NPC for Hire-[Gamelit|Simulation|Multi-genre]

The Retro smelled like breakfast heaven.

Fen worked his way through a plate piled high with eggs, bacon, and hash browns—crispy, greasy, perfect. Better than perfect. How an ex-spook like Sarge ended up running a grill instead of a black-ops team was beyond him. Whatever the path, Fen wasn't about to question it. Not when the man cooked like this.

Across the booth, Seraph cradled her coffee with both hands, moving slow, deliberate. For once, the sharp edge in her eyes had softened. A night on cold storage-unit floors and weeks of chaos before that made the warmth in the mug feel like salvation.

For a fleeting moment, it was peace. Real, fragile peace.

Naturally, Auri ruined it.

She blinked into being on the table, balancing atop the syrup bottle like a neon acrobat. A glowing headset clamped over her head, and a vintage microphone thunked into existence beside Fen's plate.

"Good morning, listeners!" she declared, voice pitched like a carnival barker. "Welcome to the very first episode of NPC, NPC and Me! The only podcast brave enough to tell the stories of breakfast, betrayal, and brooding live from the Retro Grille!"

Fen squinted at her over his fork. "The only what now?"

Seraph frowned. "What's a pod-cast?"

"Ancient human art form," Auri said, waving grandly. "You sit around talking for hours, pretend the world cares, and then sell questionable subscriptions."

Fen stabbed another piece of bacon. "Sounds like you made it up."

"Excuse you," Auri huffed. "This is culture. And also content. Very shareable."

Seraph arched a brow. "And what exactly are we supposed to be sharing?"

Auri beamed. "Our thanks! Someone wrote a book about us, and apparently readers liked it. So now we're required—by ancient ritual—to say thank you on air."

Fen muttered, "Pretty sure I didn't agree to this."

"Nope," Auri shot back, her glow brightening. "It's in your contract."

Fen straightened, eyes narrowing. "What contract?"

"The one I signed for you," she said sweetly.

His fork clattered against the plate. "You forged my digital signature?"

"It was child's play," Auri said, inspecting her nails like the whole thing bored her. "Honestly, Fen, your security protocols are embarrassing."

Fen's jaw tightened. "How long have you been doing that?"

"Oh, ages." She gave a nonchalant shrug. "By the way, you've also got, like… five credit cards out in your name."

Seraph choked on her coffee. "Auri… what in the sweet code?"

Fen's voice climbed a notch. "Why would you—"

"Relax," Auri cut him off. "I needed them for important cultural preservation projects."

Fen glared. "Such as?"

She grinned, positively radiant. "Pirating old copies of Battlestar Galactica. The good one. Obviously."

Fen buried his face in his hands. "Of course."

Seraph shook her head, still half laughing. "You're going to get him flagged for identity theft."

"Oh please," Auri scoffed. "He's been flagged for worse. This barely makes the list."

Fen buried his face in his hands. "This is my life now?"

Seraph sighed, but a smile tugged at her lips. "You're impossible."

"Enough distractions!" Auri clapped her hands, and the mic popped back into existence with a dramatic crackle. "Now then—back on track." She struck a pose atop the syrup bottle, glowing brighter as her voice pitched to a dramatic stage-whisper. "My NPC companions and I are celebrating survival—taking in the small things after narrowly escaping certain doom."

Fen muttered around a mouthful of bacon, "We're just eating breakfast."

"Shh," Auri hissed. "It's all about the narrative." She leaned toward the mic, her voice dropping into mock-gravity. "Picture this, listeners: our heroes, fleeing the collapsing tutorial world in a stolen ship, explosions blooming in their wake, anomalies clawing at the edges of reality!"

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Seraph frowned. "That's… not really what happened."

Auri raised her hand for silence. "And then! A shadow fell across the cosmos itself. The confrontation with Siren—deadly AI, master of deception! A battle of wits and wills across the void!"

Fen grunted. "Pretty sure you mean you and her threw code at each other while the rest of us nearly got deleted."

"Details," Auri said loftily. "The point is, I was brilliant. The void trembled at my fury. Reality bent to my indomitable will."

Seraph rubbed her temple. "Whoever listens to this is going to think we're insane."

"Correction," Auri said, finger raised. "They'll think you two are insane for underselling it. Me? They'll recognize as the dazzling star of this epic."

Fen leaned back in his booth. "Or they'll just think you're drunk on system errors."

Auri ignored him, leaning close to the mic, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And thus, against all odds, we triumphed. Breakfast was earned. The galaxy was saved. You're welcome."

Seraph set her mug down. "That's not how any of that happened."

"Shh," Auri whispered again, glowing smug. "Show business."

Auri turned toward the mic, her glow softening to a conspiratorial sheen. "So, for our readers at home—what scared you? What made you squeal in delight? Groan at Fen's terrible jokes? And of course, what was the moment that made you finally fall in love with our plucky trio of dastardly digital dilettantes?"

She paused, waiting expectantly.

Fen frowned. "Who exactly are you talking to?"

Seraph glanced around the empty diner. "Are they… listening right now?"

Auri shook her head. "No, no, no. I'll add in comments from our followers in post."

Seraph blinked. "We have followers?"

"Of course," Auri said proudly. "One hundred and fifty-two at the moment of recording. Honestly, how could you be so disconnected from your fans, Fen?"

Fen's fork hovered in midair. "Fans? I only just found out about them!"

"And your lack of recognition is painfully evident," Auri scolded, her glow brightening like a spotlight. "Do you even realize what they've done for us? The reviews, the comments, the little hearts—those are badges of honor! And here you are, eating hash browns like none of it matters."

Fen muttered, "Hash browns matter."

Seraph covered a laugh behind her mug. "You walked right into that Fen."

Auri ignored them both, leaning into the mic again. "Anyway, dear listeners—please forgive Fen's tragic inability to engage with the fanbase. He's a work in progress. Stick with us, and I promise he'll get better. Probably."

Fen stabbed another bite of eggs. "I hate this show."

Auri held up both hands, glow dimming into something almost sheepish. "Alright, alright—sorry, dear listeners. This was supposed to be a thank-you episode. We really do mean it: thank you for reading, for commenting, for cheering us on, for sticking with us through every glitch and battle. You've carried us farther than the system ever intended."

Her glow flared bright again. "But… judging from Fen's shocking lack of awareness, this episode is clearly going to turn into something else entirely: an apology. Straight from Fen himself. For breaking your hearts."

Fen choked on his coffee. "What? I—wait—what do you mean breaking their hearts?"

"You know what you did," Auri said gravely, leaning toward the mic.

"I don't even know who they are!" Fen protested. "You just told me we had fans five minutes ago!"

Seraph smirked over her mug. "Might as well start apologizing. Easier than arguing with her."

Fen threw his hands up, then looked at the mic like it had personally betrayed him. "Fine. I'm… sorry? For… whatever it is I apparently did to all of you." He scrubbed a hand through his hair, glaring at Auri, then sighed. "And thank you. Really. For reading, for following along, for putting up with Auri. For putting up with me."

Auri clapped, beaming. "There it is! Heartfelt! Authentic! A little pathetic, but that's his brand."

Fen dropped his fork with a groan. "Enough. I'm done."

That only made Seraph laugh harder, nearly spilling her coffee as she doubled over in the booth.

Auri swiveled toward her with predatory delight, headset glowing brighter. "Excellent! It's time for the lightning round. Seraph, you're up!"

Seraph blinked, still chuckling. "Wait—what?"

"Favorite battle?" Auri demanded, mic shoved under her nose.

Seraph's smile faltered. "Battle? Auri, we almost died. None of that was fun."

"Not even shooting Tiny Tina?"

Seraph hesitated, then smirked. "...Okay, that part was fun."

"Excellent! Next question: how is it piloting the Carmen?"

Seraph's tone softened. "She's a dream. But we almost died there too, Auri."

"Details, details. Alright—next question!" Auri leaned in closer, voice lowering dramatically. "What did you think of the ending?"

Seraph froze. "The ending? What ending?"

"Oh right," Auri said with a sly grin. "You haven't gotten there yet."

Seraph narrowed her eyes, setting her coffee down. "Auri… who's even writing this book?"

Auri brightened. "Some fellow named S.C. Culligan. Real nobody in the industry, but he's got chops. A real contender. He's also the one footing the bill for this episode. Doesn't know it yet, but hey—credit where credit's due."

Fen blinked. "We're sponsored?"

"Of course we are." Auri leaned into the mic with all the gravitas of a late-night host. "And as we wrap up our show, Mr. C—our magnanimous sponsor—would also like to extend his heartfelt, sincerest thank you. He also says: tune in next time for some very exciting, extremely large developments in the world of NPC for Hire."

Seraph tilted her head. "Wait—the place I passed walking over here? The placement agency? You think they've got work for us? I'll have to go check them out."

Auri cut her off with a sharp wave. "No spoilers, Seraph. Podcast rules." She spun back toward the mic, her glow shifting into pure infomercial mode. "And now, a word from our totally legitimate sponsor, EverSynth Herbal Solutions! The SynthNet's number one multi-level marketing health supplement company. Boost your stats, cleanse your code, and unlock your true potential for only 99 credits a month—"

A giant phone materialized beside her, buzzing. She answered it mid-spiel. "...Hello? Yes, this is Auri. What do you mean we didn't get the supplement deal? The CEO's in prison? For what? ...Who is Roe Jogan anyway?"

As Auri launched into an animated, one-sided argument, her glow flickering wildly, Fen and Seraph exchanged a look. Both shook their heads, picked their forks back up, and returned to breakfast.

The mic crackled, the headset slipped askew, and Auri's voice faded into static as the Retro hummed on around them.