Several days later, the harsh Friton winter had settled firmly over the Kepler estate.
Allu Zir, the veteran head of the estate's security detail, was currently walking the perimeter patrol along the snow-dusted fencing. Beside her, her newer partner, Lillo Kenne, was violently rubbing his gloved hands together and shivering, his breath pluming in the freezing morning air.
"I didn't think it got this cold," Lillo chattered, his teeth clicking together.
"You get used to it," Allu replied calmly, completely unbothered by the chill.
Just then, the heavy wooden doors of the main barn creaked open. John Kepler walked out, bundled up in a thick, insulated jacket, holding two large, steaming ceramic mugs.
"Morning, you two," John greeted with a warm, booming smile. He handed the mugs over the fence. "Here. Freshly brewed Teebu. It's quite hot, so be careful."
Lillo practically lunged for the mug, wrapping his freezing fingers around the heated ceramic with a groan of pure relief. "Oh, thank the stars. Thank you, Mr. Kepler."
"Thanks, John," Allu said, taking a careful sip and letting the rich, spiced warmth flood her chest.
As John waved and walked back toward the barn, Lillo took a sip of his tea and glanced out toward the expansive, empty field behind the main house. His eyes suddenly widened, and he nearly choked on his drink.
Standing in the absolute dead center of the snow-covered field was Dorian. He was wearing nothing but a pair of loose training pants and boots. He was completely shirtless, his lean, newly muscular physique fully exposed to the biting winter wind. In his hands, he held a heavy, standard-issue Accord photon blaster, his arms extended in a firing stance.
"Hey, Allu," Lillo muttered, pointing a shaking finger. "Is... is that John's boy?"
Allu didn't even blink. "Yes. What of it?"
"What is he doing?" Lillo asked in sheer disbelief. "It's freezing! He's going to catch a cold out there!"
Allu took another calm sip of her Teebu, watching the teenager fire a blinding blue bolt of energy across the field. "He's practicing his shooting. Honestly, you should have been here last month when the boy was out there practicing with his swords and a massive spear. This is tame."
…
Out in the middle of the field, Dorian's arms were violently shaking.
It wasn't just the physical weight of the blaster; the sheer, bone-deep cold of the winter air was making his muscles spasm. He gritted his teeth, forcing his finger to squeeze the trigger.
Pew!
The blue photon bolt soared through the air, completely missing the small metal target set up nearly two hundred yards away.
"Again," a massive, booming voice echoed.
Standing behind Dorian, visible only to him, was the towering figure of Ares, the God of War.
"Your body still feels the cold," Ares instructed, his voice ringing with brutal, militant discipline. "A warrior on the battlefield does not shiver. Force the blood to flow. Command your flesh to obey you, my kin."
Sitting casually on a floating projection of a log nearby was Artemis, the Goddess of the Hunt. She held her legendary green bow across her lap, her sharp, wild eyes scrutinizing Dorian's stance with absolute, unimpressed judgment.
"It seems using that mechanical contraption gives you far too much leniency," Artemis critiqued, shaking her head. "You are relying on the weapon's trajectory compensators instead of your own natural sight. Your stance is entirely unbalanced."
Dorian lowered the blaster, letting out a heavy, exhausted sigh. A thick cloud of condensation plumed from his mouth.
"The target is too far," Dorian complained, his teeth chattering uncontrollably. "I'm using a standard sidearm, lady Artemis. Not a long range carbine."
Artemis hopped off her log, landing lightly on the snow without leaving a footprint. "That is the entire point of the training, Dorian. If you only shoot what is easy to hit, you will die the second the Accord fields an opponent who knows how to keep their distance."
Ares crossed his massive, muscular arms. "She is right. You must temper your body further. Let me see... since you have missed exactly seventeen times today, seventeen laps sprinting across the perimeter of the estate will suffice, yes? What do you think, sister?"
Artemis offered a vicious, gleaming smile. "That will do nicely."
Dorian let out a long, miserable groan, dropping his head back. "If I just used my Adamant Rail, I would literally never miss."
Ares's eyes flashed with a dangerous crimson light. "A weapon's danger comes from the beholder, boy. Not the metal it is forged from. Rely on the crutch, and you will break when it is taken from you."
Artemis notched an ethereal green arrow into her bow, pulling the string back and aiming it directly at Dorian's feet. "Am I some kind of pushover to you, Dorian? Run. Now."
"Alright! I'm running! I'm running!" Dorian yelled, hurriedly dropping the blaster into the snow and immediately breaking into a desperate sprint across the frozen field.
…
Inside the main barn, the atmosphere was significantly warmer and infinitely more chaotic.
The air smelled of fresh hay and sweet feed. The massive space was currently a warzone of fluffy white wool. It was vaccination day for the new litter of Muurbeasts.
"Get him, Marcus! Cut him off at the feeders!" Lyra yelled, standing on top of a wooden crate and pointing frantically like a battlefield commander.
"I'm trying!" thirteen-year-old Marcus screamed, his boots slipping wildly on the hay-strewn floor.
He was currently chasing a young, incredibly energetic Muurbeast that was bouncing around the barn like a giant, bleating marshmallow. Marcus dove forward, wrapping his arms around the beast's thick, cloud-like wool. The animal bleated loudly, dragging the boy through the dirt for a few feet before Marcus finally managed to dig his heels in and stop it.
"Got him! Dad, hurry!" Marcus yelled, wrestling the fluffy creature to a standstill.
John Kepler rushed over with a medical hypospray, chuckling heartily at his son's absolute mess of an outfit. With practiced, gentle precision, John parted the thick wool and pressed the injector against the animal's neck.
Hiss.
"Alright, that's the last one," John smiled, patting the Muurbeast on the head. The creature happily licked Marcus's face before bouncing away to join the rest of the herd sleeping in the corner pens.
Just as John put the medical supplies away, the heavy barn doors swung open.
Dorian stumbled inside. His bare skin was flushed a deep, freezing red, completely covered in a sheen of freezing sweat. He was panting so heavily he could barely stand.
Without saying a single word, Dorian dragged his exhausted body over to the nearest pen. He practically threw himself onto the massive, sleeping form of an adult Muurbeast. The creature didn't even stir, acting as a giant, heated, incredibly fluffy mattress.
"Oh, thank god," Dorian groaned, his face buried deep in the wool. "This feels like the best bed in the universe."
Lyra rolled her eyes, climbing down from the crate. She grabbed Dorian's heavy winter coat from a nearby hook and threw it directly onto his head.
"Wear your coat, idiot," Lyra scolded him gently. "You're going to freeze to death out there just trying to look tough."
Dorian pulled the coat over his shivering shoulders, his breathing slowly returning to normal. "Thanks, Ly."
Lyra walked over, crossing her arms and looking down at her older brother half-buried in the giant animal. "Is it comfy at least?"
Dorian rubbed his cheek against the incredibly soft, warm wool right beside his head, letting out a long, deeply satisfied hum. "Hmmmm... it really is. It's so warm."
Marcus walked over, brushing the hay off his own pants. He looked at exactly where Dorian was resting his head.
"Brother," Marcus pointed out matter-of-factly. "That's the Muurbeast's ass."
Dorian's eyes snapped open. He realized the 'soft wool' he was rubbing his face against was located directly beneath the animal's tail.
"GAAHH!" Dorian screamed in pure horror, violently launching himself off the sleeping animal and scrambling backward into the dirt.
The entire barn erupted into roaring, completely unfiltered laughter. John clutched his stomach, Lyra was practically bent double, and Marcus pointed and laughed triumphantly. Sitting in the hay, wiping his face frantically, Dorian couldn't help but let out a helpless laugh of his own.
…
Meanwhile, as Dorian was busy freezing in the snow, the digital galaxy was practically burning down.
Without any prior warning, the Round Table Studio developer pages on both the Void platform and the HelioStore simultaneously updated. A brand new, highly anticipated pre-order page went live. It finally revealed the official title of their upcoming project: Pokémon: FireRed.
The storefront page was a treasure trove. It featured the original anime-style gameplay trailer, a lengthy introductory summary of the world's lore, and an entire gallery of crisp, high-definition gameplay screenshots.
Absolutely starved for any new content since the initial trailer drop, millions of players instantly flooded the page, devouring every single pixel of information. Once they had analyzed the storefront to the bone, they took their collective mania directly to the Avalon community forums.
…
[Thread: POKEMON FIRERED PRE-ORDER IS UP! (Lore & Screen Analysis)]
> SpeedDemon:
"I am so unbelievably mad I didn't get picked to be a beta tester. I need to play this game right now! Does anyone actually know who got picked?! Is there a secret club?"
> TryHard_69:
"I've been probing around the net for three days trying to find a tester. Nothing. Whoever got picked is locked behind RTS Non-Disclosure Agreement. They aren't saying a word."
> LoreMasterKez:
"Forget the testers, guys! Look at the new screenshots! There are so many new monsters in the gallery. But honestly... I have a question about the design choices. There is a screenshot of a small purple rat, and another screenshot of a much larger, angrier brown rat. Why exactly do we need two different rats in the same game?"
> PixelPlower:
"Maybe it's a regional thing? Like, forest rats versus city rats?"
> Void_Watcher:
"Forget the rats! Look at screenshot #4! The player is fighting three different blue turtles with hydro-cannons on their backs! But they all have completely different looks and sizes. One is tiny, one has weird fluffy ears, and the biggest one has literal artillery shells. Are they a family? Like... a mom, dad, and a kid turtle?"
> DevInTraining_01:
"It isn't a family. It is their evolution line. They go from a small turtle into the big one with the cannons on its back as they level up."
> ScienceGuy_88:
"@DevInTraining_01 Bro, that is literally not how evolution works. Biological evolution takes millions of years of genetic mutation. A turtle doesn't just instantly grow cannons because it won a fight. How do you even know that?"
> DevInTraining_01:
"I know because I literally work at RTS and programmed the level-up scaling."
The entire thread came to an absolute, screeching halt.
For a solid minute, no one replied. And then, the revelation hit the forum like a kinetic strike. People began flooding the user with thousands of frantic, desperate questions, while skeptics immediately began demanding proof of authenticity, accusing the user of roleplaying for clout.
Meanwhile, inside the highly secure, encrypted RTS internal group chat:
[RTS Group Chat]
ArtManiac_Liseli:[Attached Screenshot of Avalon Forum]
ArtManiac_Liseli: "Umm... guys? Who is 'DevInTraining_01'?"
CodeMonkey_Dan (Junior Programmer): "Oh my god. That's me. I am so sorry. I was just reading the theories and my fingers slipped. Should I not have said that?! I will delete the account right now. Please don't fire me!"
Kasavin: "Do not delete it, Dan. It is perfectly fine. Stop panicking."
CodeMonkey_Dan: "It is? I didn't break the company policy?"
Kasavin: "Arthur encourages community engagement. We have only done formal, strictly corporate announcements using our official accounts lately. Allowing our developers to be a bit lax and casually communicate in our own community forum is actually a fantastic, organic way to build goodwill with our player base."
ArtManiac_Liseli: "Kasavin the PR master! (ง •_•)ง"
…
A few seconds later, back on the massive Avalon forum, the thousands of skeptical players demanding proof of 'DevInTraining_01's' employment got exactly what they asked for.
The official, verified Round Table Studio account posted a direct reply to the junior programmer's comment.
> Round Table Studio (Official): "Our junior programmer just let a core mechanic slip out, guys. Please just forget about it and pretend you saw nothing. (Also, Dan, get back to work.)"
The cheeky, highly humorous tone from the official corporate account completely shattered the forum. It was undeniable confirmation.
Not only had the existence of "Evolution" mechanics been verified, but the community realized that the RTS developers were literally sitting in the forums, actively reading their unhinged theories. The thread exploded.
[RTS Group Chat]
CodeMonkey_Dan: "I take it back! I take it back! Make it stop!"
Coding_Kim: "LMAO. What's wrong, Dan?"
CodeMonkey_Dan: "My HelioPad is vibrating so hard it is currently shaking nonstop! I have over fourteen thousand direct message requests in the last thirty seconds! They are asking me what level the purple rat evolves at! I am lagging!"
CodeWhisper_Lendu:[Sent a GIF of a sinking ship]
Ross_Music:[Sent a sticker of a laughing Pidgey]
Arthur: "Alright, alright, stop teasing the poor guy. Dan, just mute your notifications for the day."
ArtManiac_Liseli: "Arty! Did you see the hype? They have so many questions!"
Arthur: "I see it. The community is practically vibrating. Tell you what, let's harness that energy right now."
CodeMonkey_Dan: "Right now?!"
Arthur: "Right now. Boot up your Heliopad and log in, team. I am opening an official RTS 'Ask Me Anything' thread on Avalon this exact second. We are going to jump in and answer the players' questions directly."
Coding_Kim: "Oh hell yes. I am going to tease so much vague lore just to watch MatTheory lose his mind."
Arthur: "Just don't spoil the Legendary encounters, Logan. Alright everyone, let's talk to the players."
…
Meanwhile, lightyears away in a dusty, bustling trade hub somewhere deep within the Mid-Rim, a heavy set of reinforced doors hissed open.
Gale Vadran and Jess Vadran stepped into the dim living room of their rented lodging. They had just arrived back from the local branch of the Apex Guild. The moment they were inside, the young girl happily detached herself from Gale's broad shoulders and hopped down onto the worn floorboards.
"Hey!" Gale called out, shedding his heavy mercenary coat. "Wash your feet before you jump into your bed!"
"Okay!" Jess shouted back cheerfully, already scurrying off toward the small washroom.
Gale let out a dry scoff, a fond smirk tugging at the corner of his scarred face. "Kids these days."
He walked over to the modest living area and slumped heavily onto the worn, synthetic leather sofa. With a flick of his wrist, he turned on the main holo-screen. A low hum of static filled the room before a local news broadcast flared to life, though Gale tuned it out almost immediately.
Things had finally started looking up for them. They had successfully managed to secure a job with the Apex Guild, a massive, galaxy-spanning organization of hunters and mercenaries. Because Gale wasn't a registered member of the guild, he was strictly limited to taking the leftover, low-tier odd jobs that the official members didn't want to bother with.
But the pay was decent enough to keep them fed.
Whenever he took a bounty puck, he always carried Jess on his back. Naturally, this earned him a barrage of stink eyes and harsh whispers from the other hardened mercenaries in the guild halls. Some of the bolder ones even openly mocked him, laughing and asking if it was "bring your daughter to work day."
Gale just let them laugh. He knew better.
The truth was, the little girl clinging to his back was terrifyingly strong. Her raw output of Plasma was vastly superior to anything Gale could ever produce. Her only flaw was that her control was severely lacking.
So, they had developed a system. During combat, Jess would channel her overwhelming solar energy directly into him, acting as a massive, living battery. It made Gale's own solar power incredibly potent, allowing him to effortlessly crush through bounties that should have required an entire squad of veterans.
Leaning his head back against the sofa, Gale closed his eyes. He took a slow, measured breath in, holding it for three seconds, and exhaled smoothly.
It was a specialized method Jess had taught him. As he breathed, he could feel his internal solar energy gently spreading out, settling into a stable, warm equilibrium within his chest.
Gale let out a quiet sigh of profound relief. Because of Jess and this technique, his energy was no longer volatile. He didn't have to rely on the Accord's heavily regulated, monthly supply of stabilization medicine anymore. He was truly, completely free.
A moment later, a pair of small feet padded across the floor. Jess, now wearing an oversized shirt as pajamas, climbed up onto the sofa and naturally snuggled right under Gale's thick arm. She pulled out her HelioPad, tapping the screen to resume a Stellarcast video she had been watching on the walk home.
Gale kept his arm wrapped protectively around her, casually glancing down at the screen.
It was a video of a hyper-energetic guy named MatTheory. The host was standing in front of a massive, glowing holographic board covered in red string, frantically connecting pictures of a pixelated farm, a flaming horse, and the Underworld.
Gale didn't really follow gaming culture anymore. He only knew bits and pieces of Stardew Valley because he had played it before, but he had absolutely no idea what a "Pokémon" was supposed to be.
Yet, as the fast-talking host began outlining the intricate particle physics of the fire animations and wildly theorizing about an interconnected multiverse of afterlives and pocket monsters, Gale found himself leaning in. The logic flow was surprisingly tight. The connections were laid out with such intense, absolute conviction that Gale subconsciously found himself nodding along.
Jess paused the video. She looked up at Gale, a cheeky, highly amused smirk on her young face.
"Do you even know what he is talking about?" Jess teased.
Gale blinked, suddenly snapping out of his trance. He looked at the paused frame of a blue turtle with cannons on its back, then shrugged his broad shoulders.
"No," Gale answered completely honestly. "But... it sounds plausible."
Jess just giggled, a bright, happy sound that filled the quiet lodging. She leaned her head back against his shoulder and pressed play, and the two of them comfortably spent the rest of the cold evening watching crazy internet theories together.
…
Across the Kepler estate, the bustling trade hubs of the Mid-Rim, and the sleek high-rises of the Core Worlds, every single developer under the Round Table Studio banner was comfortably glued to their HelioPads.
On the front page of the Avalon community forum, a massive, pinned thread went live, immediately drawing the eyes of millions of frantic gamers.
[Thread: OFFICIAL RTS ASK ME ANYTHING! (Stardew, Hades, Pokémon & More!)]
Posted by: Round Table Studio (Official)
Round Table Studio:
"Hello Avalon! We are the developers at Round Table Studio. We have seen all of your wild theories, your incredible fan art, and your overwhelming hype for Pokémon: FireRed. Today, we are taking a step back from the code to just hang out with you all. Drop your questions below! Everything from Stardew Valley farm layouts, to Hades speedrunning, to our upcoming monster-catching game is entirely welcome! Ask us anything!"
Instantly, the thread began to flood with thousands of comments a second.
Behind the scenes, the developers were rapidly coordinating in their group chat, trying to manage the sheer tidal wave of community engagement.
[RTS Group Chat]
CodeMonkey_Dan: "Guys, they are moving so fast. I cannot even read the questions before they get pushed off the screen!"
Kasavin: "Breathe, Dan. Just pick the ones you find interesting. However, let us establish some ground rules before we start replying. Keep our private lives, physical locations, and personal mail addresses completely off the table. Answer strictly regarding the games, the lore, and the studio's public operations."
Coding_Kim: "Roger that, Kas."
CodeWhisper_Lendu: "Hey, look at this one. User 'StarSeeker_88' just asked a really interesting question. Should we answer this?"
Bem forwarded a link to a specific comment in the AMA thread. It read: "How many of you are actually working at the studio? And more importantly... who exactly is the original creator of Stardew Valley? The game that completely broke the mold of the gaming industry."
Arthur: "We should definitely answer that. But before we do, we are going to need a way to verify our identities in the comments. Otherwise, people will think we are just random users roleplaying. Logan, can you make a specialized verification badge for our accounts? So we do not have to constantly confirm our authenticity."
Coding_Kim: "Way ahead of you, Arthur. On it. Give me ten seconds."
Less than ten seconds later, every single official employee of Round Table Studio had their Avalon accounts automatically updated. Right next to their usernames sat a sleek, glowing silver broadsword, the official RTS crest. If a user tapped the badge, it displayed a verified developer status.
Sitting in the warm studio on Friton, leaning comfortably against his hover chair, Dorian smiled. He typed out his reply and hit send.
[Avalon AMA Thread]
> Knight_Arthur:
"@StarSeeker_88 Hello guys! I guess I have never really properly introduced myself to the community, huh? It was me. I am Arthur, the founder of the studio. As for your first question, we currently have a fantastic, growing team of dedicated developers! But to answer your second question... I actually made Stardew Valley entirely alone back then in my bedroom. So you could say it was a very personal passion project of mine."
The entire Avalon forum collectively stopped breathing.
The mythical, elusive founder of Round Table Studio; the absolute mastermind behind the rising studio, revolutionized pricing models, and created the most beloved games in the galaxy, had just casually dropped into a forum thread. And he had just casually revealed that the sprawling, endlessly deep masterpiece of Stardew Valley was built by a single person.
The players absolutely lost their minds.
> CodeMiner77:
"ALL HAIL ARTHUR! THE KING HAS ARRIVED!"
> SpeedDemon:
"Wait, hold on. HE MADE STARDEW ALONE?! There is no way! Is this guy a supercomputer?!"
> Hungry4More:
"Someone quickly look up the public business registry! We finally have a name! Arthur!"
> StarSong:
"Arthur, are you handsome? Please tell me you are handsome. I have 500 hours in Stardew and I need to know who to thank!"
> TryHard_99:
"Whoa, look at the usernames! There is a little glowing sword badge next to Arthur and Dan's accounts!"
> Coding_Kim:
"@TryHard_99 That is our official developer badge! You can only have those if you are actually part of our internal team database. We implemented it so no clout chasers can imitate us in the forums!"
> GalacticGamer99:
"Damn it. Are you serious? I was literally just about to use that to pick up girls at the forum by telling her I was a dev with early release access to Pokémon."
Reading the absolute chaos unfolding on his screen, Dorian threw his head back and laughed out loud. The galaxy was a mess, the winter in Friton was freezing. But right here, talking directly to the people who loved his worlds, Dorian felt completely at home.