Chapter 6: A Cry for Karma
The problem, as always, was boredom.
Arcane tome of merlin—currently stuffed in an oversized crib that smelled faintly of milk and magic powder—let out a tired puff. "Ughhh... we're six months old, we can't crawl properly, and the System still won't let us open an anime subscription. What are we supposed to do now?"
Hammer of Hephaestus responded from his own plush prison somewhere across the mental link. "We could try drooling on our way to greatness. Or choke on a rattle dramatically for sympathy points?"
Epirus Bow's voice chimed in like a serious auntie. "The shop function just unlocked. If we can buy a basic cultivation technique, maybe we can get our baby cores upgraded from onyx to ruby."
"Already checked," Merlin the tiny wizard-baby grumbled while chewing on the corner of a book. "Lowest-grade technique is 15 karma points. I have 10"
Spear of Longinus, bouncing lightly in his enchanted crib, suggested, "What if we pool our points? Like a baby co-op."
I, Arthur, tried. "System, can we pool our karma points?"
> [System]: No. Individual karma only. No sharing allowed. Also, you're babies.
I relayed the bad news to the others with a sigh and faceplant into my pillow.
Sulking I said " Bahamut's view is great?"
Baby Bahamut's perspective —he was lying on his back—so the first thing anyone saw was a monumental black cloak that smelled of dragons and adventure.
"My father's duel is over," Bahamut whispered, voice small but smug in our shared mindspace. "Now I'm stuck in a crib. Wrapped like a burrito."
Then it hit me—a ridiculous, glorious, utterly baby-brained idea.
"Bahamut," I said, "what if you cry really loud and slap your dad when he shows up? You'll become the first baby in history to slap a legendary warrior. Imagine the karma payout!"
There was a heavy silence.
Shadow, cranky even as an infant, muttered, "That is the dumbest plan I've heard this week."
"Which is also the only plan we've had this week," Eye of Horus added, with a dramatic baby sigh.
But Bahamut? He was gleaming like a mischievous cat. "I love it. He picked me up like a sack of cabbages earlier. Revenge shall be served. Soft, and with tiny fingers."
The rest of us cheered.
Bahamut squirmed a little, took a deep breath—and let out the most soul-shaking, ear-splitting baby wail ever delivered on any realm, plane, or dimension.
WAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
The assassin flinched, stumbled—and in the same second, the tent was ripped apart as a massive surge of divine pressure crashed down like a storm.
A tall, furious man entered—Bahamut's father.
Before the assassin could run, a golden spear of light erupted through his chest. His body convulsed and cracked open.
---
DING!
> +1,000 Karma: Group Objective—Expose Hidden Corruptant.
+5,000 Karma: Bahamut, Azren—Assist in Elimination of Zanfac Spy.
We stared at our notifications in disbelief.
"Wait—WHAT?" Eye of Horus squeaked. "We got karma points? But we didn't even do anything! We were just being babies!"
"I didn't do anything either!" I shouted. "Except... tell him to cry... Oh my god, did we just cause an assassination with a baby scream?"
"BABY CRY FOR THE WIN," Merlin declared, throwing a plush bear in celebration.
They said as Bahamut relayed everything that happened.
Then he went silent.
"Bahamut? What's going on?" I asked.
Five of the longest minutes in recent memory crawled by.
"So," Baby Bahamut said, "Father killed someone and yelled at everyone after they arrived : 'How did a Hollow Cult spy pass inspection?' One guard insisted the mercs had perfect papers and no corruption signature. Dad replied—and I quote—'If the boy had cried a second later, we'd be planning his funeral, as well as mine and yours!'"
He paused then said. "Anyway, he opened a portal, swaddled me in that cloak, and we popped into our mansion. There are vases everywhere. And pillars inlaid with gold. I'm pretty sure the chandeliers are just pretending not to be sapphires."
In the vision we zoomed along mahogany corridors until Father parked Bahamut in a nursery the size of most city libraries.
"He activated a dream formation over the crib," Bahamut continued, "kissed my forehead—ugh, embarrassing—and said, 'If your mother hears a spy almost harmed you, she'll kill me. She's at her mother's for two months; I'll be on the front lines for one. Be good.' Then he stole my cloak and left."
Bahamut glowered. "That cloak was comfy."
After Bahamut finished his tale, the group chat filled with mixed reactions.
"You were almost assassinated!" hammer shouted.
"You screamed and saved yourself!" Tripod added.
"I want danger-pay karma!" Ame no Habakiri declared.
Merlin was emotional. "We… we witnessed a assassination stopped by a pacifier."
Spear of Longinus nodded solemnly. "We're legends now."
Chaos ruled the group chat until I clapped (digitally) for attention.
"Focus! We're suddenly rich. Combined, Bahamut and I have ten thousand karma, the rest of you a thousand each. First order of business: quality cultivation techniques—something flexible that we can upgrade later, and preferably spirit-awakening, so we don't set off fireworks in public."
Merlin sounding like an old man rubbing his beard "Mythic-rank manuals do come with visual effects—winged dragons, phoenix song, the usual light show."
"Fine," I said. "We buy them, start the basics in our baby jail, awaken discreetly when we've picked a safe area."
The others agreed, nodding in their cribs or bouncing with glee.
Epirus Bow chimed in, "Time to become babies with busted power levels."
Eye of Horus, smirked. "All thanks to a little crying."
"Settled," I declared. "Chapter summary: baby cries, spy dies, we all level up."
"Title suggestion?" Eye of Horus asked.
I grinned. "How about A Cry for Karma?"
The System pinged with a satisfied chime, almost as if it, too, applauded the pun.