Night. When the bright sky darkened into a smothering blue and the distant suns, light years away from this godforsaken earth, emerged. Some found beauty in it. Others found fear. For it was during the night that man is most vulnerable to monsters, demons, and other freaks of nature this disease ridden and radiated mother now carried in her.

But such fears no longer existed to the star-gazing man. He went by one single nickname The one most in the Mojave Wasteland had taken to calling Courier Six.

The Courier believed had seen it all. From the small Gecko to the Legendary Deathclaw. From the average human to stranded aliens. From the simple Radroach to the Legendary Cazador. From the Coyote to the Legendary Nightstalker. From the common Feral Ghoul to the abominations that are Centaurs. The Courier frowned in both disgust and pity at the thought of them.

He had seen and fought all those beings who stood in his way. Whether it was guns, blades, bludgeons, lasers, fire, plasma, pulse and any other means of attack… it did not matter. He would always stand at the top of all the bodies with whatever method he had chosen. This would not change. No. Never. It was a luxury he could not afford. It seemed fate would never grant him a day without conflict. To rest. To cease the endless fighting that constantly plagued him ever since he awoke in that bed in Goodsprings.

Which is why he felt not a smidget of fear within the nearly pitch black forest he currently resided in. His eyes danced from one glittering sun to another in awe at the beautiful sight before him. He woke up in stranger places. He also felt no immediate danger around his surroundings. He didn't bother looking around himself and into the dense and shadowy vegetation underneath the glowing white moon that constantly orbited the earth. It would've shined brighter on the foliage had it not been for the grey and depressing clouds currently obscuring it. Underneath his Elite riot gear helmet, his brows furrowed as he began collecting the stacking questions created by his brain.

Question One: Where was he? Question Two: Do I still have my gear? Question Three: Do I have enough food and water? Question Four: Why couldn't he remember what happened?

"Hey, ED-E, I think I just had the strangest hangover…"

Six clutched his helmet as the unpleasant sensation flowed through his head like Cazador poison. How this would help him relieve that negative feeling he didn't know.

"...ED-E?"

He began to stand up and looked around himself. He didn't find the Duraframe eyebot anywhere near him. That's a problem. He wanted to take a sharp inhale of breath and scream:

"ED-E! WHERE ARE YOU, BUDDY?!"

But knew better than to do so. He didn't know who or what would hear him.

Question Five: Where is ED-E?

Only the second and third would receive answers. Six found his large dusty brown backpack along with his Anti-Material and the Medicine Stick strapped to both sides of it. The weapons lay six feet away from where he was currently sprawled on. He slowly rose to his feet to make sure he hadn't broken or snapped something out of place. Everything in his body seemed to be in order. His spine wasn't missing, his brain felt the same, and he felt his heart pumping proudly. It seemed to him that his little blackout hadn't produced any consequences. Yet.

The Courier looked down to his right hip and noticed his Big Iron still in it's holster. He pulled the weapon out of its home and inspected it for any damage. Ah, yes, the Ranger Sequoia. If he remembered correctly, it's only given to NCR Rangers after twenty years of service. Six ran his gloved hand over the dark toned and engraved weapon he never left out of his arsenal. This was for a good reason. Many large creatures had met their end by being on the receiving end of this caliber. Hell, even Deathclaws stood no chance on a well placed or lucky shot. He had a lot of both.

"For Honorable Service. Against All Tyrants. Twenty Years." He mumbled to himself as he inspected the finely crafted weapon.

Chief Hanlon's face flashed through his mind for a second.

On his left hip lay one of his many weapons. Lucky. The variant of your standard .357 Magnum Revolver that he found inside of a grounded safe at the Bison Steve Hotel. He remembered obtaining it after casually gunning down two Powder Gangers acting as guards in the entrance. The barrel, frame and cylinder are made of a smooth black metal decorated with ornate gold etchings, and the polished ivory handle is inlaid with the clubs symbol. The word "Lucky" is engraved on the silver plate on the ejector tube. He liked to think the engravings both revolvers gave him a tactical advantage.

He holstered both weapons back into their respective leather holsters on his and then focused on his lower left limb. He drew the one-handed blade known as a Katana - strapped in a similar fashion to the sniper rifle which still lay on the floor - with his left hand. Curved. Slender. Single-edged. Deadly. It stayed effective against most enemies due to the speed at which at which he was able to slice through foes. At his best he was able to swing it nearly six times in a second thanks to his natural, powerful, and implanted abilities he gained throughout his adventure in the Mojave Wasteland.

Six modified this particular weapon with an authentic blade that replaced the original rusted crap. He also added a protective sheath or a "brown saya" as Mick had told him. Lastly, it came with a more balanced grip that allowed him to more comfortably grip which in turn allowed for faster swings. He smoothly inserted it back into the scabbard securely fastened near his left hip on one of the many belts on him.

Six then drew the one-handed chainsaw known to be a favorite among the Legion - and for good reason. The Ripper. Compact. Conceable. Versatile. Deadly. It chews through enemies faster than a Deathclaw after a fresh kill. The Courier also modified this weapon with a heavy duty chain, carbide teeth, and a silent motor to make sure he would sneak up on someone or something. Of course, when activated to its full potential, the motor would roar but by then it was already too late for anyone who made the mistake of getting in his way. He put it back and securely fastened it to the belt holding another melee weapon

To the right of the now fastened chainsaw next to the set of the black throwing knives, the Courier unsheathed the special - and better - variant of a normal bowie knife. Shape-wise, the clip-pointed blade stayed similar to that of the others commonly found. But this one, Blood-Nap as he had named it, deviated from the others when it came to color. Unlike the black handle and tainted steel of the normal knives, this one bore a brown-red handle and a strange shade of blue handle that gently glowed in darker areas. He recalled finding it lodged into a pole in The Courier's Mile as Ulysses had taken to calling it. He remembered asking what it was and receiving:

"My name for it. If you have a better one, you grant it - my choice in names won't carry past you and I." as an answer.

I wonder what he's doing right now...

The Courier then focused on his duster containing the inconspicuous and nearly silent handgun responsible for so many successful and quiet infiltrations. He drew the Silenced .22 pistol and made sure that it had also survived whatever had just happened to him. Despite being the weakest weapon in his inventory, it served as the deadliest gun when it caught people off-guard. It also served as the pistol he used on weaker things like Bloatflies, Radroaches, Fire Ants, and even humans he believed were not worthy of a 45-70 Government Round. He observed the washed out silver-colored barrel and black grip. He concluded that there was nothing amiss and placed it back within his duster.

Another weapon on his person was also a convenient and the only other energy weapon he had brought along with him. With his left hand, Six reached onto the upper right-side of his coat, just above the Ranger Sequoia, and drew the MF Hyperbreeder Alpha. As previously stated, this self-sufficient pistol required no microfusion cells on his already loaded self which freed up more space for him to carry. That all was thanks to the object known as the microfusion breeder within it. Six was actually experimenting with the loony doctors at the Big Mountain Research and Development Site - also known as Big MT or Big Empty - to try and get a scattergun-like rifle version of it, but they had yet to make any significant strides. He was sure they would figure out.

Right now, however, this unique variant of the recharger pistol that appeared significantly different to its inferior version would have to do. Colorwise, it possessed green tubing that latched onto its washed out black, gray and blue frame. Also unlike its weaker version, this MF breeder recharged a single cell in less than half a second. 0.3 seconds to be exact. The only downside compared to its counterpart was its magazine. It was only able to hold 10 shots. But this didn't matter as much as one would think. Even when being fired, the MF Hyperbreeder Alpha still restocked cells which allowed him to actually fire 19 shots before it became empty.

And now what started it all…

Six bitterly thought to himself as he drew the custom 9mm pistol sidearm made by the M&A Guns Manufactures.

Maria.

"Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe. That's how you say it, boss."

Raul's voice popped in his head upon seeing the heavenly woman painted onto the whitened grip of the weapon, praying as a holy light surrounded her body. The entire body of the pistol is damascened with ivy and floral details, with a polished nickel finish and a golden trigger. Benny had expensive tastes when it came to everything he owned. His gun was no exception. The thought of that snake made Six grimace underneath his helmet. He shoved that thought back into his head.

He turned his body to face the motionless sack and two rifles. He strapped the energy weapon back into his duster and continued forward. His soft steps sounded painfully loud under the extreme silence of whatever named or unnamed forest he currently found himself in. Once he stood inches from the two objects, he took a knee and clutched the heavy duty bag carrying many of his essentials.

Twelve bottles of purified water? Check. Five caravan lunches? Check. Three bottles of Antivenom? Check. Medical supplies? Check. Two sacks of Healing Poultice? Check. Four bottles of Rad-X? Check. Two packs of RadAway? Check. Four Stealth Boys? Check. Six Plasma Grenades? Check. One and nineteen more super stimpacks? Check. All various types of ammo accounted for? Check.

The list went on and on until everything went accounted for.

Hmm…maybe he had packed a little lightly. Consumable wise that is. He had two weapons - well technically it was three since the Holy Frags were a set of three. The third was his other spare melee weapon. He stopped checking through his contents and effortlessly lifted the bag into the air and let it rest on his back once more. The load of the two rifles strapped to the backpack added even further weight on his reinforced spine. To the average human they would consider this already too much. Six, however, could carry around 400 lbs and not break a sweat underneath al Speaking of which…

The Courier reached for the Medicine Stick first and inspected it for any damage. The lever-action brush gun looked no worse than he had last used it. He noticed that the little native-American pinwheel attached the stock had yet to receive any beating. His modified heart had a soft spot for this weapon. Factually, it was very versatile and held eight rounds which was more than enough for a sharpshooter like him. Under any situation, whether it was up close or from a good distance, this clean tube fed weapon never let him down. However, he knew better than to burden a single gun to do it all. That's why he had many firearms on him.

He slung the rifle over his shoulder and drew the Anti-Material rifle.

This gun is the second to last answer to whatever foe refused to not die. The magazine fed, bolt action, .50 caliber rifle did exactly as its name suggested. It tore through absolutely anything it came across. Nothing could stand against its sheer power. That said, it is bolt-action. As such, the fire rate is painfully slow. So whoever used one of these needed to make damned sure their shot lined up, especially if something gets in your face whether its crazed junkie, sadistic legionnaire or a Deathclaw. Six's version of the gun featured a custom bolt meant for increasing its pathetic fire rate. He also added a suppressor to it in those moments where he was far from his target and wanted his death to go quieter. The last modification was the addition of carbon fiber parts that reduced its weight by a good amount. This allowed him to be more flexible with it during running and gunning.

Now that he had reintroduced himself to his weapons. He placed the large weapon back into its strap and looked ahead of himself. He had no idea where he was. Whatever this place was, it was a beauty that absolutely shit all over the radiated wasteland he had come to know and love (hate).

You would be hard pressed to find a single person who even knew the many variations of trees that littered the old world before the atomic bombs fell. When every superpower in the world decided that mass nukes were in order. If he asked any common folk in the Mojave what the words "Deciduous" and "Coniferous" meant, they would stare at him as if he had grown an extra leg. While he didn't memorize or remember mostly any of the specific kind, he knew the general category of which they belonged in thanks to the upward nature and triangular green shape that the latter formed into. That insignificant knowledge was nothing when compared to the technological regression that fell over the world, but he wouldn't dwell on that now because, as it currently stands, he was entirely lost.

While the peaceful forest was a sight to behold, he was wary. After all, the last memory he had was of sitting down in a plain old chair in front of a not so plain terminal. The computer in question appeared similar to any old terminal found in the wasteland. This one in particular was a lot more… sleek and refined despite it being twice the size of the others. The final detail going through his mind was of him booting up the device and staring at the screen in anticipation and ending there.

Dwelling on something like that would have to wait until he figured out just where exactly he was first. So his first logical thought and course of action would be to scale any of the nearby trees to look beyond in search for some sign of civilization. Six bent his knees and leapt into the air and caught hold of a thirty foot tall tree. He picked the sturdiest looking branch to hang from and look around himself. His view still stayed block and the darkness wasn't helping at all. So...

With his free arm and empty hand, he pressed a button on the right side of his helmet.

The pitch black area soon illuminated and the shadowy night turned into something resembling daylight. Outwardly, Six's dull lenses had suddenly flared up in response and emitted a bright red light. If anyone without night vision were around to witness this they would have surely jumped or stopped cold in their tracks and before them would mistake him for a lurking monster waiting for its chance to strike.

Scanning the area around himself once again, he spotted what appeared to be a large structure resembling an area that was oval in shape. From it protruded four flattened spikes that varied in size but stayed around the same in size. Now that he analyzed it further, it reminded Six of the Colosseum used in the Roman Empire he saw in those history books that stood the test of time. If anybody in the Legion were here to see this, they would no doubt start drooling at the awesome sight before them. That is, assuming they weren't over there already.

Maybe ED-E went to look for help while I was unconscious?

The Courier considered that a possibility. He had full confidence in the deceptively strong bot. His opinion of the robot being able to hold his own only strengthened even further after the upgrades the Followers of the Apocalypse. A shiny new powerful weapon along with tougher armor was their reward in aiding that group of people. Ganon was certainly thankful he didn't go for the Brotherhood of Steel instead.

I can't imagine he got into trouble though. We've got a reputation. Word should've spread that I'm never far from him.

He shook his head to clear his mind and gazed in the direction of the auditorium and let go of the tree branch. He landed on the ground without a sound despite all of the items present on him and looked ahead of himself into the shrouded forest. He placed his hand on his left hip holster holding Lucky and began his silent jog through the forest in hopes of locating his friend.

No stick was trampled and snapped. Not a single bush rustled. No creatures made themselves no. There was no sign of life apart from the forest itself to help the deathly silence around Six. In all honesty, there was no natural in this nature. If he had to describe it in one word, then it would have to be "fake". He didn't know what led to that feeling but that's what his instinct was telling him and nine times out of ten it was right. The Courier stopped his jog as he came upon something that only added further to his suspicion.

Sand.

While it was true that the lightly shaded brown grain on the ground ahead of him was found around trees, this particular combination was unnatural. The wrong kind of trees surrounded the countless amount of particles one would find in a scorching hot desert or in a pleasant beach. Six looked up at the towering structure that dwarfed its surroundings.

Something is definitely wrong here but I have no choice but to go over there.

He stepped forward and came into contact with the sand which perfectly emulated the one in the Mojave.

Feeling a little more comfortable on the sand, Six continued his jog but kept his wits about him in case something like a giant radscorpion hiding underneath the ground suddenly emerged and unleashed an attack. His expectations were not met before he came within touching distance to the Colosseum. He glanced over his shoulder and searched for any dangers that might show.

Nothing...

Six surveyed the impressive amphitheater before him and searched for an entrance. Unsurprisingly, the entire wall lacked a door or something akin to that but did have cracks large enough for him to slip through.

Going in announced might make whoever's on the other side hostile. There's gotta be a door…

He nodded his head in agreement to himself and once again jogged around the outline of the Colosseum in hopes of finding of a door. It wasn't until he got halfway around that he came across two large double doors in between the ridiculously large spikes reaching towards the sky.

Just knock. What's the worst that can happen?

The Courier raised his right arm and made a fist. He held it in a 70 degree position in contemplation before slamming the underside of his hand three times with enough strength to guarantee a sound someone must have noticed. He stood there for thirty seconds, a cold wind carrying miniscule sand gently pushed at his duster. Nobody came. He knocked three times again and waited thirty more seconds just like he had done before. Still nothing.

Don't mind if I let myself in then…

The right side of the gate-like door let out an excruciatingly loud and long squeak as he pushed it open. He couldn't help but grit his teeth at the scraping as he continued. When he opened it enough for his head to fit through he dared a peek from behind the darkened object and got his first glance at the inside.

The several layered pristine marble auditorium was a sight to behold. It was insanely large. So big in fact that he was sure the entire army of both the Legion and NCR could sit here. For what purpose this area specifically served, he wasn't sure. If the situation were any different, he'd comb the area in search of lost technology or experimental weapons. He didn't care about money. Never had to. After all, the strongest took from the strong who trampled the weak.

His sight then focused to one of - No... The absolute strangest thing he had ever seen in his life. It didn't compare to the Sierra Madre, The Divide, Big MT, those stranded aliens, the walking eyes, and those cyborg dogs playing poker. In front of him stood three adults, two kids and a giant monster that would make a Deathclaw piss itself.

The first one that caught his attention was the slender-looking male. He stood nearly six foot feet tall. The Courier was able to guess his height thanks to the straightened posture he assumed. He couldn't help but glance down at the armored silver tail with the six sharp spikes sticking out from it.

So it's true what they say. The devil does wear a suit and tie…

He tried to make out the eyes behind the perfectly round glasses obscuring his opticals, but found no success in doing so. He had to give him credit on the suit. The white stripes mixed well with the collared shirt of the same color went along nicely with his red suit. He wasn't sure why the man in front of him wore black leather gloves. He would think about that later.

The second person he looked at was a woman - an appearance that reminded him of a demon. Despite that previous statement she's the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes upon. Her jet-black hair gave off a soft sheen which added even further to her perfectly sculpted face. Even with her two horns and the pair of black wings, she looked like a goddess. Other men would stand in awe and put every effort into wooing her or at least imagine themselves with her. It was only natural.

However, the Courier only grew more wary.

The third person was the towering insect holding his halberd in one hand. To Six, he (assuming it was a male) looked like a cross between an ant and a mantis. His entire exoskeleton looked to be an icy blue. Appropriately enough, sharp icicles stuck out from its four arms and along his tail. On his back were two particularly large and icicles he nearly mistook for gems. He looked to be the toughest of all those here. Six watched him let out a breath of cold air which transformed into a fog before disappearing.

The fourth person appeared to be an extremely pale young girl somewhere in her teens but he knew better than that. Even with her large ribbon placed at the top of her head, he could make out the silver hair tied into a ponytail behind her. Her clothing reminded him of those uppity rich girls he so often found at the strip. The dress that irked him so would give him a headache if he tried to describe it in detail. All he knew was that it was an black/purple evening dress with a heavy skirt with yet another ribbon neatly tied and placed near the hip.

The last two looked nearly identical to each other save for the clothing they wore. The tomboyish girl wore a mostly white gold lined vest, matching her pants, over a scaly-looking red shirt. She wore burly brown gloves with what looked like to be some sort of plate. The other kid standing meekly behind - what Six assumed to be her sister, wore a blue scaly shirt underneath a mostly white blue lined vest along with a skirt matching the color scheme. She wore white gloves unlike her sister and had a short leaf cloak around her neck. He would've considered them a lot more normal were it not for the pointed ears, dark skin and heterochromatic eyes they both had.

It was then the Courier noticed fourteen eyeballs all staring right at him.

Crap… how do I go about this? A simple "hi" won't do here. Screw it…!

"Have any of you guys seen a floating metal ball? It has antennas sticking out from it and only communicates with beeps."

He decided that acting aloof, friendly and completely casual would work out for him.

"Aura… Mare…"

The devil before Six turned his head and slightly tilted it forward to stare at the twin sisters before him. He seemed to be upset at the two siblings. The two elves in question removed their attention from him and to the man in a suit and tie.

"I was under the impression that you both thoroughly searched the Sixth Floor."

Sixth Floor?

The Courier couldn't help but slightly tilted his head like a dog. What were they on about? Sixth Floor obviously refers to this area based on the fact that they associated this place with him and he was scolding them for failing to find him. If what he put together was true then how many of these "floors" were there?

"U-Um we did… but we didn't find anyone like that."

"Demiurge,"

The spiky haired devil turned his head to look at the horned woman behind him and readjusted his glasses.

So that's his name.

"Do you remember what Momonga-sama ordered us to do?"

"But of course."

Demiurge's smile soon became directed towards Six.

...Sama? Isn't that a Japanese honorific? Am I somewhere in Japan? Wait, how the hell can I understand them?! They're definitely speaking it but I don't know a lick of that language!

"As for your question - ah, my apologies. May I know your name?"

"...Courier Six."

Technically, it wasn't a lie.

"Interesting. As I was saying, I'm afraid none of us here have seen the person you're looking for. Regardless, we're under direct orders to capture any intruders within the Great Tomb Of Nazarick."

"So me then."

"Your assumption is correct."

Great.

"So what happens now?"

"That is entirely up to you. Whether you resist or don't doesn't change the outcome."

Cocky. Good.

"Fine then. I surrender."

Six emerged from the door and threw his hands into the air in a show of submission. After he had done so, he noticed everyone's eyes fix themselves on his left arm. More specifically, his Pip-Boy.

"What is that strange object on your arm?"

Everyone knows what a Pip-Boy looks like…

He saw this as a great chance to learn some information.

[Barter 100/75]

"How about an exchange? I'll answer your question if you do the same for one of mine."

Demiurge's tail swayed for a moment as he contemplated the offer before him.

"I agree to your terms."

"This," Six pointed with his right hand still in the air. "Is a Pip-Boy."

The devil stayed silent, as if expecting him to continue.

"Your turn. What country am I in?"

The guardian of the Seventh Floor chuckled as he realized the purposefully vague, yet promised, answer he received. However, it wasn't the only thing he was laughing at.

"I apologize but I don't have an answer for that."

Six scrutinized the man before him. It didn't feel as if he was lying.

"Then… who are you all?"

"I am Demiurge, the Seventh Floor guardian."

Demiurge looked expectantly at his colleagues who all wore looks of wariness and contempt.

"I'm Albedo, the Guardian Overseer."

"Cocytus. Fifth. Floor. Guardian."

"Shalltear Bloodfallen. Guardian of the First, Second and Third Floor."

"Sixth's Floor Guardian, Aura Bella Fiora."

"Also, also the Sixth Floor Guardian… Mare Bello Fiore."

Six remained soundless, an awkward silence reigned among them all until a cough from the devil broke it.

"Well, please stand still for a moment."

After Demiurge had said those words, Six's forearms suddenly felt heavier. He glanced at them and found his entire hands and forearms to be completely covered in a metal he had yet to identify. His arms were forced to make a V-like shape when he lowered them. He tried flexing his hands but found himself unable to do so.

He noticed the demon lady he now identified as Albedo turn her back and place her right hand on her right ear. He could make out some words such as "Prison", "Frozen", and "Cocytus".

"I'm fully aware that you able to break free from these chains. Though, I insist that you don't."

"Don't worry. The last thing I want is a fight."

"That's good to hear. Now if you'll please follow me."

Six did what he said and approached the smiling man whose expression never wavered.

"Momonga-sama."

Suzuki Satoru nearly jumped out of his lavishly and unnecessarily large bed. He had come here not even ten minutes after he had brought the majority of the floor guardian together. He was still coming to terms with the fact that the NPCs in Nazarick thought so highly of him. If he was still human he would've most likely broke down at the tsunami-sized pressure currently enveloping him. He had to keep appearances up lest he break the image that belonged to that of a ruler.

"Albedo, what is it?"

"We've found an intruder in the Sixth Floor and currently have him apprehended."

Someone's already in Nazarick? That's simply impossible, it's way too soon for that.

"Did the intruder identify themselves?"

"Yes. When asked for a name he replied with: Courier Six"

Courier Six on the Sixth Floor. That can't be a coincidence, can it? Is he an NPC he had yet to meet? No, that's not it either. He knew for a fact that all of them were accounted for, even if he had yet to meet them all.

"Shall I send him to the Frozen Prison under Cocytus' watch?"

Could it be? Maybe he's a…

"Momonga-sama?"

"No. Inform all of the Floor Guardians I previously requested to gather in the Throne Room. I wish to personally question him. Do not harm him unless he attacks first. Should anything go awry, I'm counting on all of you to contain him."

"Understood. We will not fail."

The [Message] spell ended there and Momonga was alone once again. He let out a sigh, despite his lack of lungs, and flopped down on his bed once again. He suddenly summoned a simple notepad along with a pencil.

I need to memorize these questions. I'll have to improvise on the spot too…

The pressure on him only increased even more.

The Courier stood in front of yet another ridiculously large double door. This one in particular seemed to bear some more significance. He assumed this because of two beings sketched on the metal. On the left side of it sat what looked like a demon beckoning the being on the other side with a curled finger. On the right stood an angel with its wings shielding its body. It was obvious that she wanted nothing to do with the other being next to her.

Next thing he knew, the door began to slowly open outward, revealing tiny traces of heavenly blue light before it settled into a normal hue. The source came from many grand blue crystalline chandelier. It held four lit candles to its side thanks to the decorated bronze metal.

The next thing to draw his attention were the many royal red flags hanging on both sides of the hallway that led to a grandiose throne. Each flag looked nearly identical to another, the only difference being the many varying emblems all with a unique look. One was a sword and shield, another a skull, the other some sort of insect, it went on and on.

The hallway itself oozed regality. The one-two combo of a wide and high room along with the white walls complemented with golden highlights would make anyone stare in awe when first viewing it. When it came to size, it was almost comparable to the Amphitheater.

Six's eyes then wandered to the center.

Is that Obsidian?

In the middle of the Throne Room was the seat meant only for the most powerful of rulers. The chair's backbone nearly touched the ceiling in the shape of an arrow. Behind it were even more decorations he couldn't quite describe but they stood curly and symmetrical with one another. But that's not what caught his attention. It was the robed skeleton sitting on it. The Courier wanted to sigh but it was at this point that he simply didn't care anymore.

Wordlessly, the Floor Guardians he had met before all walked inside with Albedo leading them. Six followed from the center of them all with Cocytus and Shalltear flanking him. He walked along the wide red carpet at the same pace as the beings around him. It was only when he was within twelve feet of the undead guy/gal in front of him that he noticed the Guardians stop. In unison, they all got on one knee and bowed their heads without the need for the skeleton to say anything.

Actually, now that he was this close, he could make out some more details about them. Like almost all skeletons, Momonga wore a constant grin. But unlike other skulls this one had a powerful and sharp chin. His eyes were slanted and a tiny faint red glow came from the pitch black eye sockets. The most curious thing about him was the red orb underneath the center of his ribs. Calling them intimidating would be an understatement. But Six wasn't scared. Only wary.

He suddenly felt everyone's eyes on himself.

"You should be kneeling before the Supreme One."

Although Albedo's voice was tender, there was an underlying threat of violence within it.

"It's fine, Albedo."

The skeleton's voice confirmed his sex for Six.

"So you are the intruder. Let me be frank, I'm going to ask you questions that I expect to be answered honestly. If you lie to me. I will kill you on the spot."

"I've got nothing to hide."

Ains made a note of his casual demeanor.

"But before we start… ah, Demiurge, please remove the restraints."

A second later, the item covering his hands disappeared right before him. The Courier looked down at his hands and flexed them.

"Take off your helmet. I want to see who I'm talking to."

Without replying, the armored man reached to the side of his helmet and pressed the button responsible for turning his night vision on and off. His glowing red lenses dulled into the normal washed out red. He then moved his hands underneath the helmet covering his entire head and undid the material keeping it latched onto him. He lifted his helmet and revealed his face to all those around him.

His voice didn't match his face at all.

His low, casual, yet distant, tone didn't add up to the baby face presented before him. His brown short amateurly haircut that refused to stay slicked back along with the cleanly shaven face didn't help alleviate that. What did help in subtracting from that look was dark circles under his eyes and the scars on the side of his head. It was a mark that Momonga hadn't seen before. But that wasn't what interested him.

"Firstly, what's your real name?"

"Mike Oxbig."

Is what he wanted to say, but that was a death sentence. Momonga is the reason he's alive right now. He was sure of it. So he told the truth.

"Wesson Hall."

The Overlord nodded in satisfaction.

"How were you able to infiltrate Nazarick up to the Sixth Floor without being detected?"

The Courier shrugged, "I don't know. All I know is that I woke up in that forest near that Colosseum and found these guys," He gestured towards the Guardians, "and found them grouped up. Last thing I remember was using a terminal in an old rundown building in New Vegas. I booted it up and, well, my memory stops there."

Momonga didn't detect any dishonesty from him.

"Guardians…"

The denizens of Nazarick all raised their heads to look up at their master.

"The questions I'm about to ask Hall might not make sense to you… If my guess is correct, then this man is also a PLAYER."

A wave of shock suddenly dawned on the NPCs.

"What guild were you a part of?"

"I never was in one. I just simply wandered around for fun."

"That sounds incredibly risky."

Six shrugged once again, "It worked out for me."

"...You must be an American, right?"

Even though he's speaking english I can still understand him. Momonga thought to himself.

"Yeah. I'm for good ol' U.S. of A."

"Are you human? Or perhaps a Heteromorph?"

"Human. As far as I'm aware, at least."

"Does the word YGGDRASIL mean anything to you?"

"No I don't… actually, yeah. It does…? What the hell?" He mumbled underneath to himself.

I'm lost now. Does he or does he not know what that is? It's not a coincidence we found him inside of Nazarick all by himself. Maybe…

"Perhaps it's too soon to say, but I believe you have some form of memory loss."

Six looked at Momonga and made it clear that he was pondering something in his head.

"And I believe it has something to do with that scar on your head."

The Courier reached for the nasty mark on his head and gently rubbed it.

"Yeah, I got shot in the head twice. Point blank too but that only happened a year before I came here. All I remember is finding and booting up a fancy computer and my memory ending there."

What? He got shot in the head? In real life? It's not too strange that he modeled his character after himself, especially if you're the good looking kind. Still… just what kind of lives do Americans live?!

"That only reinforces my theory further. Now…" Momonga continued his line of questioning, "What's that on your left arm? Elaborate on it as much as you can."

"That's a Pip-Boy. The 'Pip' stands for Personal Information Processor. It monitors my vitals, comes with a geiger counter, maps out unexplored areas, stores notes, and varying forms of information that have their own use. It also comes with a light that illuminates the area in a green glow and a built in radio. It uses a sturdy biometric lock to keep it on me at all times. It can also act as a shield. And… that's all I can think of right now."

Momonga nodded his head slowly. He had a few more things to say.

"While I don't believe you mean any harm to Nazarick, I can't be sure that you will stay that way in future. I need some goodwill. Assurance that you won't be able to harm us."

He interlocked his fingers and leaned forward.

"Can you prove that to me?"

Six stood there for a moment and began racking his brain for an answer. It was then that he remembered three certain pineapples within his sack.

"I think I can. It's in my bag." He pointed behind and down to the object. "Can I show it to you?"

"...You may, however…" Momonga's eyes lit up, "Expect no mercy if you try to harm us."

Six stared at him for a moment and simply went "Okay." before reaching into his bag. After a few seconds of fishing. He drew two items that Momonga immediately recognized.

"That's…!" He stood up from his throne and focused his fiery red dots of light on the item in front of him.

In his hand was a bouquet of three distinct white orbs embroidered in golden decorations. Horizontally down through the middle, they bore multi-colored gems surrounded in silver metal. At the top lay a golden cross held upright by a purple gem. At the center, a royal blue metal glowed in anticipation as if waiting to be.

"A World Class item…! Where did you find this?!"

Six was almost taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor.

"In a crate. It was guarded by the biggest lizard I had ever seen. It breathed fire too… anyway, here."

The Courier, with an underhand toss, threw the deadly bouquet at the Overlord without a second thought. Momonga deftly caught it in one hand and raised it in front of his face. After studying the object for a few seconds, a purplish void appeared to his left. He moved his hand inside of the strange phenomenon and withdrew it, coming back empty handed.

"The Holy Hand Grenades… it's a world class item capable of ignoring all defense and resistances of anything non-humanoid. It has an insane blast radius and capable of totally annihilating anything that isn't human. If you really wanted to, you could've used it against the NPC's and killed them all - save for Aura, Mare and a few select others... But that would still leave Nazarick devastated. The fact that you even gave it to me…"

Yeah… he's definitely friendly. In all honesty, it's a miracle he didn't attack anyone on sight. But still, I have to take precautions.

"You have two choices you right now."

Momonga forced himself to adopt a serious tone.

"Because you've been very cooperative, I can let you outside of Nazarick and send you on your way as if none of this ever happened. However, if you choose this option, I'll have to alter and wipe some of your memories. I can't have you wandering the world with the knowledge that Nazarick and its denizens exists."

"...What's the other option?"

Momonga leaned forward.

"Become an ally of our guild - Ainz Ooal Gown… The Great Tomb of Nazarick is currently caught in an unknown situation. Any and all help to us is desperately needed. I would elaborate further on this, but I don't want to waste my breath if you choose the former scenario. So…"

The Supreme One, the one who stands above all others, emanated an insane pressure on Wesson Hall. His intense stare forcing a quick answer out from the Courier.

"I'll go with Option B."

No sooner had these words left his mouth that Momonga leaned back on his throne.

"What do you prefer to go by?"

It was an unexpected question but Wesson answered it nonetheless.

"Courier Six. Or any shortened version of that."

His jaw suddenly lowered and a booming voice soon came from him.

"Guardians! Hear my decree! It is my will that I declare Courier Six to be an ally of Ainz Ooal Gown. You will treat him with the appropriate amount of respect shown to your fellow comrades. Make sure that this info is passed down to all of the others in Nazarick!"

""Yes! Momonga-sama!""

A chorus of agreement immediately followed afterward.

"Then that's settled. You may all return to your duties."

The skeleton turned to look at the human before him.

"We have much to discuss."

Courier Six sat alone in the middle of a table with a spotless white drape nearly touching the floor. Even if it did, that would not have been a problem since the checkered floor itself was also pristine. He didn't feel too bad about walking into the cafeteria with his dirtied armor and boots. Sure, the "Homunculus Maids", as Momonga had referred to the group, were maids meant for cleaning and other duties like that but he still felt guilty for adding to their workload.

At the top of the table lay not the food he carried in his bag. Instead, it was meat, vegetables, bread, unfamiliar sauces, and a mug containing purified water. All of it lay neatly arranged on a silver rectangular dining plate. It was clean to the point where he could see his own reflection. To his right lay a standardized set of flatware. Two silver forks that had one smaller than the other. Two equally clean spoons with the same story and a lone knife sharp enough to cut through any meat that might come his way.

In order to properly commence his meal he needed to remove three items first. He started by undoing the straps locking his elite riot gear helmet in place. He took it off and placed it across from his tray. He then went to work on his gloved hands. He reached for the one on the left first and removed it. He lay it to the opposite side of the utensils and finished by removing the other glove previously on his right. He also placed it atop of the other glove.

He was about to reach for his utensils before he felt many eyes weighing on his back. If his bag wasn't hung on the soft green chair, he might've leaned forward underneath all of the pressure. He turned his head and quickly scanned all of the maids that had suddenly stop to look at him. Although, as soon as he made eye contact with any of them, they immediately looked away.

Why are they staring? Could it be that they're upset about some stranger suddenly showing up to their downtime? Annoying...

"You all got something to say? Or can I start eating?"

The normal quiet suddenly turned to an uncomfortable silence.

Damn. That's not how I wanted those words to come out. I sounded like an asshole.

"I apologize for the unwarranted staring, they are simply curious about you ~wan."

Six turned his head to face the voice coming from his left.

Next to him now stood what he assumed to be the Head Maid of Nazarick. Of course, the first thing he couldn't help notice was her literal dogface. He didn't know to which breed it belonged to, but she had a long snout with a gnarly scar going down the center of her face. For some reason, she had two flaps covering her corresponding eyes. When it came to the rest of her body, he would've mistaken her for a very alluring lady.

"Wan" what does...? Oh whatever…!

"...I see. Sorry for sounding like a douchebag earlier." He looked at the maids from before as he said that last part.

"Anyway, I didn't catch your name."

"I am Pestonya Shortcake Wanko. It is a pleasure to meet you, Courier-sama."

"You already know mine?"

"...Wan. Yes, news travels very quickly in Nazarick."

"So I've noticed… also, drop the honorific stuff. It makes me uncomfortable. I'm like any other person here, okay? Just call me Six or Courier."

"If that is what you wish ~wan."

Six nodded and added a "Thanks." to go along with it.

"Now, if you'll excuse me..."

Pestonya walked away as Six began eating.

Six grabbed the larger fork with his left hand and used the other to clutch a knife. He stabbed at the delectable meat and began cutting a portion away from him. Once that was done, he then penetrated the sliced meat and raised it towards his mouth before biting down.

Tears threatened to leak from his eyes as the indescribably heavenly taste registered on his tongue. He had never tasted something so good in his life. It was only when he was halfway into finishing his meal that he couldn't hold back anymore. A river began flowing from his eyes and stained both of his cheeks. He had never felt so goddamn happy in his life. His soft weeping did not go unnoticed by the others in the area. They could not help but stare at the crying man trying his hardest to hold it all back.

"Is something the matter ~wan?"

Pestonya was once again at Six's side. Her worried became evident to all of those around him.

"...ha ha… nothing's wrong." A genuine smile escaped from him. "It's just so damn good… All I've ever eaten was food that tasted like dirt or like literal shit. Compared to this... it's... it's..."

His chuckling mingled even further with those of sobs.

"There, there…"

Next thing he knew, Pestonya half-forced him to lean his head towards her chest. He felt something soft press against his left cheek. Under any other circumstances, he might have shoved her away from him if she had tried something like that. But right now, he had his moment of weakness. This went on for a few minutes as the motherly lady comforted him - with everyone watching in awe.

After his emotions had passed, Six removed himself from the Head Maid's bosom and collected himself as he realised what had just happened. An overwhelming amount of shame flowed through him. But despite that…

"Thank you… but… you didn't have to do that."

"...Wan. That is nonsense. It is only natural."

Six simply nodded and wiped away any remaining tears still present on his face. He looked back down at his food and decided that he had enough.

"Sorry, but I think I'm done for now. Tell the chef that the food is amazing."

He chuckled and stood up from his seat. He re-equipped his gloves and placed his helmet back on. He removed his bag from the chair and placed on his back, his weapons moving naturally to the force he exerted.

"Thanks again."

He waved goodbye and left the area.

Six began messing with the controls on his Pip-Boy. What he did first was press the button on the bottom right with the label DATA above it. He switched over to the MISC section and began looking at the songs he had copied and saved onto his trusty tool. His eyes landed on the words "Paganini - La Campanella" and he selected it.

Immediately, the song he had chosen began to play at a low to mid volume appropriate for the currently empty hall he walked on. He had a particular destination in mind when it came to the Ninth or Tenth Floor which is where he was currently limited to be at. From what Momonga had told him the Ninth Floor had many facilities such as communal baths, grocery stores, fitness and salons, clothing stores, and, of course, the cafeteria he was just in.

When it came to the Tenth Floor he didn't really want to be there. Not because he felt it would be rude, but because that was the place Albedo guarded. When he and Momonga were speaking to one another she plastered that fake and warm smile trying to hide whatever ill will she harbored towards him. Then again, she probably didn't trust him. He wouldn't blame her if that was the case. He wouldn't trust himself either.

C'mon, where is it?

What would a bored, waiting, wastelander do in his spare time? Play a hand of Caravan, mingle with strangers, maintain their equipment, or take the opportunity to rest? Six decided that at this moment, he would drink. He found exactly what he was looking for and entered the Bar Momonga had mentioned.

"Don't think I'll give you leeway because you're new."

The place Six had entered radiated a sort of strange calmness. Everything about it screamed "classy!". Every table around him had a single finely crafted light bulb inside of the purple ceiling that dimly lit up all of the tables near him. Behind the bar counter stood a man with a mushroom for a head. He wore a tuxedo fitting of the area around him.

"Turn that music off."

Six did as he said and wordlessly approached the man before him. He didn't think pissing the guy off was a good idea since mushroom-head over there is the one holding the drinks hostage. He took a seat on one of the eight chairs and looked up at the bartender. It was then that he noticed the jazz music playing softly. He hadn't noticed on account of his noisy Pip-Boy.

"Much better. So, what will you have?"

"Something with a good kick. Other than that, I don't really care."

"Coming right up, Courier-sama."

Six nearly groaned in annoyance after that sentence.

"Stop with the honorifics. I hate it."

"It would be disrespectful to address my first customer and Nazarick's guest in such a way."

"But the only one who would actually care is me. You're not actually offending anybody."

"...That's a fair point. Alright, Courier it is then."

"Thanks."

The Sous-chef presented a cocktail with a strange deep blue coloring. At the center of the ice-filled cup lay a tiny metal pike with impaled berries. Clinging to the cup was a small piece of lime. He removed his helmet and placed it on the empty seat next to him. Six then reached for both the lime and the steely stick and did what he usually did with cocktails. He squeezed the lime directly onto the glass and ate the berries in a single swipe across his mouth.

In one move, he poured the entire glass into his mouth and swallowed it without a problem.

"...Damn, that's good. I think I might cry again."

"It's only a cocktail."

The Courier let out a bitter chuckle.

"You would cry too if all you ever drank your whole life was less than half-assed liquor... Oh, crap..."

"What is it?"

"I don't have any money on me… unless... do you accept bottle caps?"

Six couldn't read this guy's facial expression, but he could feel his "are you for real" stare right now.

"Even if you had our currency, it wouldn't matter. Everything in Nazarick is free."

Six kept his gaze on the bartender.

"Oh. Well, if I get into any money problems, I'll just blame it on you."

"Hilarious."

Six chuckled again and rose from his seat.

"Thanks for the drink. I'll definitely come back here again."

He wasn't thankful and that last part was a lie.

Sous-chef let out a hum of acknowledgement and watched the man equip his helmet as he left his small little bar. He heard music start up once again and fade as Six walked further down the halls.

There wasn't even alcohol in that cocktail.

The bartender thought to himself as he withdrew the glass cup.

LINE HERE

I can't believe that guy served me a drink like that. I could've made something better with Gecko piss.

Six's frown remained hidden underneath his helm as he passed by working butlers and maids. He didn't know why, but it was only now that he noticed that even though they wore the same uniforms, all of them had different colored ribbons below the fully buttoned collars. All of them wore their usual happy-go-lucky smiles he only saw on a few individuals back in the Mojave. The majority of them were deranged. Or all of them deranged depending on your point of view.

It was only now that he was actually getting a better look at the strangely masked manservants near them. The mask reminded him of some of the more kinky stuff he would see at the Atomic Wrangler. He was suddenly reminded of a certain female ghoul. His eyes wandered towards the ladies on cleaning duty.

"Ah, Courier Six-sama."

He stopped walking after he hearing a male's voice. He turned his head away from the maids and looked at the butlers suddenly standing in a rigid position.

"...Er, which one of you is talking to me."

"I am."

The voice came from below him. Six leaned his head forward and finally found the one talking to him.

A penguin stood behind one of the servants and emerged from his legs. The bird stood abnormally big - for a penguin. He rocked curled blonde hair on the sides at the top of his head. On his white belly was more blonde hair pinned to his bowtie. Even his tail with blonde tips seemed unnecessarily groomed.

What kind of penguin is he? He doesn't look like the ones I've seen in the pre-war books.

"My bad, I didn't see you there."

"It's quite alright. Carry me."

Huh?

A different manservant bent his knee and allowed for the penguin to leap into his open arms before he caught him.

Oh. I thought he was talking to me…

"And you are…?"

"Eclair Ecleir Eicler. At your service."

Eh. Weird and confusing. I need to shorten it.

"...Is it alright if I call you Triple E?"

Triple E placed his flapper on his beak in a cutesy manner.

"I'll allow it."

Good.

"However,"

Oh no...

"Once I rule the Great Tomb of Nazarick, you will refer to me as the Supreme One."

"...When you rule Nazarick?"

Eclair nodded and hobbled around and flapped his wings in excitement.

"Rightly so. The day will come when I shall overthrow Momonga-sama and sit upon the Throne Of Kings."

Is he allowed to say stuff like that? I should ask the skeleton.

"Alright, it's a deal. Keep working hard at… whatever it is that you do. I'm sure you'll get there one day."

Six gave him a half-assed wave and continued onward without looking back. Once he reached what he believed to Eclair's hearing range, he let out a sigh and continued onwards.

I should handle this now…

Shortly when he had left the cafeteria after he had cried his eyes out in front of all those women, he had felt invisible eyes constantly fixed him. He even knew where they stood and walked on when they trailed him. He had originally gone to the bar in hopes of finding empty and confronting the person there but the Mushroom-head bartender just so happened to be there. So right now…

Here's good.

Six found the convenience store after a minute of walking. He found the building near the nail salon and approached the off-white entrance. He purposefully pulled both of the one-way glass double doors and entered the area. There wasn't anyone here. Despite being empty, the four rows contained everyday items like junk food, cleaning items, drinks, frozen food in refrigerated containers. Behind the counter lay varying packs of brandless cigarettes and a coffee machine atop of a table.

But that's not what he was looking for. He scanned the place and found a lone blue door at the back end of the store. At the center, a white sign with a vertical bar in between two humanoid white figures. On the left side is a male stick figure. On the right stood what he assumed was the female because of the skirt.

He entered it and approached the long pristine white bar holding four sinks. Behind him were the stalls matching the number of faucets. He removed his gloves and helmet and placed it near the sink. He pulled the lever on the right and leaned his head forward. Without any care, he gathered a large amount of water into his hands and splashed the cold liquid onto his face. He repeated the process eight times before he stopped. He looked to his right and found a hand towel dispenser bolted on the marble wall. He approached it and confiscated a single sheet. He wiped the water away from his face and tossed the crumpled up brown paper into a nearby trash can.

"How long do you plan on following me?"

His voice bounced around the walls, his lowered voice sounding like a blare. The moment his headgear obscured his vision, a brown-skinned woman in a maid's uniform suddenly appeared before him.

Compared to the Homunculus maids, her outfit displayed a lot more freedom. Her uniform consisted of a short sleeve top that nearly connected to the ridiculously long gloves that only covered the back side of her hand in a triangular shape. On her left side, a long slit revealed her thigh high white stockings. Her long red hair split off into two different directions thanks to the braids.

His only concern right now was her strange scepter-like weapon and the fake smile on her face.

"Uh oh~ you caught me! Momonga-sama said you would ~su."

Huh? Did the undead guy send her?

"He sent you?"

The beautiful lady energetically nodded her head and let out an "Mm hm!"

"Alright. What for?"

"To deliver a message to you. He wants to meet with you in the Throne Room as soon as possible ~su."

Me, a Courier, receiving a message. Ironic. Wait…

"...Why did you wait until now to tell me?"

The maid in front of him assumed an attitude of aloofness, tilting her head similar to that of a dog's.

"I knew you were tailing me after I had left the Cafeteria. You might've been invisible but I knew exactly where you stood."

I guess fighting all those Nightkin paid off… that and (not to toot my own horn) my beyond perfect perception.

"...So why did you follow me around instead of letting me know as soon as you were able?"

She became silent.

Speech [100/55]

"C'mon just tell me. I won't get mad. Promise."

The maid considered his words before responding with:

[Success] "Okay! Truth is, I was hoping to scare you. I wanted to see what kind of funny face you would make."

"So you were just messing around. I see… well, I'll be on my way then..."

Six walked past her and exited the bathroom. He left the empty convenience store and began backtracking to the Throne Room.

"Wait! I'm supposed to follow you!"

He stopped walking and turned his body to face the red-head.

"Fine. If those are your orders."

He turned back around and began fiddling with his Pip-Boy.

"By the way, I'm Lupusregina Beta!"

Hold on… that's Latin. If I remember correctly...

"Your name's Wolf Queen?"

Lupusregina let out a "Huh?" and tilted her head again.

"Lupus Regina. It's Latin. It means 'Wolf Queen'…You didn't know that?"

She shook her head in response. Six kept his gaze on her for a moment before turning back to his Pip-Boy in search of a new song.

"...So what's your name?"

He rotated his skull once more.

"Didn't your superiors tell you?"

"They did but…" She placed her right hand on her noggin, closed her right eye and stuck her tongue out. "I forgot!"

In amusement, he expelled a burst of air from his nose.

"At least you're honest, sort of. My name's Courier Six."

"Nice to meet ya!"

"Likewise."

Lupusregina suddenly realised something, her brows slightly furrowing after doing so.

"What did you mean when you said I'm 'sort of' honest?"

Boops and beeps came from the Pip-Boy. He didn't bother looking at the maid following him.

"Your face. That is, the smile and cheery demeanor. It's fake."

Six was never the type of person to trust anyone smiling or/and who always seemed happy. Especially in the wasteland. There are plenty of people looking to screw you over.

"No it isn't!"

"If you say so."

He didn't see it, but the Wolf Queen pouted her cheeks and crossed her arms.

Sitting in a manner befitting that of a ruler, he who reigned above all of the 41 Supreme Beings, the Guild Master of Ainz Ooal Gown, moved his red glowing orbs to the center of the room. He watched the doors leading to the Throne of Kings slowly open inward. From it emerged three beings, two of which he was familiar with. Albedo and Lupusregina flanked Courier Six A.K.A. Wesson Hall. Their actions weren't something they had decided on their own. He had ordered them to always position themselves in an advantageous spot when it came to the stranger before them. He was sure that Hall took notice of this, but his understanding and casual attitude made sure he wasn't ever upset. Of course, he could just be faking it. Momonga wouldn't know. He couldn't read people.

Momonga glanced down and to his left. There stood the True Vampire, Shalltear Bloodfallen. Nearly half an hour ago he had received a sudden {Message} from her explaining what she had found near the entrance on the Third Floor. A passive metal floating eye with antenna sticking out from its head along with a strange object at the bottom center. His immediate conclusion is that this is the "ED-E" Hall spoke of. He ordered her to bring the thing to the Throne Room as soon as possible, telling her not to harm it, but bring it by force if it resists.

Momonga watched all but Hall get on one knee and bow their heads.

"Rise." He commanded.

In unison, the NPC's stood and turned their full attention to him.

"Wesson Hall..."

"What's up, man?"

Albedo's eyes narrowed and her smile quickly turned around into a frown.

"Such disresp-"

"Albedo." Was all Momonga had to say to silence her. She bowed her head apologetically, though her frown never left.

"I believe I've found what you're looking for."

"...Do you mean…?"

Momonga nodded as soon as he had done so, an unforgettable floating eyebot appeared before Six. He had emerged from behind the Throne Of Kings and slowly hovered on over to Wesson. The man in the riot gear set happily closed the distance and made first contact with a hug.

"I've fuckin' missed ya, bud! Holy shit!" He twirled in place with ED-E still in his arm before extending them to get a better look at him. His overjoyed laughter nearly defeaned the equally pleased beeps and boops coming from floating eye. Six suddenly stopped and forcefully began to rotate ED-E.

"You're not hurt are you? Everything feel alright? You don't feel like anything's off right?"

Reassuring happy beeps

"Are you sure? 95% sure?"

Self-assured beeps

"Okay. Just making sure."

Six let go and turned to Momonga and suddenly bowed.

"Thank you so much. I'll make sure to repay the debt I owe you."

"You owe me nothing. Shalltear found him wandering throughout the second floor."

Six stopped bowing and shook his head.

"No, I do owe you. You promised you would help me find him and you did."

Six patted the top of ED-E affectionately.

"You're a man of your word and so am I. Let me know if you want something done. I don't care what it is. It'll get done. This I promise."

"...If that is how you feel. I shall summon you when the need arises. Rest for now. You are only human after all. Ah, speaking of which…"

Six focused all of his attention back to the Overlord.

"For obvious reasons, I cannot allow you to make your residency in any of the 41 Supreme Being's rooms."

Six nodded in agreement and said "Of course."

"As such, the only other option is to have you and ED-E move in with the Pleiades."

"We're gonna be roommates?!"

Lupusregina, for some reason, couldn't believe what she was hearing. That was one thing she and Six had in common. From what he had been told, the Pleiades Six Stars all inhabited the large room

"...Uh, i-is that really a good idea? Are they okay with that? I can just sleep on the halls on the Ninth Floor-"

"Is your opinion of Nazarick that low? Do you truly think we would force guests into such unfavorable conditions?"

Momonga's glowing red eyes shone brightly in response to whatever emotions he was feeling. The Courier didn't miss it.

"Er, well no, of course not…"

"Then you will rest there. You know where it is."

The skeleton dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

"Do try and get along."

"...Right. Thanks again. Come on, ED-E"

The Duraframe Eyebot followed his partner out of the Throne Room and beyond to their new and already occupied quarters. The doors closed of their volition and made a resenote clunking noise as it closed.

"Momonga-sama, may I ask a question?"

Albedo wore a serious look on her face also filled with confusion.

"You may."

"Why are you so lenient with him? Even if he is a PLAYER, one should know about proper etiquette when it comes to addressing their superiors. If thoroughly reprimanded, I'm confident he wouldn't address you informally."

Momonga stayed silent before leaning back on the throne.

"...Hall is a special case. He and I do not hail from the same lands. He is what we Supreme Beings would call an 'American'. To put it simply, he is a foreigner. A clash of cultures is sure to ensue. It is something unavoidable, so I cannot blame him he simply can't help."

Momonga let out an almost inaudible chuckle.

"I certainly didn't expect him to bow to me just now. He went out of his way to try and fit in more here. Is there no greater respect from someone who tries to adopt the traditions of others?"

The NPC's still present didn't refute him.

"I'm sure you're also wondering as to why I ordered him to reside with the Pleiades."

"To spy on him!"

It was Lupusregina who had spoken up.

"That is correct. As it currently stands, I do not fully trust him. In the future he may not be so agreeable. Precautions must be taken."

"Don't worry, Momonga-sama! You can count on us!"

"...Umu, I look forward to it."

"As expected of the Supreme One! Your foresight is impeccable!"

"R-right... Ah, by the way, Shalltear…"

"Yes?"

"Good work today."

The vampire's face lit up in pure joy.

"Ah… to receive such praise... I can already feel myself getting warm…"

Albedo immediately released her suffocating aura.

"Since there is nothing more. I believe we should all return to our previous duties."

Shalltear scowled at Albedo who only returned a sickening smile. It wasn't a moment later that Momonga heard their bickering but simply chose to ignore it.

So much happened today... I'm really tired.

Author's Note: For those who want to know or are curious, Courier Six has the following perks:

Rapid Reload, Run N Gun, Bloody Mess, Gunslinger, Implant GRX (Both Ranks), Toughness (Both Ranks), Quick Draw, Finesse, Piercing Strike, Action Boy (Both Ranks), Unstoppable Force, Better Criticals, Silent Running, Adamantium Skeleton, Slayer, Ninja, Hand Loader, Concentrated Fire, Stone Wall, Chemist, Hit The Deck, Just Lucky I'm Alive.

Other Perks:

Lord Death, Divide Survivor, Tough Guy, Animal Control, Bug Stomper, Sub-Dermal Armor, Monocyte Breeder, Reinforced Spine, Big Brained, Cardiac Arrest, Melee Hacker, Day Tripper, All S.P.E.C.I.A.L Implants, Scribe Counter, Ranger Takedown, Camel Of The Mojave, Legion Assault, Elijah's Ramblings,Power Armor Training, Camarader-E (Rank 5), Machine Head, Mutant Massacre, Beautiful Beatdown, Set Lasers For Fun.

For those who want to hear an Author ramble:

This new story of mine was something I just wanted to release from my head, get it down on digital paper, and show it to others because, otherwise, what's the point in typing it all up in the first place? In all honesty, I don't have a goal in mind with this. There's no story mapped out in my mind, it was all on a whim. Still, it was fun. That's all. Have a great day.

Sincerely,

ComeInMeBro

P.S. I don't mind suggestions for stories.