Guild of shadows and cheese poker

— I’m on comms, boss, Gadget said. — The casino system… incredibly complex. But I see loopholes. MiauMaster is hosting the stream from the central table. Viewers… god, several billion connections. This is half the sentient galaxy.

— Excellent, Cheddar muttered, walking down the transparent corridor. Around him other avatars floated — strange, abstract, terrifying or funny. This was the scum of the digital universe. — The more viewers, the more chance someone among them knows something useful. Or that MiauMaster himself slips up.

— Be careful with formulations, Shadow warned. — Live broadcast. Every word is analyzed. Algorithms track engagement.

Cheddar entered the main hall. It looked like a giant amphitheater, but instead of seats — countless floating windows with viewer avatars, their comments ran down the walls in a waterfall of text. In the center, on a elevation, stood a lone poker table with green cloth. Three figures were already seated at it. And one — was standing.

The one standing was MiauMaster.

Live (if this word applies to a hologram) he was smaller than on the screen. A young cat, almost a kitten, with incredibly fluffy aquamarine fur, which he was clearly adjusting in a graphic editor. He wore a fashionable, glowing jacket with a hood, studded with mini-screens, on which the main stream metrics were immediately displayed: number of viewers, likes, donations. His eyes, huge and green, looked not at the players, but at a floating invisible window with a chat that poured at the speed of thought.

— Yo-ho-ho, friends! he shouted in a shrill but put-on voice, addressing the camera. — Look who joined us! A real legend! The one who made Count Meus a meme! Rat-detective CHEDDAR! Give him applause, brothers and sisters! Hashtag #CheddarInCasino!

A wave of virtual applause, explosions of emojis and likes rolled over the walls. Cheddar felt his digital skin tingle slightly — the system was transmitting “feedback”.

He nodded, trying to look calm, and took a free seat at the table. The other players were no less colorful: Gray Cloud — an avatar in the form of a cloud with a pair of piercing eyes, radiating an aura of mystery; Sir Vint — an old, battered robot with one camera instead of a head, quietly crackling; and Golden Tongue — a smooth, oily humanoid figure who constantly smiled, showing perfect holographic teeth.

— Glad to join, Cheddar said, his voice sounding clear and even on air.

— Rules are simple as a cheese crust, friend! MiauMaster clapped his paws. He didn’t sit, he fluttered around the table like a hyperkinetic butterfly. — This is “Cheese Poker”! Each round — a new cheese variety, chosen by a random generator! Players take turns telling a story related to this cheese. Personal, scary, funny, instructive — doesn’t matter! But it must be ENGAGING! The audience is our judge! Likes, hearts, fire — your currency! Whoever gains more engagement by the end of the round — takes the bank! And the bank — is information! Today’s jackpot — access to my personal… archives about some dark organizations. — He winked. — Let’s start! First cheese… oh, magnificent! The generator gives us… “Stinky Brie from Planet Camembert-4”!

A hologram of cheese materialized on the table — a huge, creamy head with a white mold crust. Even in digital space, a phantom, saturated smell seemed to float from it. Cheddar wrinkled his nose.

— Who’s first? MiauMaster looked at the players. — Senior starts! Sir Vint, you’ve been in the game long!

The robot creaked, its camera-head turned to the cheese. — Analysis… “Stinky Brie”. Association… year 3045 galactic. Mission to Camembert-4. Crew… ate local delicacy. Life support systems… clogged. Smell… penetrated memory. To this day… in оперативной memory. File: “smell_of_horror. dat”. Story… exists. Telling.

The robot’s voice was monotonous, but there was horror in it. He told about how his crew explored caves where that very brie matured, how the smell was so strong it disabled sensors, how they got lost, orienting only by… stench. The story was technical, detailed, but devoid of emotion. Comments in the chat were boring: “Boring”, “Robot is robot”, “Where’s action?”. His engagement counter barely crawled.

Next was Gray Cloud. She exuded mystery. Her story was about a ghost of an ancient cheese factory, who appeared in the form of a cloud with the smell of brie and predicted fate. The story was mystical, beautifully presented. The chat livened up: “Wow!”, “Creepy!”, “Believe!”. The counter went faster.

Golden Tongue told a dirty but incredibly funny anecdote about a cheese merchant and a farm woman. He gestured, changed voices, was artistic. The chat exploded with laughter, likes, laughing emojis. His engagement skyrocketed.

And now Cheddar’s turn. Billions of eyes (and cameras) looked at him. MiauMaster flew very close, his camera catching every micro-mimicry in close-up.

— Well, hero? he hissed, but so everyone could hear. — Your turn. Surprise us. Tell about “Stinky Brie”. But just remember — here they value not feats, but zest. #Pressure

Cheddar looked at the cheese hologram. Then at the chat, where comments were already flashing: “Come on, cheese cop!”, “Intrigue!”, “Surely a boring service anecdote”.

And Cheddar began. Not with a detective story. With a personal one.

— You know, he said quietly, and his voice, unexpectedly devoid of pathos, made the chat quiet down a bit. — “Stinky Brie”… I don’t have a investigation story connected with it. But a story of shame. My first big failure.

He paused, letting the words hang.

— I was young and stupid. I wanted to impress… one lady. Decided to arrange a candlelight dinner. The most romantic cheese I knew — this one, brie. Bought a whole head. Brought home. Didn’t know one thing: this variety needs airing. Good airing. I left it in the kitchen, in a closed box… and went to cook everything else.

He paused again. There were no more mocks in the chat. There was: “Oh”, “Continue”, “What happened?”.

— When I returned… the smell. It was everywhere. It ate into the wallpaper, into the curtains, into my only good shirt. It was so concentrated, it seemed it could be cut with a knife. And that lady… she had allergic senses. She entered, took one breath… and vomited. Right on the threshold. On my new shoes.

Explosion in the chat. But not laughter, but some sympathetic hysteria. “OOOOH NO!”, “Poor guy!”, “That’s cruel!”, “And the lady?”.

— The lady, Cheddar said with a light, sad smile, — said that I probably secretly breed chemical weapons, and never talked to me again. And I aired this stench from the apartment for three weeks. Since then “Stinky Brie” I eat only outdoors. And with very, very good ventilation. And never — for romance.

The story was simple, human (rat), about failure, about shame. There was no heroism. There was vulnerability. And the chat loved it. Cheddar’s engagement shot up, overtaking even the artistic Golden Tongue. People put hearts, crying smileys, wrote: “I messed up like that once too!”, “Real hero is one who admits his flaws!”, “Now I love Cheddar even more!”.

MiauMaster looked at the metrics, and his smile became a bit frozen. He expected heroic tales, and got a confession. This was fresh. This was… viral.

— O-o-okay! he drawled. — Unexpected twist! Cheddar surges into the leaders of the first round! But this is only a warm-up! Next cheese… “Moon Blue from Enceladus”! Rarest, most expensive! And the round theme… “Loss”!

Cheddar felt a chill. “Loss”? Too leading. But the game continued. This time the stories were different: Sir Vint told about losing cargo with this cheese in a meteorite storm (boring). Gray Cloud — about a legend how a whole civilization lost the recipe (mystical). Golden Tongue — about how he “lost” conscience, selling a fake (cynical and funny).

Cheddar, when his turn came, again went an unexpected way.

— “Moon Blue”, he said, looking at the shimmering hologram. — I didn’t lose it. I… gave it away. To a thief.

Question marks in the chat.

— It was long ago, I was working on a smuggling case. Caught a thief, young, hungry, who stole a piece of this cheese not for sale, but to feed his old, sick mother. They had no money even for bread. And she, as it turned out, before dying dreamed of trying exactly “Moon Blue”, about which she read in an old book.

Cheddar paused. There were no more words in the chat, only streams of hearts and crying emojis.

— I could have jailed him. By law — should have. But… I looked at this piece of cheese. And at him. And gave the cheese. Said: “Take it to mother. Say you found it. And then… come to me and work off the debt. Cleaning my ship”. He came. Worked it off. Then… went to study to be a cheese maker. Now makes decent cheddar on one of Jupiter’s moons. Sometimes sends me a head. So I didn’t lose cheese. I acquired… a person.

This was not a detective story. This was a parable. About mercy. About how even law has a cheese heart. The chat howled with delight. Engagement was off the charts. MiauMaster looked at Cheddar with a new, evaluating look. This rat played not by their rules. He played deeper.

— Delightful! Simply delightful! MiauMaster shouted, but there was already a false note in his delight. — What depth! What… humanity! Friends, do you see? Our hero is not just a cool detective, he… a philosopher! #CheeseSage

Third round. Cheese: “Fiery Cheddar from volcanic plantations of Io”. Theme: “Betrayal”.

Stories became harder. Golden Tongue told how his partner betrayed him, stealing a patent for cheese (viciously). Gray Cloud — about a volcano spirit who betrays his priest (confusingly). Sir Vint — about a logic failure, which he called “betrayal of self” (unclearly).

And again Cheddar. He was on edge. The theme “betrayal” hung in the air like a cloud. He thought about Meus. About the Guild. About how they, possibly, play not just poker, but someone else’s game.

— Betrayal, he began, and his voice became hard as rock. — This is when those you trust turn out not to be who they seem. I didn’t have a personal story about “Fiery Cheddar”. But I have a story about… an ice wall. Which looked like salvation, but turned out to be a trap.

He told. Without naming names, without indicating the planet. He told about Count Meus. About how he offered them an “ideal world” under a dome. How it looked like salvation for his people. And in reality was betrayal of everything living, betrayal of the very spirit of Mars, betrayal of freedom. He spoke not about himself, but about the treachery of an idea covered by good.

— And you know what’s the scariest? he finished, looking straight into MiauMaster’s camera. — Sometimes betrayal doesn’t come with sword and fire. It comes with a dance. With a smile. With a beautiful picture that says: “Everything will be fine, just trust me”. But behind this picture — emptiness. Cold. Control. This is what real betrayal is. It doesn’t wound the body. It poisons the soul.

Silence hung in the hall. Even the chat froze for a second. This was no longer a story. This was an accusation. Encoded, but recognizable.

MiauMaster stopped smiling. His fluffy snout became serious. He looked at Cheddar, and something flickered in his green eyes. Not malice. Something more complex. Respect? Warning?

— Deep, he finally said, and his voice lost its shrillness. — Very… deep. Round over. By engagement… Cheddar wins. By a large margin.

A holographic key materialized on the table — access to the archives.

— Jackpot is yours, detective, MiauMaster said, and new notes appeared in his tone. — But the game… is just beginning. You won access. But can you use it? Archives — they are alive. They are guarded not by code. They are guarded by… Attention.

He raised his paw, and the wall behind him came to life. A giant, all-seeing Eye manifested on it. But this was not just an eye. It was an interface. Hashtags, trends, view counts, popularity graphs ran in its pupil. And around the eye — fluttered, like moths, millions of tiny icons: likes, dislikes, reposts, hearts.

— Meet, MiauMaster said, and fatigue sounded in his voice for the first time. — The Power of Attention. It feeds not on energy. Not on data. It feeds… on us. On our interest. On our emotions. The louder the story, the more viral it is, the stronger it is. My archives… this is its pantry. You won the key. But to get to the needed shelf… you will have to pass Through It. And It is very… hungry.

The Eye on the wall slowly turned. Its gaze fell on Cheddar. And Cheddar felt not virtual, but the most real, animal cold. The cold of one who was just seen by something huge, ancient and completely indifferent. Something for which he was just… content.

The poker was over. The real game began now.

Chapter 4: The Power of Attention and the Cyber-Ghost

The Eye. It was everywhere and nowhere. It didn’t look — it scanned. Its pupil, a shimmering whirlpool of trends and hashtags, sucked in everything: their postures, micro-expressions on digital avatars, pulse frequency (transmitted via bio-sensors), even the emotional color of thoughts, caught by the system through elusive brain activity patterns.

Cheddar felt his own, real fur stand on end somewhere far away, in the cockpit of the “Cheese Hole”. This was not a metaphor. The entity MiauMaster called the Power of Attention was a predator. But a predator of a special kind — it hunted not flesh, but narrative. Story. And now it was evaluating them, like a chef evaluating ingredients for a new dish.

— “It’s… reading us,” Gadget’s voice whispered into the hidden mic, full of horror and awe. — This isn’t just a data aggregation algorithm. It’s an emergent artificial intelligence arising from the very flow of information of the “Shadow of the Zodiac”. It is a product of all likes, reposts, comments, views. It knows what people want to see before they realize it themselves. And it… serves it to them.

— So, is this the judge? — asked Cheddar, not taking his eyes off the Eye.

— It is the judge, the executioner, and the director, — MiauMaster answered. His playfulness had disappeared, deflated like a balloon. Now he looked tired, almost aged. — I feed it. My streams, my broadcasts, my provocations — it’s all for it. It gives me an audience. And I give it… food. Your story, Cheddar, about Count Meus… it liked it. It’s juicy. Full of conflict, moral dilemmas, hints of conspiracy. It wants more.

— More of what? — asked Cheddar.

— Drama, — MiauMaster said simply. — Resolution. So you try to access the archives. So it can broadcast it. So the viewers hold their breath. And if you lose… if you get “eaten”… it will be even bigger hype. #FallOfTheHero. Eternal trend.

— So, it’s a trap. You lured us here to feed this… this rating monster.

— I gave you a chance! — MiauMaster suddenly flared up. — You came yourselves! You threw down the challenge! I merely… created conditions. In this world, Cheddar, either you feed the Power of Attention, or it eats you. I chose the first. And you? You want the archives about the Guild? They are there. — He nodded at the Eye. — Behind it. Pass through it. Tell a story that will make it get distracted for a second. Or… become the story yourself.

Cheddar turned, looking at the ghostly figures of the other players. Gray Cloud was already fading, dissolving into digital fog — her engagement was low, she had become uninteresting. Sir Vint was slowly driving away from the table, his motors quietly whining. Golden Tongue was smiling, but his smile was glassy; he understood that the show had moved to a new level where his obscene anecdotes were useless.

— Team, — Cheddar said quietly into the mic. — Did you hear?

— We saw, — Shadow’s voice answered. It was calm, analytical. — The entity has no physical core. It is distributed across the entire “Shadow of the Zodiac” network. Nothing to attack. It can only be… deceived.

— How? — Spark asked. — Blow up the main server?

— There is no main server, — Gadget said. — But there are patterns. It reacts to narratives. To stories. MiauMaster is right — it is hungry for content. We can create a distracting narrative. So loud, so viral, that it will switch to it, leaving the archives unprotected.

— Fake news? — Cheddar suggested.

— No, — Shadow said. — Too crude. Its algorithms will filter it already. We need… something on the verge of truth. Something it will want to believe. What billions of viewers will want to believe.

Cheddar looked at the giant Eye. An idea, daring and desperate, began to form in his head. It was born from his last story. From the theme of “betrayal”.

— MiauMaster, — he said loudly. — You are broadcasting all this. Live?

The cat-streamer nodded, his own gaze glued to the metrics, which now showed crazy growth: billions of new connections. The Power of Attention had clearly signaled its “subscribers”: the main show begins.

— Then I propose a deal, — Cheddar said. — Not to you. To her. — He pointed at the Eye. — I will give you a story. Not about the past. About the present. About what is happening here and now. But with one condition: if the story works, if engagement flies higher than all your records, you will give me not just access to the archives. You will show them to everyone. Live. To all your viewers.

In the chat, which now filled all the walls of the hall, silence fell. Then it was flooded with a wave: “YES!!!”, “WOW!”, “THIS IS INSANE!”, “LIVE BROADCAST OF SECRET ARCHIVES!”, “HASHTAG #TRUTHLIVE”.

The Eye didn’t blink. But in its pupil, the graphs jerked, the lines crawled up. The offer was accepted. The risk — colossal. The reward — unprecedented. The Power of Attention craved exactly this: high stakes, total transparency, impossibility of retreat.

— What are you planning, Cheddar? — MiauMaster asked, and interest appeared in his voice again, almost professional.

— I plan to show everyone who is really behind the Guild, — Cheddar said. — And for this I will need not a key. I will need your help. And… something from our archives. Not about the Guild. About us.

— Explain, — Shadow demanded in his ear, but Cheddar already knew what to do.

— Gadget, — he said. — Do you have everything we recorded on Mars? All negotiations with the Count? All our clashes? Especially… personal moments. When we argued. When I doubted. When Spark almost fried Gadget. When Shadow swore (once, but it happened). Everything raw, unedited.

— Uh… yes, — Gadget answered, stunned. — But this is… this is our personal stuff! It’s unprofessional!

— Exactly, — Cheddar said. — MiauMaster, can you create a hologram? Not perfect. With glitches. With interference. As if it’s a leak. A hack of our personal logs.

Understanding flashed in the cat’s green eyes. He slowly smiled. This was not his former, commercial smile. It was the smile of an accomplice.

— You want to create an alternative narrative, — he whispered. — Not about heroes who defeated the villain. About… a team. A real one. With all glitches, fears, stupidity. You want them to see people. Not icons.

— Yes, — Cheddar nodded. — The Power of Attention feeds on glossy stories. Heroism, villainy, unambiguity. And what if we give it… chaos? Humanity? Real, unedited life? It won’t be able to digest it. Its algorithms will loop. They are created for clickbait, not for confession. It will be like a piece of real, stinky cheese in a sterile digital diet. It will choke.

MiauMaster looked at him with silent admiration. — This… is genius. And insane. If it works, it will lose focus for a second. Its protection on the archives will falter. But if not… it will tear your image to shreds. You will become not heroes, but clowns. Memes forever.

— We are already memes, — Cheddar shrugged. — After your broadcast from Mars. So let’s be memes that we control ourselves. Gadget, start the transmission. MiauMaster, prepare the channel. Shadow, as soon as the protection falters — you are inside. Look for everything related to the Guild, to Meus, to “Project Constellation”. Spark…

— I will make sure no one interferes in real life, — she responded. — Although there seems to be no one to shoot at here.

— There is someone, — Shadow suddenly said. Her voice became sharp. — I am tracking strange data movement on the periphery of our segment. Someone else is watching. Not the Power of Attention. Someone… more specific. The digital trace is similar to… the trace from Meus’s NFT. Only older. Deeper.

— He is here, — Cheddar understood. — Watching. Waiting. Excellent. Let him watch. Let him see how his beautiful digital toy glitches.

MiauMaster waved his paw. The space of the hall transformed around them. They found themselves in a virtual studio — but not a perfect one. Pixels dripped from the ceiling, walls flickered like a bad signal. Several hologram screens hung in the center.

— Starting “leak live broadcast”, — MiauMaster said, and his voice became глух, mysterious. — Friends! You have witnessed the incredible! Our servers have been hacked! Data leak from the board of the ship “Cheese Hole”! Personal logs of the “Cheese Eaters” team! What you would never see in official reports! Watch until blocked! Hashtag #CheeseEatersLeak!

Fragmented frames flickered on the screens. Here is Cheddar, sitting in an old, creaky cabin (before the renovation), banging his fist on the table and shouting: “I don’t know what to do! They all look at me, and I just want to find cheese and eat in peace!”. Here is Spark, crying from anger, because her blaster broke again at the most inappropriate moment. Here is Gadget, in a panic, when his “Sizer” started reducing everything in a row, including his socks. Here is Shadow, standing at the porthole, quietly saying into the void: “Sometimes I forget who I really am. The mask becomes the face”.

These were raw, uncomfortable, shameful moments. Weaknesses. Panic. Stupidity. No heroism.

The chat first exploded: “OMG!”, “SHOCK!”, “I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!”. Then other comments went: “God, they are like us…", “I panic at work too”, “Look, Spark is crying! I thought she was made of iron!”, “Gadget is so cute in his stupid socks!”, “And Shadow… is she lonely?”.