I Am Not Alone

"Ah, for fuck's sake!"

I'd been reading along just fine — until that last, completely out-of-nowhere addition to the update notes hit me. The realization that my entire "octopus-style" resource-mining operation was being forcibly shut down brought tears I couldn't hold back.

New Update (4)

And the moment I finished reading that update message—

Oh, come on.

Warning messages from every last one of my octopus-tentacle mining sites started flooding my vision, making my eyes spin. If there was any silver lining to this disaster, it came in three parts.

First: after the last time a player raided one of my resource zones, I'd plastered every mining ship with mobility-boosting gear for emergency evasion.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Second: some of those resource zones had been hit so often by pirates outside any player's — or Marianne's — control that I'd stationed partial fleets there as a precaution.

I hadn't planned for this, but thanks to those two factors, a handful of my roughly thirty octopus-style mining sites managed to weather the assault with only minimal losses.

Of course, the sites with actual fleet coverage amounted to less than a third of the thirty-odd zones. So it wasn't long after that wall of raid alerts before—

—I got to watch the mining fleets I'd scattered all over the map limp home one after another, battered half to death.

"Ghhhkk…"

"This is… rather serious."

"Commander, if you entrust a fleet to me… I will sortie immediately and sink every last ship that dared invade our resource zones."

"Just give me capital-ship gear and I'll cut them all down!"

"Oh my, oh my♡ How dare they attack our Commander's precious fleets… Such fearless little children♡"

I made a sound like a man drowning in his own phlegm. Jessica had brought Belial, Ignis, and Pashtura with her, and each of them reacted in her own way — but I just shook my head, forcing down the rage boiling up inside me.

The other three accepted it with a resigned Well, if the Commander says so… tch, nothing we can do sort of attitude. Jessica, though — my adjutant — tilted her head, clearly not understanding.

"This isn't like you, Commander."

"Mm."

"Is there a reason?"

At Jessica's question, I shrugged. Something I'd long since forgotten — buried under years of not thinking about it — had just come roaring back thanks to this absolute garbage of a raid event. I opened my mouth.

"This whole situation? It's an event that fires before you even pick a faction."

"…Ah."

"The lore is that each power is flexing how strong it is. Meaning I'm not the only one getting wrecked."

That was the third silver lining — the fact that I wasn't alone in this. To prove it, I opened the community window right there and pulled up the parade of players who'd been octopus-mining resource zones just like me and were now getting thoroughly, comprehensively screwed. I showed it to Jessica.

"Jessica."

"…"

"I am not alone."

My pathetic state put a deeply complicated expression on her face, but whatever. I wasn't the only victim, so who cared how undignified I looked? Side by side with our bunny-girl Jessica, I settled in for another cheerful, happy tour of the burning gallery.

And the first post we saw today was…

A raw scream from a newbie convinced the veterans had scammed him. And from the way that scream was setting the entire gallery on fire, it was clear a whole lot of players were suffering through this update.

"…Wow."

The Commanders' collective ugliness must have been genuinely shocking. Jessica kept opening her mouth as if to say something while staring at the gallery, only to clamp it shut again — or else let out short little gasps that might have been sighs or might have been awe, her eyes darting around in pure confusion.

But for all the righteous fury from newbies, the recently deceased, and clean-slate returnees like me, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the gallery's collective rage didn't stay pointed at other players for long.

The reason was simple…