Welcome to another exciting installment of Spacemon, the tale of a Pokemon TRPG campaign! It is a sci-fi space epic played using the Pokemon Tabletop United (PTU) system and GMed by fellow TAY author DragonStorm247. You can get caught up on our previous adventures here!
Previously on Spacemon…
In the wake of the destruction of the GCS Halcyon, the crew of the UAS Helix and their friends in the Red Suns laid out the plans for their counterattack against Mr. Silver, the supposed mastermind behind the attack and a Galaxy-wide conspiracy. With their strategy determined, the Helix and the Corsair went their separate ways to make their preparations.
Silence permeates through the empty corridors of the UAS Helix as the ship moves through warp space toward its destination. The crew steels themselves as they make their preparations to confront Mr. Silver. The time has come to break the enigma of the screen-face.
In the warp lab, Shane sorts through his gear and comes across the strange, dubious looking disk he found when the crew had fought Kiril Zhukov on Banton. I forgot about this, he thinks as he turns the disk over in his hands.
He loads the disk up on the computer and takes a look. The code on the disk seems to be related to Porygon somehow so he releases D.A.T.A. and sends the Porygon2 inside to interact with it. Shane then installs the software onto his Pokemon, transforming it into a Porygon-Z.
After spending a bit of time testing out his newly evolved Pokemon’s abilities, Shane once again begins practicing with the Warp, hoping to find a way to make his warp portal idea work. He drops into warp space and tries splitting the warp sphere in half again, but this attempt is just as unsuccessful as the last. Frustrated, he gazes off into the empty Warp, and notices the line from the Mirror, which is odd, considering its considerable distance away.
“Huh,” Shane says. “Relative distance apparently doesn’t exist here.”
He returns his attention to the warp sphere, and instead of extending it to a specific point, he attempts to drag that point to the sphere of warp. It still takes effort, but seems to have been successful. Shane drops out of warp to inspect the result.
As he drops himself back out of warp space, Shane sees Morgan intensely investigating the spot where he had been standing moments ago. “Shane, do you… see this?” Morgan asks him when she notices him.
“See what?” Shane asks, confused by what she is talking about.
“This,” Morgan says again, this time pointing to the spot that she had been investigating.
“I’m not seeing anything.”
“Are you sure? I think you did this.”
“Yeah… I’m really not seeing anything. Are you okay?”
“Can you just warp over there for a second?” Morgan asks him, pointing to the far side of the room. Shane complies and sees her investigating where he had been standing once again. “It’s some sort of very fine powder. Like dust, but… it’s warm, and glows purple.”
“What is it?” Shane asks as he walks back over to Morgan.
“It has to be some sort of remnant of your power. Hold on, let’s test this. I’m going to leave, and, while I’m out, I want you to warp to a few locations around the ship that I can’t see, but I want you to remember where you were.”
“That might take a while,” Shane tells her. “I can’t warp too often in a short time span.”
“That’s fine. Just let me know when you’re done.” Morgan steps out of the room, then Shane warps away.
Shane first warps to the sealed cryo lab, then to the cargo hold near the Gardener Sphere, and then returns once more to the warp lab after recuperating. He opens the door to get Morgan.
“Okay… I’ve done as you’ve asked. Is there anything else you need?”
“No, thank you. I’m going to see if I can find any more of that residue. I’ll be back soon.”
After Morgan leaves, Shane resumes trying to create a viable warp portal. Despite the new approach, there is still only one sphere of warp in the room. When it becomes obvious that it isn’t going to work, Shane shuts off the warp drive and then releases V.O.I.D. so that he can get some training in with the Cofagrigus before they arrive at Mr. Silver’s ship.
After training for a while, Shane hears the door slide open behind him. He turns to see Morgan standing in the doorway, looking quite pale. He quickly recalls V.O.I.D. upon seeing her, aware of her fear of the Cofagrigus. “You okay, Morgan?” he asks. “I guess it should be obvious, but it looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Morgan looks at him with an annoyed expression on her face, not amused by his terrible joke.
“Anyway, that’s beside the point,” Shane continues. “You wanted something?”
“I’m not crazy,” Morgan proclaims. “You went to the cargo bay, next to the Gardener Sphere, and H’s cryo lab.” She seems to be quite proud of herself. “If he ever found out about that,” she adds jokingly. “You’re dead.”
“Alright, you’re three for three there,” Shane tells her. “But, for the record, I never really thought you were crazy in the first place.”
“I wasn’t so sure.”
“I would like to test this experiment further. From what you’ve seen of… whatever it is that I left at those two places, can you tell roughly which one I was at first?”
“No, but it may have just been too recent to tell the difference.”
Alex sits in her room tinkering with a Great Ball. The scraps of the broken Pokeballs the crew had used over the past few days lie scattered across her work table. Lumiera floats above her head, the Lampent providing her with extra light. Working on Pokeballs is something that always helps her to relieve stress, and now is when she needs it the most. The events of the past few weeks, and all the senseless death, had left her feeling a bit shaken. As the Helix draws nearer to the one who orchestrated the events aboard the Halcyon, Alex can’t help but feel nervous.
With one last adjustment, something clicks and the button on the ball lights up for a moment. Alex sets the ball aside, and makes a mental note to return it to Morgan, as it had been hers before she failed to catch her Charmander the first time. She then picks up the last remaining ball and quickly fixes it up as it had only suffered mild damage. This one she tosses over to her pile of finished Pokeballs, as it had belonged to H and she had no desire to do anything nice for him.
With her work complete, she slides her chair back and stands up.“Thanks, Lumiera,” she says as she hugs her Lampent. She then walks over to her bag and fishes out the dusk stone that Arlon had left for her. The purplish stone seems to glow as Lumiera’s light passes through it.
“This is for you,” Alex says as she holds the stone out to her Pokemon. “That Arlon guy left it for us so that you can evolve.” Lumiera lets out a cute sound as she floats over to Alex’s hand. As the Pokemon approaches, she begins to glow even brighter, as does the stone.
When the light dies down, Alex sees the stone in her hand go dark. She looks up at her newly evolved Pokemon, and gives the Chandelure another hug. “Wow, you’re so pretty!” she she squeals. Seeing her Pokemon grow and evolve always fills Alex with such joy.
Eventually, she lets go of Lumiera, then picks up the ball she repaired for Morgan. The ghostly chandelier trails behind Alex as she exits her room and goes next door to give the ball back to Morgan.
Morgan sits in her room, quietly organizing her Pokemon and equipment for their meeting. Even with all the equipment she purchased, she still doesn’t feel prepared, but she’s not sure there’s anything that can make her feel comfortable about a meeting with Mr. Silver. She hears the door slide open and looks over to see Alex standing in the doorway, her newly evolved Chandelure floating over her head. “Oh, Alex. Do you, um… do you need something?”
Alex steps into the room and holds up a Great Ball. “This is yours,” she says to Morgan. “I, uh, fixed it for you.”
“Oh… thanks,” Morgan tells the girl as she takes the ball out of her hand. She smiles politely, unsure of what to say. She gets the sense that the ball really isn’t the reason why Alex is here. “Was that it, or did you need, um… was there something else?”
“Oh, yeah,” Alex says nervously. “I… I, uh, wanted to… I wanted to talk to you about… about the other day.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course. What, is something wrong, or...?”
“I, uh… I just don’t… I just don’t want you to think that I might… that I might do that again.”
“Oh.” Morgan looks startled, and a bit sheepish.
“It was a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry. I, um, I… I didn’t mean to treat you differently. I just… I didn’t know what to say, you know? I’m sorry, I don’t... want this to change things. I understand, okay?”
Before Morgan can say anything else, Alex scampers out of the room with her ghostly companion floating along behind her.
The crew gathers on the bridge as the Helix drops out of warp space in Outer Rim Sector 29. The frigate flies toward the large ship belonging to Mr. Silver. The ship hails the Helix and a man appears on the viewscreen. “Mr. Silver is expecting you,” he says, then transmits docking instructions.
“This isn’t creepy at all,” Minerva says as she flies the ship into the hangar. She pulls the Helix in next to the already-docked Corsair and sets the ship down. The crew steps off the Helix where they are greeted by Arlon, Rena, and Kiril.
“I remember the last time we met like this,” Shane says with a slight chuckle.
“I believe I was standing over there,” Arlon says, pointing to where the Helix crew now stands.
“Something like zat,” Rena adds. “At least zis time we are not meeting as enemies.”
“Right then, shall we?” Arlon asks, nodding toward the door.
The team walks past the guards who direct them down the hallway. At each intersection, another set of guards point them further along until they arrive at the door to Mr. Silver’s office. The doors slide open and they step inside. The familiar silhouette stands, back turned, facing the viewport.
Arlon and his two lieutenants hang back as the Helix crew steps further into the room. Arlon leans his back against the wall, looking on with interest.
Morgan steps up to the front and addresses the silhouetted figure: “It’s been a long time, Mr. Silver.”
“Indeed,” the mysterious man replies as he turns to face his guests. A massive amount of data scrolls across the screen-face: the current activities of the Red Suns, the current activities of the Helix crew, a dossier on Alex.
Alex stares in horror at the sight before her: the Mr. Mime so heavily modified with cybernetics, its life reduced to that of a mere puppet without even a face left to call its own. Monster. The thought screams inside her head, but she’s too horrified to speak it.
Seeing the look on the girl’s face, Mr. Silver turns his attention to her. “Ah, Alexandria Hawthorne, age 17, planet of origin: Vandia, orphaned daughter of Dr. Robert Hawthorne, PhD., expert on ancient archaeology, current location: unknown. I do believe this is the first time we’ve met.”
As he speaks, data on Alex’s life flashes across the screen: her Spacenet presence, photos of her, articles on her father’s disappearance. The flood of information stabs at the girl’s heart. This man, this monster, knows her entire life story like some sort of horrifying Starnet entity; an apocalyptic harbinger she had seen in countless films. “H- how can you… possibly know all that?” she manages to stutter.
“I know many things.”
“Leave her out of this,” Morgan tells Mr. Silver, coming to Alex’s defense. “We didn’t come here to talk about her.”
“No. You didn’t.”
“We came here… well, I came here to ask you about that skull I gave to you several months ago,” she says.
“Of course you did,” Mr. Silver replies.
“It’s been long enough. You should know what it is by now, and I deserve to know as well.”
“Naturally. I suppose there is no harm in telling you at this point. It is the first Pokemon.”
“And what, exactly, does that mean?”
“You’ve been in contact with Gilgamesh. Surely he’s told you by now.”
“So, tell us something we don’t know,” Shane cuts in.
“And how much do you know?” Mr. Silver asks him.
“Something tells me that you know more about us than we do.”
“Oh, of that, I have no doubt.” Images of Shane and the Gardener Sphere flash across the screen. “But how much do you know?”
“I would say ‘more than you think,’ but we all know that’s a lie.”
“So, have you figured it out yet?” The question seems rhetorical, almost patronizing. “I know you have the sphere.”
“We have figured it out,” H cuts in. “I am the chosen one. We already discussed that last meeting. That’s old news. You already knew that, so why even ask that question? We’re wasting time.”
“Ah, yes, Experiment #1749XQR5Z-H, how has Armstrong been treating you lately?”
“Quite well,” H responds.
“Certainly better than the others.”
“Of course he would. I am the one that stands. I am the last. I am the chosen.”
“You really believe that, don’t you?”
“I would not be standing here if it were not true.”
“It is because you are a leftover.”
“Yes, I am the leftovers because I have been chosen by fate. If it is not the design of some madman such as yourself, choosing and manipulating from afar, then it is that of something even further up higher than yourself. It is inexplicable, but I am here, I am the last of my brethren, and I will succeed where they have failed.”
“You are a leftover because there was no further use for you.”
“If you don’t have a use for me, that does not mean the Universe does not have a use for me.”
“The Universe does not, in fact, have a use for you. You are a footnote, a stepping stone. Your time has already passed.”
“Well, then I shall follow the path of the fool, the path to claim what is not even rightfully mine, regardless, for, in my eyes, I will be able to claim what I see as rightfully mine. Only fools can change history.”
“You don’t know the purpose of the experiments, do you?”
“I do not, nor do I care, for, as you said, they are but a footnote. Now, let us get back to the reason we are here today: so we can give you information, and you can give us the information you did not give all those months ago: the warp matter, the Earth, the skulls and skeletons and fossils…”
“I would have thought Earth would have been obvious by now.”
“Obviously it was for that skull,” Morgan tells him.
“Naturally. I must thank you again for providing it. It has been most helpful.”
“What have you done with that skull?” Morgan asks.
“I don’t believe that was our arrangement. You asked what it was, and I told you.” Mr. Silver once again turns back to Shane. “It’s a shame really, you not remembering. So, how about this?” He trails off as the screen-face slides open partially, revealing a port. “You want to know who I am?” He seems to be beckoning Shane inside.
“You can’t seriously be considering this,” Morgan says, turning to look at Shane.
“There is only one way to find out,” Mr. Silver continues. “Naturally, I wouldn’t expect you to feel comfortable with this… Know that I only offer you this opportunity because, at this point, there is nothing you can do to stop me.”
Arlon steps forward. “I suppose the reason for this meeting was quite obvious then,” he says. “You know we don’t trust you. You probably know that I have never trusted you, mate. So stop playing these games and just fucking tell us what we want to know.”
“It would be easier to show you.”
Reluctantly, Shane walks up to Mr. Silver and boots himself into the system through the port. He finds himself in a large, open digital space. The whiteness seems to stretch on indefinitely, but the “room” Shane now stands in is bound by a sphere of floating windows of data and images. A humanoid being of pure, ever shifting data sits in the center of the room. It turns to face Shane as he approaches it. “Hello, Gardener. It has been a while.”
“I’m sure it has,” Shane responds. Images and memories flash through his mind as he gazes upon Mr. Silver’s true form. Something about him feels familiar. It reminds him of as he was before the Sinai researches made him who he is now. But Mr. Silver seems whole; undamaged and free of human reconstruction. “But what exactly do you mean by ‘a while?’”
“Since we last conversed like this, face to face as it were.”
“I assume this was before I… lost my memories.”
“Naturally. It was a number of millennia ago. ”
“So, why go through all the trouble of bringing me here?” Shane asks him, still not used to the idea that he himself is so ancient.
“Because, after everything, I thought you deserved to know. But make no mistake, you are no longer needed.”
“You mentioned you have a plan that we are powerless to stop.”
“Yes. The plan, which you also do not seem to remember.”
“I’m sure that would make a lot of sense… if I had my memories.”
“Yes, I suppose it would.”
“Care to enlighten me, then?”
“Have you ever asked yourself… why Humans and Pokemon?”
“A very difficult question to ask when the only one who can answer it is yourself,” Shane points out, rather annoyed with Mr. Silver’s skirting questions.
“But you have thought about it.”
The room shifts as Mr. Silver stands up and motions for Shane to follow him. Shane follows the AI as he walks him around the room, showing various images in a galactic timeline, a circular timeline, leading him back through time. “And I suppose you’ve also wondered… how we came to be,” he says, speaking of Shane and himself.
“The thought had crossed my mind.”
“And have you uncovered any hints in your journeys?”
“We have discovered many… artifacts… left behind by what we assume to be an ancient civilization.”
“Ah, yes.” Images of the places the Helix has visited flash around the edges of the room. The sights of ancient ruins and remnants of ancient civilizations. “I know your… scientists...” The images of the ruins are replaced by pictures of the Helix crew. “Have been studying ancient life forms.” The images are once again replaced by those of the Genesect, the golem-creature on Prague, the Storm Leviathan of Messina, Darkrai, and Giratina. “Tell me, what conclusions have you reached?”
“The only conclusions, other than speculation, that we’ve come to is that… ancient life forms such as the Genesect… are physically incapable of reproduction.”
“And what follows from that?”
“Somebody, presumably me, must have given life to all of them. If they couldn’t reproduce on their own, then… who’s to say that they ever needed to? Perhaps their lifespan is… significantly longer than that of Humans, almost indefinite.”
“You are half-correct in your assessment of their lifespan, and you are half-correct in your conclusion on their reproduction.” Mr. Silver motions to Shane and himself. “You see, we are the methods of their replication, we are the stewards of the coming generation.”
“Just get to the point already.”
“That is the point.”
“So… how exactly did we go about doing that?”
“The plan is straightforward, by our standards at least. You plant the seeds, and I reap the harvest.”
Shane clenches his fists in anger at Mr. Silver’s words. His mark glows a violent shade of purple.
“I see your time with the Humans has changed you,” the AI responds. He then looks up as images of Shane’s comrades gathered in the office appear. They look on as the two converse using their various devices, various expressions of anger and distress on full display. “I fear we don’t have much time left, if your… friends… are still enacting their plan.”
“You really expect us to just… sit back and watch as you kill everyone and everything in the Galaxy?” Shane asks him.
“You really don’t remember,” Mr. Silver says with a hint of condescension as he shifts his gaze back upon Shane.
“And now I’m not so sure I want to.”
“I’ve had enough of this shit,” Arlon’s voice echoes in through the video footage of the office. He steps forward towards the stationary Mr. Mime as the cyber-weapon slides out of his sleeve into his hand. The liquid metal blade slides out as Arlon brandishes the weapon. He lunges forward and stabs the cybernetic Pokemon in the face, piercing right through the screen.
The wall of data screens cracks as the weapon is jabbed through into the digital space. The room begins to glow a deep shade of purple as data and information is forcibly pulled out into the device. A weird feeling comes over Shane and he decides it best to make his exit.
“Goodbye, Mr. Silver,” Shane says as he turns to leave the way he came in. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the AI advancing towards the blade, wielding tendrils of information and methodically shutting down the surrounding channels on the walls, one by one.
Shane returns once more to the physical realm to see his comrades ready to go. Arlon stands over the motionless Mr. Mime, hand still on the device jabbed into its face.
With full access to Mr. Silver’s network, Arlon manages to shut down the ship’s alarms and buy the team some time. The device rapidly pulls in information, but as time goes on, it begins to slow down, as if Mr. Silver is fighting back. Once the data slows to a trickle, Arlon yanks the device out and turns back to his comrades. “It’s time to go,” he says to them.
The team quickly but calmly exits the room and they begin making their way back to the hangar. “Well, that went well,” Arlon says, keeping up appearances for the guards.
Shane catches Arlon’s drift and plays along.“As well as a meeting with Mr. Silver can go,” he replies.
“But it was… interesting,” Dmitri adds.
“It was actually kind of disappointing,” says Morgan. “I guess I should have expected this. It’s not like he ever told us much before.”
“Well, maybe if we had done less stabbing and more talking…” H grumbles. The nearest guard looks at the team with suspicion, hand on his weapon.
“But you kind of need to ask those stabbing questions, mate,” Arlon reacts quickly. “I’ve been working for Mr. Silver for a while now, and you really do have to ask them if you want to get anywhere.”
They pick up the pace and soon make it back to the hangar. As they part ways and head to their respective ships, several guards start making their way across the hangar toward them. Before they reach the other end, the Helix and the Corsair both fire up their engines and fly away, off into the vacuum of space.
The Helix and the Corsair regroup at their predetermined rendezvous point and dock to plan their next move. Over the next couple of days, the crews of both ships tirelessly pour over the data they pulled from Mr. Silver’s network. Most of the data is mostly low-level operation reports and shipping manifests. One set of coordinates, however, stands out.
“All this information seems to suggest that there’s something important at these coordinates,” Arlon says as he points to the location on the navchart on the bridge of the Helix. “They’re sending gear, tech, even that bloody skull. We already know that damn thing is important, so if that bastard sent it there, then I’m willing to bet that there’s something big there.”
“We should leave as soon as possible,” Morgan responds.
“Let me get this straight,” Minerva says. “We’re going to the creepy, mysterious coordinates without backup?”
“We’ll be going with you, luv,” Arlon tells her.
“Oh, great. We have an extra ship. That makes it so much better. Okay, we can go now,” Minerva replies, her sass turned up to maximum.
“Bloody hell, you’re almost as bad as my own pilot.”
“She does raise a good point though,” Morgan points out.
“Why would we need backup?” H asks.
“Oh, I don’t know… maybe so that we don’t die horribly,” Minerva retorts.
“We won’t die horribly, H tells her. “Well, you might, but I won’t!”
“Well, I like living… and I’d rather keep living.”
“I think we all would,” says Shane. “What about Graves? She’s helped us before.”
“Honestly, if I was her, I’m not so sure I’d believe us,” Morgan tells him.
“It can’t hurt to ask.”
Shane walks over to the comm systems and contacts the FNS Halberd. Surprisingly, the crew is put directly through to Admiral Graves. “Hello again,” the admiral greets them. “Thank you for the tip about the Halcyon.”
“It was the least we could do,” Shane tells her. “I just wish we could have done more…”
“The losses were regrettable, but, at the very least, we were able to prepare for the worst case scenario as it happened.”
“I hate to break it to you, but we have more bad news,” Shane tells her. The admiral stares back with her ever calm, stern expression, always prepared for bad news. “Have you ever come across the name Mr. Silver?”
“The name comes up in intelligence reports every now and then. What of it?”
“The short answer is, he’s trying to destroy the Galaxy. The long answer… We need you to help us stop him.”
“You do realize that we’re fighting a war now?” the admiral asks.
“And I have a feeling there’s another one coming,” Arlon cuts in. “The Romanovs are simply pawns in Silver’s game. We have evidence to show that he was behind the attack on the Halcyon, the Genesect, everything.”
“I’ll transmit the data now,” Morgan tells the Admiral. She walks to the console and begins the data transfer.
Graves looks over the information as it comes in, her expression remaining stern. “This is a very serious matter,” she says.
“That’s why we need your help,” Morgan tells her.
“Send me the coordinates. I will send a fleet to meet you there.”
“Thank you,” Morgan says as she transmits the coordinates.
“Best of luck,” the admiral tells the team before hanging up.
“There, is an entire Federation fleet good enough for you?” Morgan asks Minerva, turning her attention to the pilot.
“As long as we don’t have a repeat of last time,” Minerva quips. “But what are the odds of a digital glitch bomb happening twice?”
“Well then, let’s get moving,” Arlon says. “I’ll see you on the other side.” He departs from the bridge and returns to the Corsair.
The Helix and the Corsair drop out of warp space in the fringes of Sector 7 in Alliance Space. The coordinates are in a dark, starless, empty corner of space between systems. The only sight in the void are tiny points of light in the distance and the large Federation fleet securing the area.
The dreadnought commanding the fleet hails the newly arrived ships and directs them to land in the main hangar. Both frigates pull into the ship and set down. The crew disembarks from the Helix and joins up with Arlon and his lieutenants. They look over to see a small space station, no bigger than the Helix itself, sitting in the hangar, secured by several squads of Federation marines.
“Well, it’s certainly smaller than I expected,” Shane comments.
“This is Mr. Silver’s base,” Morgan points out. “It could still be very dangerous.”
The team walks to the entrance to the station where they are stopped by a pair of marines. “You’re the ones who reported this?” one of them asks.
“Yes,” Morgan tells him.
The two marines salute and step aside. “The commander’s waiting for you inside.”
The team enters the station and, after walking down a short corridor, arrives at a small room. Two squads of marines have the room tightly secured. The commanding officer turns to look at the new arrivals as they enter.
“Greetings,” he says, extending his hand. “I’m Commander Bryce.”
“Well met, mate,” Arlon replies, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake.
“I’m glad you’re here. I’ve sent two squads in there,” the commander says, motioning toward the door. “I haven’t heard from either of them. I am not losing any more men.”
“If they’re still alive, we’ll do anything we can to get them back out,” Morgan tells him. The commander nods and steps out of the way.
“Well, it certainly seems like we’re walking into a trap,” Shane says as they approach the door.
“You know what they say, mate,” Arlon tells him. “Sometimes the best option is to spring the trap.”
They enter the next room to find a tram with a track that stops at a ring on the wall. “Where the hell are we supposed to go from here?” Arlon asks.
“On the tram, I guess,” Morgan suggests. They approach the small tram and begin to board.
“There’s not room for all of us,” Arlon observes. “You go on ahead. We’ll stay here.” The Helix crew boards the tram, leaving the Red Suns to hold to fort down. “Good luck,” Arlon tells them as the doors slide shut.
The tram begins to slide along the track toward the ring. As the tram approaches, the ring begins to light up and a glowing purple mass appears in the center. “It’s a warp gate,” Dmitri realizes as they inch closer.
“I’ve never seen one so small before,” Morgan says in disbelief.
The tram passes through the gate into the unknown, leaving the five Red Suns standing on the platform.
“I don’t like sending zem in zere alone,” Rena says with a worried tone.
“They can take care of themselves,” Arlon assures her. “And if something does happen to them, it’ll be up to us to finish the job.”
Session Notes: Well… that was certainly a conversation. That really didn’t at all go as I was expecting. There was a little bit of what, to me, felt like unnecessary forced linearity to this part of the session, but in the end I think the chapter turned out quite nice. Mr. Silver is revealed! I don’t know why I hadn’t considered AI… It just seems so obvious now! Major plot details. I always suspected it would be something like this: a sort of Mass Effecty cycle of planting the seeds for civilization and then reaping the harvest.
Sorry about the length of this one, but there was a lot to get through, and I had to find the perfect spot to end it with the right amount of suspense. What’s on the other side? What is Mr. Silver’s goal? Well… you’ll just have to wait and see in the final chapter of Spacemon, Volume 2!
That does it for this chapter. As always the Spacemon gang and I will be monitoring the comments to foster discussion and answer any questions. Feel free to give feedback and critiques of the writing so I can improve it for the future, or just leave a comment with what you think about what went down in this chapter or what you think might happen next! You can also revisit past chapters, check out the Spacemon Appendix which is a repository of information on all the lore and characters of Spacemon, or like our Facebook page to stay updated on all things Spacemon! Click here for the next exciting installment of Spacemon!