A/N: So thanks for waiting guys. Otter Seastar, thanks for the review. Also, TypewritingFangirl, why wouldn't you trust Celera? *grins* So, this is the second part of this whole series.

"Well, if we're leaving, I'll be staying behind," Monday said. "I can't go and leave Celera behind."

"Take her with you then," Tuesday said.

"I'm afraid not," Lady Falmouth said. "The viruses would corrupt her program much more easily than mine."

"But we can't split up!" Friday said.

"Sure we can," Sunday said. "And anyway, he'd probably just really slow us down."

"But what if he gets too attached to that simulation?" Saturday asked.

"What do you care?" Friday asked.

"I'm just trying to look out for him!" Saturday said.

"You're not my mom!" Monday retorted.

And so, Monday left to stay with Celera back in town while the rest of them decided to go tackle the virus.

The portal that Lady Falmouth had made was nothing but a huge blue orb, and the moment that each of the Days touched it, they were whisked away.

Once they landed, there was no record or remain of the blue orb. All that was there was clean, blue sky and what looked like an endless plain extending in all directions.

Except of course, for a patch about one mile long and wide, which was completely dead. It was almost comical about how quickly it turned up, as if someone had deliberately sliced away a part of the land and put in something else there.

Sunday felt the soil under his fingers. "This is good farm soil."

The other Days groaned. Even now, Sunday couldn't get his mind off farming. Or gardening. It was a good thing that all of them had made a pact with each other to never let Sunday know of the game known as Farmville, otherwise he would have forced them all to play with him and send him stuff and whatnot, and it was already inconvenient enough with all the other stuff he forced them to put up with.

And so, they had all agreed to keep Farmville a secret from Lord Sunday on pain of exile from the other Days.

Suddenly, there was a noise like an elephant's trumpet, and a few ruffians appeared literally out of thin air and moved to decapitate Lord Sunday.

They were dead before they knew what had hit them.

"Let's go further in," Wednesday said. "If there is a Nithling, it will probably be at the center of the square."

"But we should wait first," Saturday complained. "This is probably the boss level here. So the enemies will be harder-"

"Yeah," Sunday said while rolling his eyes. "Because the enemies up till now have been so difficult to deal with."

And so they all marched on towards the center of the square.

They could soon see what looked like a huge spiral tower jutting out of the ground, which seemed to be the source of all the activity. It was also spewing out black clouds, probably causing the strange weather patterns outside.

"This should be easy," Sir Thursday said.

Unfortunately, it was at this point that they would find out that they had been overconfident for once.

It wasn't that the enemies were weak. It was just that there were so many of them. Even the best of soldiers can be outnumbered. Not to mention the fact that they were all unarmed. Sir Thursday's stick broke after a while, and for some reason they couldn't pick up the weapons their enemies dropped. Saturday's spells weren't working properly.

That's why she was the first one to fall. A ruffian cut off her head, and then slashed open her heart.

That wouldn't have normally been a problem, but for some reason the axe he had been wielding had been on fire.

One by one, the others as well, fell. [Okay, that rhymed but wasn't meant too.]

Saturday stared at the sky hopelessly as she was defeated. 'I'm going to end up in a comatose state for the rest of time!'

And then there was nothing.

And then, suddenly, there was something again. She was standing in the middle of a forest, and she took a good look around and saw that this was the same forest that they had started the game out in.

Pretty soon, Wednesday came. And then Friday, then Tuesday, then Thursday, and finally Sunday as well.

"What happened?" Sunday asked.

"We died in the game," Friday said.

"Then why wasn't our data deleted?" Saturday asked.

"Oh," Friday said. "That only happens to the other CPUs. If we die we get sent back to our last save point with half our gold and some items, which I guess is this since we never saved…"

Saturday looked ready to strangle her. "Why didn't you tell us this before! I was sure that we were finished!"

"So this means we can keep trying over and over?" Sunday asked.

"Um, not really," Friday said. "We can, but if that Nithling grows too powerful, it will probably replicate itself into the initial programming and could then disable the function for us to respawn. But that shouldn't happen for a… um… while?"

"Whatever," Saturday said. "As I had said before, we need to farm."

Thursday raised an eyebrow. "I thought that was Sunday's thing."

"Not actually farm, video-game farming, which means doing nothing but gathering experience and gold," Saturday retorted. "Which we need to get rid of this Nithling."

Sunday didn't want to agree with Saturday, but he knew that she was at least partially right, so he decided to take all credit for it. "So it seems that now I must order you all, as my soldiers, to wait and gather gold while we prepare our strategy for our next siege."

"Don't talk about it like it was all your idea!" Saturday said. The other Days rolled their eyes.

"By the way, what do we have left?" Friday asked. All of the Days had only half of their gold, and only some had their plots of land left.

"We should try to visit Monday," Wednesday said. "He probably has all of his stuff with him."

They all agreed, and anyway they thought that they would need another Morrow Day to try and successfully take the Nithling this time.

The town looked pretty much the same as it always had. Only thing was that they couldn't see Monday anywhere, and it took an entire half hour for the Lords and Ladies of the Universe to realize that they could have just asked someone about it.

Once they did that, they were directed to some part of town they had not been to before, and was nearly unrecognizable now.

There was a huge building, and it was an understatement to say that it was magnificent. It was a huge white mansion, with graceful arches and a grandiose garden with fountains spraying crystal clear water here and there. The central path to the mansion was flanked on both sides by trees bearing cherry blossoms, so that they formed a sort of pink flowery roof over the road. Next to the gate, the words MONDAY MANOR were engraved in what looked like gold.

In short, it was like how any of the Days would have liked a house to be.

Wednesday rang the doorbell, and someone dressed up like Sneezer greeted them and asked them their business.

"We're friends of Monday," Wednesday said.

"I see," the butler said, though he seemed unconvinced. He also glared at the Morrow Days as if he thought they were just random people disturbing someone distinguished.

The Morrow Days obviously didn't like this, or the fact that none of the NPCs in the game seemed to have any sense of self-preservation.

Several minutes later, Mister Monday walked out of the mansion wearing a very flamboyant suit. He saw the rest of the Days and ushered them in.

"What is this place?" Sunday asked.

"Well, once you guys left, I decided to use that plot of land I got. Apparently land is pretty valuable here, and Celera and I discovered some seeds to a rather rare plant, and after seven or eight harvest seasons, we pretty much bought out the entire town," Monday said.

"How long have we been gone?" Thursday asked.

"Not long," Monday said. "A week, I think."

"Plants don't grow that fast!" Sunday said.

"Yeah, but this is a video game, and they only take around six or eight hours to harvest, kind of like Farm-" Monday stopped mid-sentence as the Days besides Sunday threw death glares at him. Monday gulped. He had almost mentioned Farmville to Sunday, something that they had agreed to never do.

Sunday, thankfully, had begun admiring some plants in the garden, so this wasn't a problem.

The inside of the place was surprisingly plain, mainly because Monday hadn't had enough time to decorate.

In the dining room, there was a small boy who looked around four years old. Monday and the other Days sat at the table while another servant poured them orange juice and laid out other refreshments.

The small boy was looking at the Days eagerly. "Papa, who are these people?"

"Oh, they're my friends," Monday said.

It took several seconds for that to sink in.

And then, all six of the Days did a spit-take. All at once. It was a picture worthy moment

"Wait, did he just say papa?" Friday asked. "What is he, French?"

"Who cares about that?" Saturday asked. "Is he really your son?"

"Yes," Monday said. "He's mine and Celera's son."

"But children don't grow up that fast," Tuesday said. "And just how did it happen?"

"It works faster in a game," Monday said. "And it's pretty easy. I can show you guys how it happened."

He called Celera in, who was wearing a gown Lady Friday would have killed for, and Monday approached her.

He then pushed a few buttons on a screen. "Here, it says 'Create Child.'" He pressed it, and a small baby appeared in Celera's arms.

"That's way easier than how it happens in real life," Thursday said.

"Uh-huh," Monday said.

The other Days then filled in Monday on how they had essentially been defeated miserably.

Monday frowned. "I can get us armor and stuff, but it looks like rather than that we can go and form an army. We'll need gold though, and more land to house the soldiers. Not to mention armor."

"Where do the soldiers come from?" Thursday asked.

Monday shrugged. "This is a video game. The soldiers are all generic and stuff."

"So we can grow stuff?" Sunday asked.

"Yeah," Monday said. "And you don't even need to physically do any of it! It's just like Farm-" Monday paused as the other Days gave him death stares. Thankfully, Sunday didn't notice this time either.

And so, the Days started what normal video gamers call farming.

They found it to be quite fun. For fifteen minutes, that is.

After that, they learned a truth about gaming that all gamers learn eventually: farming is not fun when you have to keep doing it. And it makes playing the game seem more like a chore than actual playing.

For one thing, it was downright boring farming. It turns out that they never even got to visit their land (whether it even existed was a question even Friday couldn't answer) or touch their produce. They just put seeds and waited for several hours, during which they did practically nothing.

Thursday wanted to do something a bit more constructive and tried talking to the soldiers they were recruiting, but it turns out that they were generic. True, soldiers in the House were Denizens, and they too were generic, but not in this way. Most of his conversations went like this:

"Hello there recruit," Thursday said. The recruit; who Thursday couldn't tell apart from each other because they ALL looked exactly the same, would salute first. It wasn't any army salute that Thursday had seen, rather the guy would stick out three fingers and move his hand away like he was trying to swat away a fly.

"Salutations, sir," the guy would then say.

"So…" Thursday trailed off. "How are preparations going?"

The recruit would then bombard Thursday with a classic NPC list of things to choose from.

"So, what do you like doing?" Thursday would then say, now being reduced to making small talk.

"I like cheese," would be all that the recruit said.

Yes, apparently all the soldiers liked cheese. Or at least they said so. Even though, on the information screen on them, it said that most of them were lactose intolerant. Thursday sighed, he shouldn't have expected much more from something that Friday had made.

The NPCs around town were similar, though talking to them did help while away the time.

Pretty soon, Monday Manor fell into the usual routine that the House was under. Sunday was taking care of the crops, which essentially meant doing nothing, as well as telling Saturday what to do. She was taking care of preparations to launch their assault, and constantly telling Thursday on how he should go and talk to the soldiers. Wednesday would have been ordering their naval fleet if it wasn't for the fact that they didn't have one and had resigned herself to raising fish on her plot of land. Tuesday was hoarding gold through various measures.

The only ones who were acting out of character were Thursday, who wasn't overseeing the army and was instead relaxing, happy to be away from the Will, and Monday, who was spending more time with his wife and child.

His eldest son, for that matter, had managed to somehow turn fourteen within three weeks. He had pretty much gone completely on his father's unnaturally handsome features, except for his eyes that were a strange mix of Celera's and Monday's.

"You look just like your father," Monday once remarked to his son.

"Of course he does," Celera said dotingly while she kissed him. "After all, Monday's child is fair of face." She then took him away, eyes brimming with motherly affection.

"You know none of this is real, right?" Saturday said. "She's showing a wifely and motherly affection towards you and him because she's a program. She understands that you're her husband and that is her son, and logically, one loves both of them, so she's behaving like that based on those things. There is no real emotion here."

"I beg to differ," Monday said.

Saturday sighed. She had no time to argue, she was currently helping Tuesday balance their accounts to make sure that the army had enough funds.

At this point, I bet you're either tired of the small talk and want the assault to begin, or are wondering what Friday was doing. To be honest, none of the Days knew, and when Monday asked Sunday about Friday being missing for several hours each day, Sunday whispered back, "Shh! Don't jinx it!"

And so, within six weeks they were what they assumed to be ready. They had all given themselves the best level of armor and weapons, generally swords or muskets, though Saturday preferred a sorcerous staff instead.

As they readied to approach the Nithling again, Lady Falmouth, and a few NPCs like her who had survived the Nithling's various attacks, joined them and bolstered their ranks.

And so, they marched towards the place where the Nithling was, with Monday giving a teary farewell to his wife and two children, and they rode for three days until they finally reached their destination.

The Nithling had grown more powerful. The square was now ten miles on each side, and not only that, but there were trenches, forts, traps, bastions, and other things that were certainly not there before.

"Hmm," Saturday said. "The scouts report that there are about nine hundred Nithling soldiers guarding that place, while we have a strength of about one thousand and eight hundred together. That can't be right."

"Why not?" Thursday asked.

"Because," Saturday said, "I have never played a strategic war game in which you actually outnumber the opponent, or any strategic game in which you're stronger than the gboss. The boss is always much stronger than you, and takes a lot of time and strategy to defeat. Or at least, generally, if we're not talking about Pokemon."

"Can he really just keep spawning limitless soldiers though?" Sunday asked. "It seems sort of cheap. There must be a limit to how much he can churn out, or a place we can destroy that will stop them from coming. This is a video game, after all."

"It is normal though, to outnumber your enemies in a siege," Thursday said. "Plus, there are obstacles, though they don't look very smartly placed. I could probably draw us a plan…"

Thursday spent several minutes drawing them an outline on how to approach the center of the place, and how best to go around the areas where there were fewer traps.

Getting to the center was uneventful, the ruffians, as expected, behaved like normal Nithlings and posed little threat as they reached the center.

However, instead of a single tower, what they found this time was an entire fortress.

"Ready the cannons!" Thursday shouted.

"We didn't bring them!" Saturday replied.

The Days had had the foresight to purchase some cannons and gunpowder, but had considered them too bulky to transport all the way over there. Sir Thursday snarled.

"Now what do we do?"

"I'd normally just reset," Saturday said. "But this isn't a video game we can keep saving and resetting on. We can have them ordered back to us, with a message sent to Lady Falmouth." Most of the NPCs like Lady Falmouth were camping a few miles away, fearful of their data being corrupted.

"We're in the middle of enemy territory, and it will take days for them to reach us," Thursday said. "I suppose we'll just have to give our assault without them."

"Then again, this might be good practice for you," Friday said. "After all, what if you have to practice a war against someone with no gunpowder?"

"You're saying that some time in the future I'll fight an army with no gunpowder, no tectonic strategy, and also with very few reinforcements?" Thursday asked with a derisive snort.

"Uhh…." Friday said, as if she wasn't sure what she should say.

"Thankfully, we do have some barrels of gunpowder," Wednesday said. "We can make makeshift grenades with them and try to bore a hole in the fortress's wall."

That seemed to be an agreeable strategy for everyone, at least better than trying to scale the walls using ladders or other siege equipment, which would make them vulnerable to enemy soldiers who were probably waiting for them.

After a hole in the wall was promptly made, a new problem began to emerge.

See, one thing that they all had been afraid of was that their own soldiers might become corrupted. That would mean they would either die, or turn against them.

Thing was though, the soldiers in the game were programmed to be very loyal, or so Friday said. They would fight even when clearly outnumbered and outmatched, and in exchange they were all rather generic and dumb, but loyalty was definitely a redeeming factor. Not to mention that their data was stored separate from normal NPCs, which meant that they should have been safe from corruption.

Or at least, that was how the theory went. What they hadn't accounted for was how strong the Nithling was getting.

Some soldiers collapsed, but the bulk of their army was still intact.

"Keep them fighting!" Thursday shouted. "We'll go into the castle and strike at the heart of it. Keep the enemies from crowding around us!"

The hole in the wall, though big, was forming a sort of bottleneck around the area, and also meant that the soldiers who were guarding the fort were busy throwing objects like lighted oil on top of the invaders.

Thursday felt adrenaline running through his blood. This was his proper place, though to be honest, he had always been the one defending the fortress, never before, besides drills, had he been the one trying to take it.

They reached a large wooden door, whose key Saturday found hanging next to it ("Thank the Architect for stupid Nithlings," Saturday said when she saw it.)

As such, they continued, now easily sweeping through the enemies forces with their new weaponry, and with their soldier pawns keeping the bulk of the enemy busy.

"We have to get to the core!" Thursday shouted.

After an hour of running around, they finally chanced upon a room that was the most heavily guarded in the fortress, easily signaling them that this was where they had to go. Their army, by this time, had shrunk to half of its number, but they had no time to worry about that.

A great horde of soldiers awaited them, but they were pushed back. Opening the door to the room was their bigger problem, with Thursday's fists no longer serving them so well against this door, and no key in sight.

"We need a battering ram," Sunday said. "Or another grenade."

"We're almost out of gunpowder," Tuesday said. "And there are no trees here."

Saturday approached the door, and pulled out dozens of pieces of paper. On each of them, she wrote EXPLODE and touched them with her staff.

She backed away, muttered something, and each paper burst into flames with a noise like a firecracker, and there was, later, a hole big enough for one person at a time.

"I was sure you were going to try to find a key," Wednesday said to Saturday. "Or try to look for another route in, you know, to make it feel like an RPG."

"We don't have time for that," Saturday replied.

The room was about as big as an executive elevator in the House, with the center consisting of a large stone which was as black as Nothing.

"The Nithling!" Thursday shouted. "This must be its heart… or core… or whatever."

"What do we do?" Monday asked.

"This is a video game," Saturday said. "We probably just destroy it."

Just then, more ruffians appeared. They were all wearing armor this time, something none of the other soldiers had on up till then, as well as all carrying weapons that were flaming or charged with electricity.

"This wasn't going to be easy," Thursday said. He motioned to the few remaining soldiers left. "Keep these people busy while we destroy the core!"

The soldiers approached the ruffians on his orders, not minding the fact that they were outmatched and clearly all about to die. Thursday glanced at them, and despite the fact that they were computer programs, still felt something for them on their loyalty. He was also glad that according to the game's lore, none of the soldiers had any family. Or parents somehow, though once again, this was a video game, and one made by Friday.

The core didn't make any attempt to move or to stop them, though it did chip away pieces of Nothing. Eventually, a loud sound came and the stone practically imploded on itself, though thankfully none of the Days were caught in it.

Then, instead of the plains loading, they were standing somewhere filled with light. Confetti was raining down on them, and there was a message in front of them: CONGRATULATIONS! YOU HAVE NOW DEFEATED THE GAME!

The next thing they knew, they were sitting back in their pods.

Immediately, Saturday got out and started berating Friday for putting all of them in mortal danger, and told her to get rid of the machine at once.

The other Days agreed, except Monday, who seemed to be unhappy at losing Celera. In then end it was decided that Tuesday would send the contraption into the void, and it was decreed that no more virtual reality devices would be made in the House.

And so it ended. Or so they thought.

Fetchers are normally, once their duty is completed, returned to the Nothing from where they were summoned. But, one in a million Fetchers might someday find itself promoted to a place higher than its normal station.

This Fetcher, which wound itself up to Mister Monday's study, was one such lucky one. He had been a group of sixty, but had been the only one to survive their mission to go to Friday's simulator and download part of its data before Grim Tuesday chucked it into the void.

The Fetcher handed over the disk to Mister Monday, who looked wistfully at it. In here, there was a record of Celera, and his children. And as long as he had it, he could always remake it, or even perhaps bring them to life. After all, if Friday had figured it out, why not he?

Monday waved his Key and pointed it at the Fetcher. "I think you can be an Inspector now."

The Fetcher's clothing changed, though some of his mismatched features remained. No worry, it usually took time for rank change in the House to cause a change in features. Mister Monday decided that this one could have some liberties and do some small stuff jobs.

He looked at the disk. And then he yawned. Yes, he would have to try to bring them to life someday. Someday…

And then he fell asleep.

While that was a rather serious and weighty matter, in the spirit of this fanfic, we shall end on another note.

Sunday had found his Reaper on his Faceboook account playing Farmville, and had soon became addicted to the game. An edict was soon passed ordering all of the Days to play and send him gifts on it daily.

This did not endear any of the Days to the Reaper, and several of them were hoping that someone would put a hole in his chest the size of a dinner plate one day. He was added to the list of people Saturday hated, almost next to Sunday, and she planned on taking care of him once she reached the Gardens.

Then again, based on what they had done, they sort of deserved it.

A/N: And that ends it. Sorry it took so long to finish. I wasn't able to early due to being busy, and when I was free, I was suddenly hit with a sort of writer's block and wanted to do almost everything except write.

On another note, Pokemon is generally easy (the Elite Four that is) if you're an older player, but the first time I faced them I was barely able to get past the first one. Later I just hoarded revives and used them.

Also, Garth Nix mentions, through the Atlas in Mister Monday, that a Fetcher might occasionally find a place in the House, though we never get to see one (and I thought it would be cool about how one would look and stuff once promoted) but sadly he never really built on it.

Mister Monday's Wii wasn't really that nice by my standards, so I incorporated some of Mister Monday in this. And sorry to those who thought Celera would be doing something important.

Lastly, this finishes the Day's series, and thanks for reading, and please review if you liked. If you liked this sort of humor, you can also check out Punishment Theory, a fanfic on Thursday and his Times along the lines of this.