Pomegranate (2026)

[bunniefuu]

Your blocks become a glorified asylum.

I had to step over, no fewer than three.

I hesitate to call them people.

One of whom was trying to gnaw

off his own ear.

And that alleyway of yours, well,

two gentlemen,

the size of cargo rigs,

were engaging in... well...

I'm not one to impugn anyone's

recreational preferences.

But it wasn't particularly discreet.

You know, for a man whose livelihood

depends on a certain caliber of clientele,

you run a remarkably unsanitary

operation.

Hello to you, too.

Er, yes. Hello.

So, how's things?

How am I? Well, six hours.

Six hours with Niirocore's finest

synaptists yapping about wetware installs,

not an original thought between

the lot of them.

Absolutely nauseating.

I'm going to collapse from boredom.

I'm telling you now, the

tedium is going to

finish me off long before

the bit-rot does.

Well, can't have that.

Oh, certainly not.

It'd be a damn scandal if I expired here.

Your shop would be swarming with

Niirocore's forensics by sunrise.

I can't imagine they'd look too charitably

upon your, er, inventory.

Ah, you'd be surprised.

Right, yes. What have you got for me?

The chrome kids are raving about

these new spool from...

Sounds wonderful, thread me in.

What? You don't want to hear my pitch?

I'm not some smarmy little mesh dodger

who needs a brochure.

Just give me the damn spool. Please.

Right, of course.

Say what you will about this place.

It's the only appointment I keep

where I don't have to pretend...

You know what old Merrick called it?

As they was haulin' him out the water,

half his legs missing?

What?

Incorrigible.

The Leviathan,

Incorrigible he called it!

Hahahaha.

Articulate b*stard!

Aye, laugh it up.

But that beast's

been gorging on every

squirming worm the seas had to offer

since the dawn of time.

Before man ever walked the Earth, Aye!

Before your grandfather

was even a twinkle in his

father's sack.

And it still

hasn't had its fill.

You know what drives

a thing like that?

What, Captain?

I wish I knew!

But today, we slay that beast.

Starboard! Starboard!

Rhododendron!

Rhubarb!

Pomegranate!

Rhododendron?

Oh, come on. I was in the vicinity.

Of what?

Well, they share a phonetic.

There'sa floral quality to...

One's a shrub, sir.

You want an easier safe word?

No, no, no. I'm perfectly capable

of remembering pomegranate.

So, you bailed early there.

I didn't bail.

It's just...

how many fish can a man incarnate

as before the novelty of...

Leviathan.

Leviathans, Krakens, Serpents.

It's hardly a question of size.

It's...

How many heroes can you thrash about

in your jaws before they

all taste the same?

You know, I'll never stop to count.

Just run me another.

Something a bit more...

A bit more...

Oh, you're the professional here.

Just run something better.

Alright. See you on the other side.

No, no, no, no!

No, no!

You ready?

Wait for the f*cking signal!

Beloved acolytes of the Eternal Flame!

Wretched and unworthy children

of the God King's grace.

Our Lord has tasted every pleasure

this world dare offer,

yet hungers still!

And so, we have summoned the

most exquisite delights

from the furthest reaches of the kingdom.

Let us pray his divine loins may

yet find cause to stir.

Unleash them!

Pomegranate!

That bad, eh?

I...

I'm not sure how to put it.

Oh yeah, the vizier's a bit shrill,

I'll give you that.

If you sit tight, I can recalibrate

the voice.

Minstrels can use some... No.

His voice was perfectly...

It's not the voice, okay?

The spool's fine.

Tuned to my predilections even.

Remarkably...

Exotic.

The parts were there.

The music, the wine.

But the sum of it, nothing.

Just static.

I'm...

Let's have another go.

Something else.

Anything you the mood for?

You're the expert here.

Enchant me.

All right.

Let's try another angle.

Pomegranate!

Wanna talk about it?

I thrust a bayonet into a

man's aorta once.

During the Cradle Wars.

I could feel his

heartbeat through the handle.

Remarkable sensation, really,

the intimacy of it.

Then I played the other side.

I felt the blade come through

my own ribs.

Felt my lungs fill with something cold

and foreign, and then just black.

I fear it hardly made a dent.

First thing I did upon waking was

drop into a cat sim.

I've loved women in these spools,

spent whole lives with

them, cherished them.

Cherished them.

Sired children,

built homes,

cottages,

farmsteads,

All the quaint, simulacras

of the good life.

You know how these sims are.

And

And there must have been real

love in there, surely.

But

How many hands have I clutched

on their deathbeds?

How many eyes have I gazed into,

swearing my devotion?

My wife.

One wife.

She had the kindest green eyes.

Or were they blue?

I can't recall her name.

Any of them, really.

I watched East Cinder burn to the ground.

I saw the last grove felled in Norova.

Complete desolation.

I've incarnated as warriors,

Peasants,

Romantics,

Damn near every odd creature you

could hope to conjure.

I've lived them all.

Across every eon.

Hundreds of thousands of years of it.

But the massacres...

The extinctions...

The sublime...

None of it registers.

My nerves are gone.

Overwritten.

It's not that I'm

The synaptists insist the

bandwidth is there.

Virtually limitless, they tell me.

With the right augments,

the human mind can absorb centuries of

experience without degradation.

But I think I'm very much qualified

to say by now

that there's a finite amount of

wonder a soul can carry.

A finite capacity for

For awe,

wonder...

And I have most certainly spent it.

I've lived through more than any

soul was meant to carry.

And it has left me

Empty.

Bloated and empty.

Which is

Which is a rather cruel arithmetic,

isn't it?

I've got something.

Not on the menu.

I don't sell this one.

You always have something.

No. Not like this.

And I don't know if it'll work, but

I think it's worth a shot.

On the house.

What is it?

Ain't a brochure for this one.

Alright.

What was that?

A fly. A whole life.

24 hours, give or take.

A fly.

Have you got any?

Here, in the shop.

Got any what?

Flies.

Actual flies.

It's a grimy workshop, mate.

There's all sorts buzzing about.

Good.

Go and fetch me a transfer, rig.

Are you sure?

Substrate migrations are a lot

more permanent than

I know.

Pomegranate won't work this time.

The rig.

Please.