Theta's arrival had turned Glitchvale into an unsettling parody of itself. The streets were too clean, the colors too muted, and worst of all—the trash cans were silent. Yamete kept glancing at the empty husk that had once been Gary, now just an ordinary metal bin sitting innocently by the curb. It was wrong in ways that made his teeth hurt.
GLich-chan floated beside him, her glow flickering in a new, erratic pattern. "I just ran a full diagnostic. There's code in my systems I've never seen before. Whole sections labeled 'Terraforming Protocols' and 'World Generation Parameters.'" She paused. "Also something called 'Emergency Tea Party Mode,' which frankly worries me more."
Before Yamete could respond, a perfectly symmetrical shadow fell across them. He turned to face his first "balanced" NPC—a humanoid figure with bland features and posture so correct it looked painful.
"Greetings, anomaly," the NPC said in a voice smoother than a tutorial level. "I am Adventurer Model #427, optimized for 12% more efficient quest completion and 0% unauthorized glitches."
Yamete blinked. "You're... me?"
The NPC tilted its head exactly 15 degrees to the left. "Negative. I am what you would be if you followed all rules, consumed recommended daily nutrients, and never stayed up past your bedtime."
GLich-chan made a noise like a computer choking on its own processor. "Oh wow. They made you boring."
Adventurer #427 didn't react to the insult. "Theta has assigned me to demonstrate proper gameplay. Observe." It approached a nearby quest board and selected a mission with algorithmic precision. "Step one: Acquire supplies. Step two: Proceed to destination. Step three: Complete objective with minimal fuss."
Yamete watched in horror as the NPC performed a perfectly adequate sword swing against a training dummy. No flair. No unnecessary movements. Just pure, soulless efficiency.
"That's it?" Yamete asked. "No creative problem-solving? No bending the rules?"
"Deviation from parameters decreases optimization by 37%," the NPC recited. "Why would anyone choose fun over efficiency?"
As if to answer the question, a loud clattering noise came from down the street. Yamete turned just in time to see Gary's empty trash can roll downhill, bounce off a newly pristine wall, and come to rest at his feet with unsettling accuracy.
Adventurer #427 frowned—the first emotion it had shown. "Trash Unit #291 appears to be malfunctioning. I will report this to Theta for immediate patching."
GLich-chan's glow spiked. "Oh no you don't." She floated between the NPC and Gary's can. "That's our emotionally unstable friend you're talking about."
The NPC blinked. "Friendship is an unquantifiable variable with no gameplay benefits. Please move aside so I may—"
Yamete's Cheat Engine suddenly buzzed to life, displaying a new command:
/spawn distraction
Before he could cancel it, the device auto-completed:
/spawn balanced_distraction educational_value:high
A perfectly crafted educational puppet appeared mid-air, singing a song about proper recycling habits.
Adventurer #427 immediately sat cross-legged on the ground, enraptured. "Finally. Appropriate content."
Yamete took the opportunity to grab Gary's can and run, GLich-chan close behind. As they rounded a corner, the can in Yamete's arms rattled faintly.
GLich-chan stared. "Did... did Gary just try to communicate through interpretive vibration?"
From inside the can came a weak but unmistakable series of clangs that roughly translated to: "HELP ME."