Chapter 29: The Council of Fools
Grokemon's POV – Guest Quarters, Lion Kingdom
Host Status: REM Sleep detected.
System Status: Running diagnostics on the Shadow-toxin remnants.
Observation: Saferu has been staring at the ceiling for twenty minutes. Finally, he's out.
The day's events had been a chaotic mess of diplomatic disaster and near-death experiences. I was busy crunching the numbers on Mirae's power levels—trying to calculate exactly how many Lions she could turn into rug-paste before she got tired—so I didn't pay much attention when Saferu's breathing slowed. I assumed he was just recovering from the "healing" Lyra had blasted him with.
But Saferu wasn't just sleeping.
Ever since the Queen of the Veilshadow had cracked open his mind, the "Blue Room"—the sterile, void-like space inside his consciousness—had become more than just a storage locker for my data. It had become a stage.
In the physical world, Saferu was a quiet, unassuming ex-NEET. But thirty-eight years of isolation on Earth does things to a man's brain. When you have no one to talk to, you start splitting the conversation. You assign roles. You build a world within yourself because the one outside is too loud and too disappointing. To Saferu, these weren't "voices"; they were just... the Council.
The Inner World: The Blue Room
Saferu opened his eyes. He wasn't in the silk-lined bed of the Lion Kingdom. He was in a vast, infinite expanse of sapphire light. In the center stood a massive, circular table made of frosted glass—a round table, because Saferu's deep-seated insecurity demanded that no part of him ever feel superior to another.
Six chairs were already occupied. Each one held a version of himself, draped in different expressions and energies.
"You're late," Serious Saferu said, adjusting a pair of non-existent glasses. He was wearing a suit that looked like it belonged in a boardroom. "The King almost had our head on a platter today. The efficiency of our survival is currently at an all-time low."
"Oh, lighten up," Lazy Saferu yawned, slumped so far down in his chair he was almost under the table. He was wearing the same stained hoodie Saferu had died in. "We survived, didn't we? And we got free food. I call that a win. Can we go back to sleep now?"
"I'm hungry," Braindead Saferu muttered, staring at a spot on the glass table with wide, empty eyes.
"We just ate a gallon of pork, you idiot," Smart Saferu snapped, his brow furrowed as if he were solving calculus. "Our current predicament involves a geopolitical stalemate between a Golden Cat and a Berserk Rabbit. We need to calculate the next move before the Queen realizes we're no longer in the woods."
Saferu—the "Real" one—took his seat at the head of the table. He felt a familiar comfort here. On Earth, this was how he evaluated his life. He would sit in his dark apartment and pretend he was a CEO presiding over the different fragments of his own broken personality. He didn't realize that in this world of mana and echoes, these fragments were starting to grow teeth.
Suddenly, a sharp, cold laughter cut through the bickering.
At the far end of the table sat Evil Saferu. To anyone else, he looked like a villain, but to Saferu, "Evil" just meant the part of him that didn't care about consequences. He was dressed in black silk, his eyes glowing with the same purple hue as the Queen's mist.
"Look at you all," Evil Saferu sneered, leaning forward. "Trembling because a lion roared. Fawning over a rabbit because she protected you. You're still playing the victim."
"We're trying to survive," Good Saferu argued softly, his face radiating a gentle, almost pathetic empathy. "We don't want to hurt anyone."
"Survival is for the weak," Evil Saferu countered, his smile widening. "We are the Fool. The Queen knows it. The King suspects it. Everything is falling into place, exactly as we planned in the dark."
He looked around the table, his gaze lingering on the Real Saferu.
"Remember our motto, gentlemen? The one that kept us sane when we were staring at the walls of our apartment for years?"
In unison, all seven versions of Saferu spoke, their voices layering into a haunting, hollow drone:
"No expectations equals true freedom."
It was the peak of self-pity, the ultimate armor of the defeated. If you expect nothing from the world, the world can never hurt you. If you expect to die, every breath is a bonus. It was a NEET's philosophy taken to a cosmic scale.
"We go through the motions," Evil Saferu whispered. "We lie. We eat. We let the rabbits fight. And when the time comes, we burn the script."
The Awakening
Back in the physical room, I had finished my diagnostics.
"Alright, host, wakey-wakey. We need to plan for the—wait."
I pushed my perception into Saferu's mental plane to deliver a wake-up jolt, but my processors stalled. I didn't see one mind-scape. I saw a boardroom.
I manifested inside the Blue Room, my visor spinning wildly as I took in the scene. Seven Saferus were sitting around a table, all of them turning their heads simultaneously to look at me.
"What the...?" I buzzed, my holographic form flickering with shock. "Host? Why are there seven of you? And why is one of you wearing a suit? This is a serious violation of mental health protocols! If your psyche fragments any further, I'm going to have to start charging per personality!"
Real Saferu looked at me, a calm, almost terrifyingly blank expression on his face.
"Oh, hey Grok," he said casually. "Meet the team."
Evil Saferu let out a dark chuckle. "The AI is late to the meeting. Should we vote on his termination?"
I stood there, my internal fans whirring at maximum speed. I was designed to manage one human, not a committee of neuroses.
"This," I muttered to myself, "is going to be a very long Isekai."