Debauchery Worlds 67 (Patreon)

Commissioned by michael stitcher

Debauchery Worlds

Chapter 67

-VB-

Alan Marris 

Cylene VII, Coreward Principality

2984.02.04

Cylene VII was a barren rocky world that sat at the very edge of the Cylene System.

This made it the perfect place for me to set up a cloning facility. It would prevent anyone from sneaking up on it. And even if someone could because they somehow stole one of my ships or something like that, six new space stations currently being built would guard Cylene VII. 

And it was on this world that I began to build my cloning facilities. 

“How well do you think this is gonna work out?” one of my clones asked me needlessly. He was AC-5, the mangaka clone who was lazier than the Hive Mind’s average and median.

It was because he was lazy that we agreed to put him in charge of the cloning facilities as the Head Director. There wasn’t a lot of work to be done here since most of the work was going to be automated. 

“Probably well,” I replied casually. “Since we won’t be making memory-less clones, the clones will know that they’re part of a greater whole, whether or not they have access to the hive mind.

He hummed. “Are you sure? I mean… if any of them are like me, then they’re not gonna want to fight.”

“I’m sure we can put them to work somewhere. Like you.”

Being the Head Director would give AC-5 a lot of time, and his previous job as the quality inspector for one of our heavy industry factories also left him with a lot of time, which he used to create mangas that the rest of the clones enjoyed; we were a hive mind, not a gestalt consciousness. 

“So adventurous ones get to go out and fight, industrious ones get to work, and the lazy ones…”

“Are probably going to be made engineers, planners, and other thinking types that need to find the best way forward.”

“Ugh,” AC-5 grunted. “That’s going to suck for them. Thinking is a lot of work.”

I snorted. It wasn’t true but also not false. Thinking about fun things was easy. Thinking about stuff - complicated, arduous, and, most importantly, tedious stuff - was not fun or easy. 

“Better their mind run the mental treadmill instead of the body, though all of us know better than to let our bodies suffer just because we’re a hive mind, right?”

AC-5 looked away.

“Oi.”

He didn’t turn back.

“You are exercising, right?”

“Look, man, I don’t got a waifu. I’m always drawing and working and -.”

“No excuses.”

“Yes, sir…”

I huffed before turning away to look at the facility floor where the cloning pods were installed. 

Yes…

Soon, we’ll have more bodies than what to do with. Exploration, expansion, exploitation, and extermination. We’ll be able to do them all.

“You’re thinking something weird and melodramatic again, aren’t you?”

“Can you shut up and let me have this moment?”

“No. I’m you. I don’t want me to become a weirdo who stares out into a crowd and monologue inside his head.”

“Bruh. We’ve been doing that for years!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t! You just exposed yourself!”

I could already hear the clones from across multiple realities laughing at me. Like literally hear it.

Ugh.

“Fuck you.”

“We tried, remember? It wasn’t us. Self-cest only works when we’re femboys but we’re definitely not femboys.”

“Just… just please shut up.”

“No, make me-”

I knew myself enough to know what I had to do next.

I threw a punch, and like a coward that we all were, my clone ran away cackling rather than fight.

-VB-

Alan Marris (clone)

Earth “Falmart”

2984.03.04 (2009.12.27 local)

It spoke a lot about how the locals felt that even after two years since we walked into this world, they remained servile and deferential. 

It probably had a lot to do with the fact that my battlemechs were still around, and even their best magic was not good enough to take down a medium mech, never mind the heavies and assaults. Falmart was also where we recruited new colonists and soldiers.

‘I think the Sanderan Empire actually wants me to keep recruiting people,’ clone Z12 thought from within the cockpit of the Firestarter. 

Firestarter was the bane of infantry, and in a world where they barely had any armored and aerial combat force, the Firestarter’s flamers made it a horrifying titan of war. Worse, we liked to put jump jets on all of our Firestarters. So not only were our Firestarters horrifying due to being fast flame-spitting machine, it was also a flying machine of war that swatted wyverns out of the sky. 

As for why we had Firestarters here, it was because we were experimenting with upgradging existing models with our technology. 

Specifically, all of the Firestarters used on Falmart were “FS9-MU2” or Firestarter - Marris Upgrade 2. While the armor plates remained standard, the internal structure used Azerothian enchanted metals, which reduced their overall weight and increased structural integrity. So not only were our Firestarters lighter, they were tougher, which allowed our clone mechwarriors to perform more extreme maneuvers that would have regular mechwarriors balking at the ridiculousness.

And it was a good thing we had the Firestarters because closeness bred familiarity and familiarity bred courage(?) within the locals. Though not everyone we met joined us, plenty of them started to set up a town not too far from where we set up our base camp. Those people who lived there saw our mechs and other high tech vehicles come and go, and in the two years that we have held the Alnus Hill and the surrounding lands, plenty of people got used to us and our weapons of war. 

Clone Z12 hummed as he brought the Firestarter around to look at his patrol partner, clone Z20 in his Jenner. The Jenner was not something we made but rather salvaged and seized from the Combine. It was, however, upgraded like all of our Firestarters.

The Jenner and Firestarter made for a wonderful duo for patrols, because outside of very well trained wyvern riders, no one else could match the speed and maneuverability of the two battlemechs. 

So they moved across the plains that surrounded by the base camp, keeping the eastern area free of vermins.

Z12 stopped when his updated analysis computer beeped. 

He turned around to see what it had found. His gaze turned towards a dirt road in the distance and the camera zoomed in. He grimaced when he found what looked like a wagon that had been robbed, and there were plenty of crows circling around in the sky above it. He wondered how he almost missed that. We also began to question if Z12 was fit for patrol duty if he was missing a literal murder of crows.

‘Fuck off,’ Z12 snapped at the hive mind, and most of us boo’ed right back at him. 

“Moving in behind you, 12,” Z20 said through the radio.

“Alright. Moving in to investigate.”

As they moved in, their mech’s feet shook the ground and sunk slightly into the mostly dirt and grass earth. The tall grass, which looked like regular fine grass from inside the cockpit of a battlemech, swayed as the very movement of the mechs made the winds swirl and blow. 

And after what felt like an hour, we came upon the ruined wagon. 

There were bodies, debris, and blood everywhere. And considering how all of the women were naked with their throats slit, I don’t think they died quickly.

… But what drew our attention in the zoomed in video feed was the freshness of the blood.

How it still dripped.

Narrowing his eyes, Z12 activated a much finer sensor, bathing his cockpit with the glow of the thermal imaging. 

There. Literally just a hundred meters or so from both of our mechs was a dozen or so bandits. 

Sneering, Z12 turned his small lasers at them and fired. 

They didn’t even get to run before the shearing hit literally cut their bodies and limbs. Z20 in his Jenner jogged up and stomped on them.

And then our sensors detected someone else approaching us. Just one person.

Z20 turned to look and immediately, the entire hive mind grew cautious and wary of the approaching individual.

Because in a world where magic and gods were, we were being approached by an immortal. And she looked … extremely angry? 

“YOU!” 

Rory Mercury, the Apostle of Emroy, the local God of Darkness, War, Insanity, and other edgy things, shouted as she pointed her finger at us. Damn, she had a set of lungs on her tiny body, huh? 

We didn’t even blink at the giant axe she was hefting around with ease. 

“Yes, Apostle Mercury?” 

Though we hadn’t encountered her and her kind before we destroyed the gate, we certainly did afterwards. 

They had a lot to say about how we destroyed the gate. We knew that we would incur some kind of wrath and had … prepared accordingly. 

As in we straight-up told the apostles who came to punish us that should they try, we will destroy this world. That they were the arrogant pricks and cunts who thought they were the masters of the universe when their world was nothing but a speck of dust in the infinite cosmos while we ruled over multiple worlds. 

… Well, we hadn’t at that time but we certainly did now. 

“You took my prey! AGAIN!” 

“It is what it is, pint-sized pitbull,” Z20 drawled irreverently. 

Rory shrieked furiously before jumping and swinging her axe at Z20’s Jenner. 

Z20, like all of us, ran while laughing at Rory. 

The gods of this world obviously came to despise us, and so the apostles ended up having to “patrol” the area often. 

Of course, even apostles were nothing before battlemechs.

Didn’t stop them from trying to fight us, though. Rory certainly loved to fight us… mostly because with our long legs and far seeing sensors, we kept “stealing” her kills.

It was a psychopath’s pandering paradise with various visible violence everywhere and everywhen we met one another. 

After two years, though, only Rory remained to “check” us. 

“Not our problem your legs are too short~!”

“Get the fuck over here and face me like a man!”

“Nyah nyah nyah!” 

Z12 sighed.

At times like this, he truly wondered if they were all bipolar. 

The hive mind immediately told him no. We checked that out already. We were just fucked up as they can be after … everything.

… Yeah, that sounded about right.

… Hot damn, Rory actually threw her axe accurately and precisely enough to hit the Jenner.