A brilliant golden sphere hovered in the luminous void, his radiant hue pulsing with quiet satisfaction.
From a short distance, two other entities observed him. One a sharp, refracting triangular prism, the other a softer, creamy orb that drifted close beside her.
Never seen those two before. Wonder who they are, Gold thought, his light flaring slightly brighter.
He had only recently completed his object–a creation he regarded with deep pride. It shimmered beside him, distinct and original, not a mere echo of his own form.
Maybe they're here to admire it. Can't blame them, it's impressive. Probably the best anyone's made around here.
The notion was pure self-flattery, a comfortable bubble of conjecture to inflate his already buoyant mood. Still, it wasn't entirely baseless. Crafting something truly new was rare among their kind, only a handful had managed it.
I've already shown it to everyone I know, might as well let these two see it too.
As the thought lingered, the two entities began to glide toward him.
Prism approached first, her prismatic facets catching and scattering light in delicate rainbows. Cream followed faithfully at her side.
"Greetings," Prism announced, her voice clear and measured. "I am Prism, and this is Cream."
"Hello," Cream added, her tone polite but carrying a faint edge of protectiveness.
"Pleasure to meet you." Prism continued smoothly.
"Hey. The name's Gold," the golden sphere replied casually. "What can I do for you?"
Cream's glow tightened. "You could start by showing some respect when addressing my boss."
She wasn't being hypocritical. Cream spoke freely with Prism in private after all, she was given permission. All that said, she expected others, especially strangers, to recognize Prism's authority.
It was simple loyalty, nothing more. Then again, perhaps there was a bit of hypocrisy though, she wasn't aware of it herself.
"Boss?" Gold echoed, genuinely puzzled. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Easy, Cream," Prism interjected gently.
"Sorry, Boss," Cream murmured, dimming slightly in apology.
Prism refocused on Gold. "I am seeking entities who possess a particular quality and I have reason to believe you are one of them."
"What kind of quality?" Gold asked, his tone unchanged—blunt, informal, the same way he addressed everyone.
Gold had never grasped the subtle gradients of social deference. To him, formality felt like favoritism, and favoritism felt unfair.
He spoke to everyone the same way. Direct, equal, unfiltered. Whether that stemmed from a principled belief in equality or simply a lack of social finesse was debatable. Perhaps both.
Prism began to explain her mission, keeping the details measured.
Gold's light flickered uncertainly. "I... don't really get it. Could you say that again?"
He wasn't pretending or being difficult, complex explanations simply slid past him. The more words Prism used, the murkier his understanding became.
Understood, Prism thought. He needs simplicity.
She adjusted without irritation. "Listen carefully..."
She rephrased everything in short, clear statements, repeating key points patiently until the golden sphere's glow steadied.
"I think I get it now," Gold said at last, though uncertainty lingered in his voice.
He wasn't entirely confident in his grasp, but comprehension wasn't his main concern anymore.
So they really did come for me and my object. Perfect timing, I wanted to show it off anyway. And maybe... maybe I can turn this into something better for myself.
A half-formed scheme began to take shape in his mind, born of opportunism and overconfidence.
"You'd better understand," Cream cut in sharply. "This mission is important. If you can't even follow a simple explanation, there's no point recruiting someone like you."
Prism allowed the comment without interference. She wanted Cream to voice her thoughts freely, corrections could come later if needed.
"Who said I even want to be recruited?" Gold shot back. They want me for some reason. That puts me in a strong position. I can use this to get something out of it.
Interesting, Prism noted silently, a faint spark of curiosity in her core.
Cream's light flared with indignation. "Do you have any idea what an honor this is? To be chosen for something this significant?"
"Not really," Gold replied with a casual pulse. "Sounds like a lot of effort. I only do what I want, when I want."
He was playing hard to get, or trying to. The strategy seemed sound in his mind. Resist, force them to bargain, then name his price. He had no idea how badly he had misjudged Prism.
"What?!" Cream exclaimed. "Do you even hear yourself?"
"Yeah, I do. Maybe you two should try motivating me."
"Don't be stupid!"
"Who're you calling stupid? I'm not stupid!" Gold snapped.
"Then stop saying stupid things!"
"Stop calling everything stupid!"
Their argument spiraled, voices overlapping in bright, heated pulses until Prism finally intervened.
"Enough, Cream. If he chooses not to join, then that's his decision."
"But Boss–"
"Forcing participation would defeat the purpose of this task entirely."
"See? Even she agrees with me," Gold said triumphantly.
Yet inside, nerves flickered through his golden core. Wait... this doesn't feel right.
"Are you sure, Boss?" Cream asked, hesitant.
"Absolutely. There are many others, better suited, more eager, who would welcome the opportunity."
Others? Cream thought. Boss never mentioned that before.
"Sorry to have wasted your time," Prism said calmly, turning away.
"It's fine," Gold replied automatically. No, it's not fine.
"Let's move on to the next candidate," Prism told Cream.
"If you say so, Boss."
Prism had already assessed Gold thoroughly in those few exchanges. She recognized the pattern. Bravado masking insecurity, opportunism without foresight. The bluff was already in motion.
He'll crack. And if he doesn't, replacements are plentiful.
Wait, come back! Gold thought desperately.
Pride warred with panic. Was this a bluff? Or were they truly indifferent?
He had mere moments to decide.
[Cream, follow my lead.] Prism sent privately.
[Understood, Boss.]
The two started to hover away from Gold, slowly, as if waiting for him to take action.
"Wait!" Gold called out, brighter now with urgency.
There it is, Prism thought.
She pivoted slowly, facets glinting. Beneath her composed surface lay a cold, precise mind. Always calculating, always prioritizing the mission and her master's will. Fairness mattered, but results mattered more.
"If... if I decide to join–" Gold began, stumbling.
Prism cut him off smoothly. "Forgive us, but we cannot linger with those who hesitate. Perhaps my initial assessment about you was mistaken."
"Exactly," Cream added, voice firm. "If you're not going to help, don't hold us back."
Cream had caught on quickly and matched Prism's tone perfectly, perhaps a touch too sharply, but effective.
She's aggressive. Prism noted privately. But it works.
The two began drifting away again.
Gold hovered frozen for a heartbeat, then started following, openly, no attempt at stealth. He was too preoccupied with salvaging the situation to worry about appearances. For once, real effort stirred in his usually idle thoughts.
[He's trailing us,] Cream reported.
[Predictable. Entities like him fold under pressure easily.]
[I didn't expect him to be this stubborn... but you handled it perfectly, Boss.]
[Don't get accustomed to seeing this side of me.]
A faint twinge of guilt shimmered through Prism. Manipulation–of anyone, let alone someone limited like Gold felt distasteful. Yet necessity overrode discomfort.
It was the cleanest path forward. Lord Cubix, I'm certain that you would've found a kinder and more effecient way, surely.
Still, she set the regret aside. The mission demanded progress.
Gold kept pace behind them, neither too close nor too distant. A golden streak trailing the prism and the cream orb through the glowing expanse.
Prism and Cream continued onward, purpose undeterred, while their reluctant shadow followed, already half-convinced he had chosen this path himself.