Honestly, Even Your Majesty Laughed Too

Honestly, even Your Majesty laughed.

Fall of Tyrant King Gilmore was one of the greatest stage plays in the entire Wirod Dimension.

The life, the reign, and above all the ruin of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the tyrant who bore the same name — this sprawling epic of a production took a full year of preparation alone, mobilizing countless mages, professional actors, and even a full orchestra. It stood among the absolute masterpieces of the dimension.

Its only flaw was time.

The performance ran twenty-four hours in total, so it had to be split into parts and staged over nearly a week — which meant that while it was the most famous play in the world, it was equally famous as the one play nobody had ever actually watched to the end.

Then, thirty years ago, several of the era's celebrated playwrights gathered to restage it in a sleeker, modernized production, and a recording of that performance was preserved. That recording was what was currently broadcasting on Kraken.

And the climax of Fall of Tyrant King Gilmore — the moment that served as the spark for the downfall of its protagonist, the tyrant Gilmore himself — was the castration scene of Randor, Gilmore's right hand and one of history's most infamous traitorous ministers.

Gilmore, his mind unraveling beneath endless betrayals and the gathering shadow of his own sins, finally sentences his old friend and treacherous counselor Randor to castration, and Randor's shriek of agony becomes his vow of revenge. Dramatically speaking, it was, truly, a moment of magnificent, crushing tragedy.

Yes.

It really was a majestic, tragic ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠scene and all.........

The problem was that this thing was insanely funny.

The actor's framing. That unmistakable voice. And once you layered on the actor's signature facial expression on top, that moment of pure tragedy.......

Reborn as meme material, the scene began spreading to every corner of the net.

And the ones who had the greatest hand in birthing those memes were none other than the users of the Synthetic Magic Gallery.

Randor's voice, sliced apart syllable by syllable and stitched back into an utterly nonsensical song.

Randor's face composited onto dancing singers, wandering bards, and temple dancers, premiering full "performances."

Randor setting off on an epic adventure to find his two lost balls.......

The Synthetic Magic Gallery went absolutely feral in its hunt for the next hit after Wajugi.

And memes, as always, were dangerously contagious.

One by one.

Soul Pages.

Kraken channels.

And naturally, the galleries of Soul Net began deploying Randor's shriek of castration one board at a time.

"I'll walk you through the maze layout of the sixteenth floor again, so listen up. Ohhh — MY CASTRATION?! I'VE BEEN CASTRATED?! — thanks for the 500 Mana Fruit donation. Anyway, I keep seeing this thing everywhere lately. What the hell do castration and Randor have to.........what is this?"

In the end, the contagion reached even Iomene's stream, and then, at long last —

a video of Minister Randor singing a children's nursery rhyme while dancing shattered the impossible mark of forty million views, and the Randor meme carved itself into Soul Net as an indelible scar, a piece of history that could never be erased.

And that was precisely the problem.

Randor, the minister who had been the right hand of Tyrant King Gilmore, was royalty.

His name still sat, in black and white, on the imperial family's own genealogy.

And demeaning the imperial bloodline has been a political matter — a matter tied directly to the dignity of the entire Valrod Empire — in every era imaginable.

So what happened next?

"Elsie. I'm being serious with you. The Randor composites. How about we pull every last one of them down?"

"Wasn't that back when the Valrod Empire was still just a kingdom? Surely nobody's actually making an issue of something that ancient.........."

"It was about a hundred years ago. A hundred years. Not several hundred, not several thousand — one hundred. And on top of that, it's an extremely uncomfortable subject for the imperial family to handle."

"Because the fall of Tyrant King Gilmore is the past the Empire would rather bury."

"The current royal house barely wants the Kingdom of Valrod era mentioned at all. And now composites dredging up that whole period are sweeping across all of Soul Net — and worse, a member of the imperial bloodline, a treacherous minister yes, but still one written into the family tree, has a ridiculous video made of him singing a nursery rhyme and dancing, and it goes viral?"

".........No, they wouldn't like it. But Tower Master, if we try to censor this......."

"I know! I know perfectly well! It's already spread as far as it can spread! I know damn well that censoring it now would tear Soul Net itself apart! But if we just sit on our hands, the royal house is bound to have something to say about it!"

"There's a chance they'll simply let it slide, isn't there? It's a hundred years old, and people are just laughing and carrying on. Surely they can't come down on it with censorship and punishment over that? Soul Net holds an absurd position now — beyond the Valrod Empire, across the entire dimension."

"True. That's possible. They might let it go. Honestly.......I don't know. I genuinely don't know how the royal house is going to react to this."

So the Tower Master and I waited at the Black Magic Tower, sweating over the royal family's every move.

It's just a meme, isn't it?

Just a bunch of idiotic, funny composites, right?

There was no way they'd be petty enough to use this to hammer Soul Net.......

Right?

"Elsie Bwenner."

"Yes, Captain of the Royal Guard."

"Come with me. The Department of the Imperial Household has summoned you. Eldrad Camion, Tower Master of the Black Magic Tower — you have been summoned as well."

No.

Not even a shred of it.

The Tower Master and I were dragged off once again.

But this summons carried a fundamentally different atmosphere and weight from every hearing before it, from every previous assault on Soul Net.

"I am called Liam Ronfield, Minister of the Imperial Household. I shall speak plainly. It is my petition before this assembly that the creators of these Soul Net composites, having demeaned the imperial bloodline, be punished to the fullest extent, and that every soul who so much as shared those works be hunted down and made an example of!"

The Department of the Imperial Household — the organ that existed to govern the internal affairs of the imperial bloodline.

His Imperial Majesty the Emperor.

Her Imperial Majesty the Empress.

The Crown Prince and the Princesses.

And every relative ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and branch of the imperial family, gathered to the last.

At the very center of that assembly, the Tower Master and I stood alone, pinned beneath the Minister's crossfire.

The charge that had dragged us here was a blood-chilling one: demeaning the imperial bloodline.

We were so fucked.

Demeaning the imperial bloodline.

This was the kind of charge that was a nose ring if it hung from your nose and an earring if it hung from your ear.

But what could I do?

I certainly couldn't just lie down and die.

"This is unjust! Demeaning the imperial bloodline, you say! How can you pin such a charge on comedic composites?!"

"Like it or not, the very fact that videos compositing and mocking and ridiculing the imperial family were produced at all is the problem! If this becomes commonplace, how will the subjects of the Empire come to view their royal house hereafter?!"

"Is it not said that enduring mockery directed at oneself is the virtue of a wise ruler? True defamation of the imperial bloodline deserves punishment, certainly — but these composites were made purely in jest! Will you levy fines over a bit of harmless banter?!"

"Yes! I will! As Minister of the Imperial Household, I cannot possibly let this incident pass, Elsie Bwenner! If this is waved through as harmless, then what comes next? Now that a precedent exists, every other member of the imperial family becomes fair game for mockery and insult! What if videos ridiculing Her Majesty the Empress start circulating on Soul Net? What if videos insulting and taunting His Highness the Crown Prince start circulating?"

Minister Liam Ronfield drew in a breath, then roared it out like a war cry.

"Are you telling me there is no chance that videos demeaning, mocking, and insulting His Imperial Majesty himself might one day circulate?! Permitting this now is nothing less than a declaration that every last drop of royal blood may be humiliated from this day forward! And that I will never tolerate!"

It was a valid argument.

But at the same time, it was precisely the line we could not retreat across.

The moment we conceded this, Soul Net was finished.

The internet can never truly run with a leash around its neck.

"We concede that crossing the line into genuine insult and defamation of the royal house must be punished. But being unable to tolerate even this — mere play and pranks — is another matter entirely! These works do not tear down or deride the authority of the crown! They merely poke fun at one treacherous minister from the Tyrant King's era!"

The Tower Master nodded along firmly, backing me up without yielding an inch.

"Should not the man who earned mockery be mocked? This is not a demeaning of the imperial family or the royal house! If anything, it is closer to a dignified roasting of a man who committed a shameful deed! Does it not even serve as a warning never to repeat Randor's mistake?"

"Precisely! This is no contempt for the dignity of the royal house! If anything, the harder you try to bury this matter, the worse the backlash will be! Suppress the memory of the Tyrant King's era and the people will rebel! Soul Net must remain free! So I beg of you — withdraw the charge of demeaning the imperial bloodline!"

Despite our words, Minister Liam Ronfield exploded.

"Silence! You dare stand there spouting insolent nonsense about continuing to demean the royal house?! Give me but the word, Your Majesty, and I shall execute them on the spot!"

At that, His Imperial Majesty the Emperor glanced my way with a weary expression and let out a long sigh.

"I confess I should like to see these videos for myself. I was dragged into this assembly, yet buried in affairs of state, I have not yet seen how exactly my house was ridiculed."

The Emperor looked at me.

"Elsie Bwenner. Find them yourself and play them. So that every member of the royal house gathered here may see. One must see with one's own eyes to judge how the insult was delivered — whether the crime of demeaning the bloodline was truly committed."

I swallowed dryly.

Then, carefully, I opened the Kraken net page.

There was no need to search.

The hottest videos. The ones with the highest view counts — I had tuned the recommendation algorithm to surface exactly those.

And the results.

And then there was the one where he wiggled his backside and set off on a grand adventure to find his two vanished balls.......

Oh, for fuck's sake.

These were videos of bloodline-demeaning so raw and shameless I half wondered if I should just request execution on the spot. They played one after another, back to back.

The more the Minister of the Imperial Household watched, the more his face burned — until it flushed scarlet as a boiled beet, in real time. The Tower Master stared up at the ceiling, utterly unable to hide his pallor.

And the expressions of the imperial family members were, for the most part, none too pleasant either.

".........Does this not imply that we ourselves could be composited in such a manner?"

"A treacherous minister he may have been, but he was nonetheless our own ancestor. To treat him so......."

"This has gone too far."

The imperial relatives wore sour looks, and the Princesses were glaring daggers at me with expressions carved from ice.

And the Crown Prince was.......

Hm?

Isn't that man typing something on Soul Net right now?

I couldn't see what, but still.

I turned to the single most important person present — His Imperial Majesty the Emperor himself.

If even His Majesty's face had soured, it was over.

He would use the charge of demeaning the bloodline — a deus ex machina of a crime — to legally carve into Soul Net.

"Enough! There is nothing more to see! Shut it off this instant! And you dare call the production of these videos that demean the royal house — what, tolerance of mockery builds a wise ruler? Not repeating the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sins of the past, is it? What effect does any of this have beyond turning the imperial family into a laughingstock?!"

The Minister's rage detonated. The Empress looked down at me with a frost that could freeze bone. The Princesses sneered at the Kraken videos I had cast into the air above the assembly —

and at that very moment —

Right in the middle of Minister Randor's swaying-hip adventure in search of his escaped pair of balls —

"Pfft."

The Minister of the Imperial Household stopped mid-roar.

The murmuring imperial family froze for an instant as well.

His Imperial Majesty the Emperor was laughing at the video.

The instant Minister Randor's freakishly pitch-bent shriek rang out and the video cut to black —

"Pfft-hah!.........BWAHAHAHAHA!"

His Imperial Majesty's uncontrollable laughter began to shake the halls of the Department of the Imperial Household.

The video had ended.

Apart from the Emperor's laughter, not a single sound remained in the room.