The Corporate Sea was not made of water. It was made of Liquidity.
New Seattle drifted silently through a thick, golden fog that smelled like old coins and hand sanitizer. Below the jagged concrete edge of the city, the "ocean" rippled with the faces of dead currency—Bitcoins, NFTs, and ancient Roman Denarii bubbling to the surface before popping into nothingness.
"Running silent," Elara-Zero whispered into the comms. "I've dampened the Reality Jammer to the lowest setting. To their sensors, we should look like a rounding error."
Elara Vance stood on the observation deck of the Space Needle. She watched the radar screen, which was taped to the wall with duct tape. Blips were circling them. Massive, slow-moving blips.
"What are they?" Aldren Vance asked, adjusting his plastic tricorn hat. He was looking through a telescope made of two toilet paper rolls (the real telescope had been pawned for fuel).
"Patrol boats," Elara said. "Standard issue Cease & Desist Frigates. They're made of red tape and solidified legal pads."
"Red tape," Ignis shuddered from his pile of hoodies. The dragon-man was looking better after eating the prop turkey, but he was still pale. "It tastes like adhesive and sorrow. I tried to eat some once. It glued my mouth shut for a century."
"We have to pass directly under the Boardroom Table," Elara said, pointing to the massive structure floating in the distance.
It was terrifying. A table the size of a continent, polished to a mirror sheen, hovering in the void. Giant chairs—empty, but radiating authority—surrounded it. And in the center, a hologram of a pie chart spun slowly, glowing with the red light of a fiscal deficit.
"If they hail us," Elara said, "nobody speak. I'll handle the corporate speak. Jen, you back me up. You speak Manager."
"I'm ready," Jen said, cracking her knuckles. She was wearing a blazer she had looted from the sitcom set. It was three sizes too big, giving her the silhouette of a menacing linebacker. "I have prepared a PowerPoint presentation on 'Synergy'."
"Li," Elara warned. "Do not try to impart wisdom. The Board hates wisdom. They prefer data."
"I am a vessel of silence," Li Wusheng promised. He was wearing a tie over his grey sling. "I am strictly business."
The city drifted closer. The golden fog parted.
Blocking their path was a ship.
It was shaped like a giant fountain pen. The hull was made of black marble. The sails were sheets of legal paper covered in fine print. On the bow, the name was painted in gold leaf: HMS LITIGATION.
A spotlight hit the Space Needle.
KZZZZT.
"Unidentified Asset," a voice boomed over the radio. It sounded like a choir of bored paralegals. "You are drifting in a restricted intellectual property zone. State your designation and fiscal year."
Elara grabbed the microphone. Her hand was sweating.
"This is..." Elara hesitated. She looked at her ragtag crew. "This is Project: Tax Write-Off."
There was a pause on the radio. Static hissed.
"Project: Tax Write-Off?" the voice asked skeptically. "You look... textured. Tax write-offs are usually lower resolution."
"We are... a high-budget failure," Elara lied. "We went over budget on catering. Now we are being shelved to recoup losses."
"Scan in progress," the voice droned.
A red laser swept over the city. It passed over the Meow & Bow. It passed over the 5G Wizard Tower. It passed over Aldren.
"Scan complete," the voice said. "I am detecting high levels of... Whimsy."
Elara froze.
"Whimsy is a Class-4 Contraband," the voice stated. "Tax Write-Offs are legally required to be depressing. Explain."
"It's not whimsy!" Elara shouted. "It's... ironic detachment!"
"Irony?" The voice paused. "Calculating... Irony is deductible."
"Yes!" Aldren leaned into the mic, unable to help himself. "We are deeply cynical! My soul is a void of despair! I weep for the market trends!"
"Aldren, shut up!" Elara hissed.
"Voice print analyzed," the radio boomed. "That was not irony. That was Melodrama. Melodrama is a taxable asset!"
"We've been made!" Jen yelled. "They know we have feelings!"
"Open fire!" the radio commanded.
The HMS Litigation fired.
It didn't fire cannonballs. It fired Subpoenas.
Massive, rolled-up scrolls shot from the fountain pen's nibs. They arced through the void, trailing legal smoke.
"Evasive maneuvers!" Elara screamed.
"I can't evade!" Zero yelled from the helm. "The city steers like a brick!"
The first Subpoena hit a skyscraper in the Industrial District.
BOOM.
The building didn't explode. It turned into a stack of paperwork. The concrete dissolved into thousands of forms labeled FORM 27B-6.
"They're burying us in bureaucracy!" Rex Chord shouted. "If those hit the tower, we'll be tied up in court for eternity!"
"Jen!" Elara shouted. "Counter-measures!"
Jen ran to the window. She grabbed her T-Shirt Cannon (now loaded with balled-up rejection letters).
"I OBJECT!" Jen screamed, firing the cannon.
The T-shirts hit the incoming Subpoenas in mid-air.
POOF.
The Subpoenas dissolved into red mist.
"Motion to dismiss granted!" Jen cheered. "I am bogging them down in procedural delays!"
"They're launching a Class Action Suit!" Li pointed.
A swarm of smaller ships—The Paralegals—launched from the main carrier. They looked like flying briefcases with teeth.
"They are swarming!" Li yelled. "I must engage!"
"Li, you have one arm!" Elara warned.
"I have legs!" Li shouted. "And I have the Dao of Malicious Compliance!"
Li ran to the edge of the observation deck. He jumped.
He landed on a passing Briefcase Ship. The briefcase tried to bite him.
"I am not authorized to be bitten!" Li shouted. "Where is your biting permit?"
The briefcase paused, confused by the logic.
Li kicked it. CRUNCH. The briefcase shattered into paperclips.
"It works!" Li yelled, jumping to the next ship. "If you ask for their manager, they freeze!"
"Keep them busy!" Elara ordered. "Zero, full power to the Jammer! We need to punch a hole in the blockade!"
"I need more heat!" Zero yelled. "The boiler is cooling!"
"Burn the furniture!" Elara commanded. "Burn the looting!"
Ignis scrambled up, holding the ugly lamp they stole from the sitcom. "Not the lamp! It really tied the room together!"
"Burn it!"
Ignis threw the lamp into the espresso machine. The boiler roared.
The Space Needle hummed. The "Null Signal" turned into a "Sonic Boom."
"Hold on!" Elara yelled.
The city of New Seattle surged forward. It smashed into the line of Red Tape ships.
RIIIIIIIP.
The sound of tearing tape echoed across the cosmos. The blockade line broke. New Seattle plowed through, trailing confetti and legal documents.
"We're through!" Aldren cheered, waving his hat. "We have outrun the law!"
But as they drifted into the open void, the radio crackled one last time.
"Escalating," the voice said. "Calling The Editor."
The Boardroom
High above the chase, on the continent-sized table, The Board was meeting.
There were three of them.
The CEO sat at the head. He was a being made of pure white marble, faceless and smooth. He didn't speak; he vibrated with the sound of a stock market crash.
The Marketing Director sat to the right. She was a shifting cloud of hashtags, trend lines, and focus group data. Her face kept changing to match whatever demographic was currently polling highest.
The Legal Counsel sat to the left. It was a swarm of sentient wasps made of paper, buzzing in the shape of a man.
"The Asset has escaped containment," The Legal Counsel buzzed. "They used unauthorized genre-blending to bypass the blockade."
"They have high engagement metrics," The Marketing Director noted, checking a holographic tablet. "The 'Pirate' aesthetic is trending. Maybe we should re-brand them?"
"No," The CEO vibrated. The sound cracked the table. "They are... messy. They lack Synergy. They must be cut."
"We cannot catch them with ships," Legal buzzed. "They are too unpredictable."
"Then we send a freelancer," The CEO decided.
He reached into a drawer in the table. He pulled out a phone. It was an old, black rotary phone. The cord stretched down into the infinite darkness below the table.
He dialed a number.
Click. Click. Click.
"Hello?" a voice answered. It sounded like the snip of scissors.
"This is Management," The CEO said. "We have a run-on sentence. A story that refuses to end."
"I see," the voice said. "Do you want me to edit it?"
"I want you to cut it," The CEO said. "Cut it out of the page."
"Consider it done," the voice said. "I love a good trim."
The Hunter
On the observation deck, the celebration was short-lived.
Elara was watching the radar. The blips of the blockade ships were fading, but a new signal had appeared.
It was a single, small blip. But it was moving fast. Faster than anything should move in the Void.
"What is that?" Elara asked.
"It's not a ship," Zero said, squinting at the screen. "It's... a person."
"A person?"
"He's running," Zero said. "He's running on the empty space."
Elara ran to the window. She pulled out the toilet-paper telescope.
In the distance, a man was sprinting across the nothingness of the Void Ocean. He wore a sharp black suit and a red tie. He had a pencil tucked behind his ear.
And in his hand, he carried a pair of Scissors.
Giant, silver shears as big as a sword.
"He's cutting the distance," Aldren whispered.
The man wasn't just running. He was snipping the air in front of him. Every time he snipped, the space between him and the city vanished.
SNIP.
He was a mile away.
SNIP.
He was half a mile away.
SNIP.
He was standing on the edge of the Industrial District.
"He's aboard!" Rex screamed.
The man looked up at the Space Needle. He adjusted his glasses. He smiled. It was a terrifying, helpful smile.
"Hello!" his voice projected without a microphone. "I'm The Editor-in-Chief. I'm here to tighten the pacing!"
He raised the scissors. He looked at a warehouse.
"This scene drags," he noted.
SNIP.
He cut the air.
The warehouse didn't explode. It just... fell away. It was cut out of the reality, drifting off into the void like a scrap of paper trimmed from a photo.
"He's editing us!" Elara screamed. "He's cutting the city apart!"
"We have to stop him!" Li yelled.
"How?" Ignis asked. "He has giant scissors!"
"We have to be..." Elara searched for a plan. "...uncuttable."
"Uncuttable?"
"We have to be essential to the plot!" Elara realized. "If we're boring, he cuts us. If we're vital, he has to keep us!"
"Aldren!" Elara grabbed the vampire. "Start a monologue! A really important one!"
"Me?" Aldren gasped. "Now?"
"Yes! Make yourself plot-relevant!"
Aldren ran to the balcony. He threw his arms wide.
"Hark!" Aldren bellowed at the tiny figure below. "I am the Prince of Shadows! And I have a dark secret that is crucial to the finale!"
The Editor paused. He tilted his head.
"A secret?" The Editor called back. "Is it a good one? Or is it filler?"
"It is... shocking!" Aldren lied. "It involves... the backstory of the universe!"
The Editor lowered his scissors. "I'm listening. But keep it snappy. You have three paragraphs."
Elara slumped against the console. "He bought it. For now."
"We have three paragraphs to figure out how to kill an Editor," Zero whispered.
"We don't kill him," Elara said, watching the man with the shears. "We get him fired."