Llewellyn paused for a long moment.
"They're a group of people who want System access," he said after a while, resting a hand on Penguin's little back. "At a glance, it looks varied—a movement of the people. Why should only awakened individuals have System access instead of everyone? It certainly sounds reasonable. Everybody wants power. Nobody wants to deal with a 45-minute commute to work when they can teleport from their bedroom two minutes before work starts. Nobody wants to work at all, if they can help it. That's easy to understand. But the ones at the top leading these access campaigns are wealthy individuals—tech entrepreneurs, high-level Knot researchers, some government officials, to name a few—angry they can't get access, resentful this possible avenue of power is closed to them, and convinced they should be allowed to use and monetize System tools as they please."
I knew as much.
From what I'd been able to gather online, these people's argument was that the System's selection process was arbitrary and unfair, that access should be available, if not to all who wanted it (opinion on this wasn't homogeneous), at least to those who had "proven themselves" or were considered influential enough—and that, whatever criteria the System was adopting, they definitely shouldn't have been excluded.
"Unfortunately for them, the System is not a VIP club," Llewellyn continued. "It doesn't operate based on human frameworks. Most awakened people who have been granted System access risk their lives each time they fight a Knot. They're supported, yes—compensated, well rewarded and cared for, but that's secondary to what's required of them. Even the ones who don't fight directly have likely given up work-life balance, or are ready to when required, depending on their role."
Well, that definitely seemed to track.
From what I knew of Emma, she was on 24/7 and her role wasn't even about fighting, just keeping an eye on everything around Llewellyn, so that he could focus on doing what he did best without having to worry about the rest. I had some perks myself now that I had a System contract, but I hadn't had a single second to spare since I agreed to this and I kept being dropped off in the middle of Knot sites with only a few seconds notice.
In a sense, once you signed a contract with the System, you accepted to put the rest of your life aside to prioritize the Knots.
I doubt any of these people would agree to it.
"Moreover," Llewellyn continued, still cuddling Penguin, "there are generally reasons why some people are not given access at all, not even as external support. Primarily, because the System emerged to solve a problem—the Knots—and it would be folly to let in people whose interest runs counter to solving that problem. Doesn't matter how hurt their egos are; entitlement won't work. This is neither a corporation nor a charity; it has nothing to do with politics, the economy, or whatever people are concerned with. If we're all wiped out, all of that is gone. The System's objective is to restore Magic's natural flow—and to find people who can help. Most of the people campaigning for access don't care about that in the slightest. They don't want to fight, refuse to be placed in non-protagonist roles, and are only interested in how to improve their own perceived rights, monetary conditions, or social standing."
Not surprising. I wouldn't imagine any of these people would lift a finger if it didn't benefit them or their cause in some way.
To be fair, maybe this is also why the System only reached out to me when it had a request it was sure I'd agree to put before everything else. If it'd appeared to me seven years ago, I'd have said that I didn't have that much will to survive myself, let alone save others. You know—that meme on zombie movies asking how characters in a zombie apocalypse can put so much effort into not dying? That would have been me.
Anyway.
I stared at the flaming temple chandelier above our heads.
Llewellyn continued.
"The Alliance—which gathers all these people under its umbrella—has been lobbying governments, funding research into hacking the System, spreading conspiracy theories online, and more. Every once in a while someone will wait for me outside Knot sites to "talk". Last time, it was about proposing the placement of System Shop ads and developing a paid subscription model with different tiers I'd benefit from if I found a way to let them in and make it happen. That's one of the reasons I normally don't linger."
"A paid subscription model? For the System?"
This financial angle was new to me—though I couldn't say it came as a surprise. All I'd known was that The Alliance openly backed Hoverhasset, using his media presence and rhetoric to further their agenda; but I'd never really thought too deeply about what their agenda was, besides whatever he'd been saying.
"You've seen nothing," Llewellyn said, darkly. "They've been unable to hack the System, because it's not really something you hack to begin with. So they've started to develop shadow economies selling fake System access, potions that are often dangerous to non-awakened biology, fake or unstable artifacts… a combination of things that are touted as able to awaken regular people. Basically exploiting anyone who's desperate or greedy enough for System access, trying to hinder the System's regular action and protocols, and fueling corruption and instability. Ó Lochlainn has been investigating several cases in which awakened individuals were recruited (or kidnapped, though it's unclear why they didn't teleport out) for research purposes—with the aim of finding vulnerabilities to exploit in the System. These people then get pushed into experiments, forbidden research, or risky missions. Incidentally, that's why I was at KARMA that time you teleported there, when we ran into Ó Néill. KARMA only hires awakened people, otherwise they wouldn't be able to do their job. In theory, this makes them less likely to be bribed with promises of access and power, but that doesn't mean they haven't been infiltrated, too."
…Well, damn. This was a lot.
I thought our main problem was whatever that Wave of Fear we'd experienced after the Gilded Bay dungeon was.
But on top of the cosmic horrors, we now had to deal with these people?!
The only reason humanity hadn't all been killed in a global apocalypse so far was because the System had been redirecting most of the destructive impulses of the Knots into Dungeons, awakening people able to tackle them, and teaming up with Llewellyn to take care of Distorted Realms—all the while trying to make sure that everyone else's life could proceed as normal as possible.
But apparently that wasn't as important as whatever ego trip these people had going?
There was also the argument as to why a non-human entity like the System should be allowed to make decisions about the survival of humans—though, well, as far as I was concerned that was a moot point when the non-human entity seemed to have the survival and safeguarding of humans more at heart than the humans themselves.
But—well. I suppose that was a gray area however you looked at it.
I didn't know how Llewellyn felt about this, but I'd fight the cosmic horrors any day if these assholes were the alternative.
Would they just keep attacking us now? What were we even supposed to do?
That guy had literally tried to kill me; it's not like you can reason with these people.
"What did the guy say, anyway?" Llewellyn said.
I turned my head to the side, looking at him properly. "'We can't even see the System's interface. How is that fair?' Also something about whether I thought I was special."
Llewellyn's eyes went dark. He grumbled something, which made Penguin look up.
"But how did he even get here without System access?" I asked. "The guy clearly had an Innishean accent so he must have—"
The answer occurred to me just then.
"...Those teleportation bombs," I realized. He must have had more.
Damn it. That meant these people could literally pop up anywhere. And Distorted Realms locations usually were leaked within seconds, which made Llewellyn an easy target.
We could only hope his "I've been trying to get into one of these for months" comment meant that it wasn't so easy to actually get in.
We remained in silence for a moment, mulling things over.
After a while, Llewellyn turned his head to look at me.
"What?" I asked.
His gaze moved to my throat.
"Your marks are gone," he said. "Not just the ones from the attack, I mean."
…Oh. Right.
"You did give me a Divine Restoration Draught," I said. "What did you expect?"
Llewellyn frowned.
He placed Penguin gently on the floor. We watched him scamper off to try the dragon's bed, then he scooted closer to me.
"I have one prize request left from the bowling challenge," Llewellyn said, hoisting himself up a bit and looking down at me.
Uh.
Our gazes locked.
"And that's how you want to waste it?"
"I wouldn't call that wasting it."
Um. Well.
I held his gaze, heat flaring through me.
As if I'd say no.