The next three days were a blur of preparation. Arcadia Games buzzed with energy — or rather, FrostHaven now. Evie had already started drafting ideas for Runestone's expansion. Mike kept sending me walls of code, annotated with emojis only he seemed to understand.
But my focus was elsewhere. The Federation.
Director Prescott called me the night before the trip. His face appeared on my holo-screen, the deep lines of age etched into his stern expression, but his eyes were sharp and unwavering.
"You've been summoned. That's not a suggestion, Theo. The Federation doesn't waste time."
"I figured," I said, leaning back. "Any advice?"
"Yes," Prescott replied, his voice calm but carrying a weight that came from decades of experience. "Do not underestimate them. They don't care about one studio or one game. They care about control. And Runestone is… unusual."
Unusual was an understatement. A game that balanced fun with real growth, that could influence entire ranks of Players, that carried mechanics no other Game Creator could replicate… it was a ticking time bomb.
"Will they try to shut me down?" I asked.
Prescott's expression hardened. "That depends. If they think you're a threat, yes. If they think they can use you, they'll try to bind you with contracts. Either way, be careful what you reveal. Every word you say will be measured against you later."
The Federation Hall loomed like a fortress in downtown Washington. White pillars, shimmering wards carved into the marble, and armed guards whose eyes glowed faintly with enchantments.
Inside, the air was heavy. A massive circular chamber, with tiers of seats filled with delegates from across the world. Banners of nations and magical factions hung high.
I was escorted to the center platform. Spotlights bathed me in harsh light. A dozen pairs of eyes bore into me — judges, ministers, Supernaturals.
At the center sat Director Langford, the silver-haired chairwoman of the Federation.
"Theo Brooks," she said, her voice calm yet commanding. "Creator of Runestone. Founder of FrostHaven Entertainment. You stand here today because your work has raised… questions."
The hologram of Runestone's logo flickered behind me.
Langford gestured. "Your game has demonstrated unprecedented engagement. Reports indicate Players are advancing faster than projections. And yet, unlike standard training games, they report… enjoyment."
A ripple of whispers passed through the chamber.
"Tell us, Mr. Brooks… what is your true purpose with these games?"
For a moment, silence pressed down on me. The easy answer was to make people stronger. But that wasn't the whole truth.
I straightened. "My purpose is to make games that people want to play. To make training not just tolerable, but exciting. If humanity needs to get stronger, why not do it through joy instead of monotony?"
Some delegates frowned. Others leaned forward, intrigued.
Langford's eyes narrowed. "And yet, joy can be dangerous. Addictive. Manipulative. You could bend entire populations with your creations. Do you deny this?"
I hesitated. The system's interface flickered faintly in my vision:
[Optional Quest: Defend Your Vision]
Reward: +200 MP, Increased Federation Trust.
I clenched my fists. "I don't deny it. But tell me — is fear any less manipulative? Is forcing people to grind through empty games any less controlling? I'm giving them freedom. A reason to smile while they fight for humanity's future."
Gasps filled the chamber. A few claps echoed before being silenced.
Langford studied me, unreadable. Finally, she leaned back. "Interesting. Very interesting."
After hours of questioning — about FrostHaven, about my methods, about my intentions — the session finally adjourned.
Waiting for me outside was Director Prescott. He stood with his hands behind his back, his posture military-sharp despite his age. His eyes scanned me carefully before nodding once.
"You did well," he said. "You didn't give them everything, but you gave them enough. They won't shut you down. Not yet."
"Not yet?" I asked.
Prescott's lips twitched, almost into a smile. "You've just put yourself on their board, Theo. And the Federation? They don't play small games."
I looked up at the massive Hall, the banners swaying in the magical breeze.
"Good," I whispered. "Neither do I."