.”

Metra sneered. “Look at that, the robo-cunt giving others advice on how to behave.” She tapped Rex Magnar’s shaft on her shoulder. “What’s next, is Jane going to start becoming a reasonable person?”

“Retort: I consistently give others advice on how to behave and you being shaped in Jane’s likeness is not a coincidence.”

“Next one of ya two using me as a stand-in for insanity is gonna get punched.”

“Question: may I use you as a stand-in for violence instead?”

“Ya may use me as a stand-in for sexy.”

“Clarification: bottom-heavy?”

Rave rolled her eyes. “For all I care, sure, Sass-atrice.”

“Ahahaahaha!” Sylph laughed her way across the conversation. “Sass-atrice, that’s hilarious!”

Siena cleaned her already pristine claws. “About as hilarious as Beatrice is charismatic.”

“Statement: you are very Jane.”

Siena twisted her head to look over her own shoulder, curving her tail out of the way as best she could. “My behind was ranked third yesterday,” she recalled, then cupped her own tits. “Although I would say I have more to balance it out than the leader of our female clique.”

“Pretty sure you have the largest ass relative to size,” John gave his professional opinion.

“It used to be more modest,” the midnight elemental responded and licked her lips. “Then a beloved saviour of mine exerted his influence on my body. Ah,” she moaned that single syllable, “that may be the only kind of being dominated I can truly enjoy.”

“Modesty does not suit you,” John agreed.

Momo snorted. “With an ass that large, she can wear whatever she wants and will never look modest anyway.”

“Oh? I seem to recall you being quite a bit thinner when you left.”

“And I seem to recall you being a giant bitch when I left,” Momo answered sassily. “Guess the more things change, the more they stay the same.”

“You’re such an adorable brat,” Siena giggled, her eyes as sharp as her canines. “I do so enjoy it when you struggle for me.”

Momo raised an eyebrow. “Can you not be horny for five minutes?”

“There’s so much to be excited about.”

“Comment: I do not know if you should make that demand, Momo.”

“Whose side are you on here, Bae?” the sassy support asked the sassy maid. “I thought we’d do a nice double team on Siena. Take her down a peg or three.”

“Mission statement: to annoy in an entertaining way everyone I like and to annoy directly anyone I do not,” Beatrice presented her rationale.

Metra tapped her heel repeatedly on the ground. “Hate to tell you… ah, who am I kidding, I love to tell you! If that’s your mission, you’re failing.”

“Then why do you keep talking to me?” Beatrice asked.

“You’re around.”

“Then why did you seek me out to talk four hours, seven minutes and approximately 35 seconds ago?”

“Why would you count that shit?”

“Answer: because I knew you would attempt to pretend you don’t like me to sass me back, just like I knew that you would attempt to distract me by asking me why I would count that.” Beatrice’s lips curved into a mocking smile. “You are predictable, Mat.”

“I fucking hate talking to you.”

“As already established, you do not. It irritates you in a way that leaves you wanting for more. I’m giving you a verbal spanking.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck me yourself, coward.”

“God, I love watching you all banter.” John laughed, leaning against the counter. In the conflict of words between members of the harem, typically all of them won. Much as people threw accusations of disliking her at Beatrice, that was just the social dynamic the clockwork maid had with most. In any friend group, certain people took on certain roles and certain in-jokes became part of typical conversation. “We should make a decision, though, which one do we go with first?”

“Can we murder the pop one first?” Rave asked. “Kinda want to get that out of the way.”

John looked around the group for any other opinions. It hardly mattered to him, nor did the others seem to care. They could only assume they were all roughly the same difficulty. All they could base their decision on was a whim. Rave’s whim was as good as any.

“Pop it is then,” John decided and turned to Steve. “If you would.”