In space, a passenger cruiser flew fast as the wind.
Overseer 2 sat back in his chair, and observed the world rushing by. Around him, sweaty people sat. Some were refugees from a seemingly endless war around the Admin Planet; some were tourists; and some were just natives of this system doing what they did best, which was building.
He sighed as a wave of homesickness washed over him. It tumbled down onto the beach that was his heart, and swept away all the worries that were in this case represented by rude drawings in the sand.
Overseer 2 was home.
This was the Builder's System. But the system was about so much more than just building. It was fighting, and destruction, and bad deeds. But it was also a place of good deeds, silent miracles, people who would die to save a loved one. It was his old stomping ground, and he was ready to settle here for good. His adventures were over. Ever since the end of the conflict on Robloxia he had wanted to escape life there and resume it here. But he'd been delayed somehow, again and again. Well, now was his chance. He was itching to take it.
Stars flashed past. One in particular shone bright and close, like a gem of amber. It was the sun of Builder's System, flashing off the planets in orbit around it, glinting on the gem-covered asteroids and moons. Overseer 2 remembered that star. He'd flown there once, and since the sun's outer layers weren't deadly to Robloxians he had stopped the ship and climbed out onto the roof to bask in the warm rays. A golden mist had swirled around him, and he had been content to sit there forever. But duty called. He had needed to build a water well for Lime Green, and so Overseer 2 had fled.
The passenger cruiser slowed as it entered the clear blue skies of Spawn World, and started its descent. Grass rustled and bent as the passenger cruiser touched down on the surface. The door opened. People began to disembark.
Overseer 2 stepped out into a crowded day on Spawn World. But it was different from what he remembered long ago. There were new posters and billboards strung up all over the place. One of them said, in big bold letters, "ASSASSINS: WE MAKE YOUR DAY GO AWAY". Still another proclaimed: "DESERT STAR is here to rid the worlds of evil!"
"War propaganda?" Overseer 2 said to himself. "That can't be right."
War groups were a thing mainly restricted to wealthy, powerful systems. Builder's System couldn't be called wealthy and powerful, not by a long way. The finances of Robloxia's Adminship totaled at 300,000,000,000,000 Robux; here, the lesser adminship totaled at just 5,000,000. So who could be so driven as to fight over control of this little system, and who else could be so driven as to fight back?
He walked into a cafe, which he didn't remember from the past.
It was smoky, noisy, and glowing with the tips of several dozen lit cigars. Overseer 2 coughed, and walked up to the bartop. The bartender, a man with five different baseball caps slung over his head, turned to greet him.
"Want a smoke?" he asked, holding out a cigar of immense proportions, almost a blox long.
"No, I'm good," declined Overseer 2. And then, on a whim, he added: "Why's there all this military propaganda stuff?"
"You haven't heard?" said the bartender in disbelief, simultaneously handing a drink to a patron with seventeen cigars in his mouth. "The adminship's introduced factions!"
"Factions?" asked Overseer 2.
"Yeah," said the bartender. "Like little war groups, only less big. Ten or twenty people per faction, I'm told. But they're recruiting more."
"I noticed on the descent," said Overseer 2, "that there were some buildings that were kind of... gutted."
"Aye, it's a warzone over here, too. Just be careful who you talk to," said the bartender.
"I'm not affiliated," said Overseer 2.
"Don't matter," said the bartender. "You just have to be seen talkin' to a Desert Star, and the Assassins'll assassinate you."
"How do I know who's a Desert Star?"
"They'll have an insignia," said the bartender, "on their right shoulder. Looks like a circle with a capital D in the middle, surrounded by eleven rays on the sides."
"Thanks for telling me," said Overseer 2. "Hey, I'll have a Bloxy Cola on the rocks, if you don't mind."
"No problem," laughed the bartender, and he walked boistrously away.
Overseer 2 sat there until his drink was delivered by the bartender, and he nursed it as thoughts went through his mind, thoughts of an older and better System where you weren't assassinated on pain of banishment.
He was in the middle of these thoughts when the door to the bar opened, and some Desert Stars entered. They were carrying laser pistols, and held them in front of them menacingly. Forming a line, they blocked the door so nobody could escape. One of them stepped forward slightly.
"Alright, where's the Assassin?" he yelled.
The Desert Stars cocked their guns. The clicks were the only sound in the foggy room. The bar was dead silent.
"I said WHERE'S THE ASSASSIN!" howled the Desert Star. He fired a shot into the ceiling. One of the bricks that made it up vanished.
"We don't allow Assassins in 'ere," the bartender protested calmly. "Neither do we allow weapons. We're peaceful." He held his hands up. Everyone turned their pockets inside-out, except for Overseer 2 who was already confused.
"I don't quite believe you, mister," snarled the Desert Star. He fired a laser into the Bartender's chest, and the man fell backwards and hit his head on the edge of the bar. A red stain of blood oozed out of the dead man's head and chest.
"Search 'em," barked the Desert Star. The other troops stepped forward and began to throw patrons to the ground, strip-searching them roughly. "Crafty Assassins," muttered the Desert Star vehemently. "Concealed weapons, trickery, that's all they have..."
Overseer 2 was grabbed behind the neck. However, a strong back from his training as a Spammer during the obligatory obstacle courses prevented him from being wrenched down to the floor. The troop looked into his face.
"GET DOWN!" he roared. "You insubordinate PRICK!"
"Screw you," said Overseer 2, and uppercutted him. The rest of the troops surned to stare, and then fired at where Overseer 2 had been. But he was gone. He had already swept up the unconscious foe's weapon and killed another Desert Star troop. The leader howled and pointed at him. The guards concentrated their fire. Overseer 2 scooped up another pistol and, dual wielding, began to combat the guards.
"Everybody, the back way!" he ordered. "Move!"
The patrons scrambled upright and dashed to the back exit. When the bar was cleared, Overseer 2 grabbed a bottle of Space Whiskey and threw it. In midair he aimed and shot the bottle, which exploded. Two Desert Stars were caught in a quickly growing cloud of broken glass and burning alcohol.
"Who are you?!" screamed the Desert Star.
"Someone who likes the old ways," said Overseer, and shot him in the head.
As the limp body fell like a rag, he picked it up and swung it at the fleeing Desert Star troops. They were hit by the projectile body and were knocked out on the doorframe. Then all was quiet. Some small fires burned, making the air more smoky. They were creeping ever closer to the shelf of drinks. Overseer 2 tried to open the door to let the smoke out, but it was stuck on the clothes and armor of a Desert Star troop.
Fine, if that was how it was, then so be it.
He leaped upwards at the bar's low ceiling. He didn't dare fire a shot, which combined with the vaporized alcohol and the other particulates floating around would blow the entire place to ribbons with him inside it. Instead, he knocked a perfectly calculated hole in the ceiling with the butt of the pistol. Overseer 2 siezed a barstool, swung it under his feet, and shot upwards through the hole. He landed akwardly on the tiled roof, staggered, regained balance, and peered down the hole. The troops were slowly moving their limbs. Overseer 2 took a deep breath and fired a laser down into the smoke-filled bar. He ran and jumped just as the roof heaved under his feet. As he jumped, a lick of heat ruffled his brown hair. He landed in the dirt, rolled, and stared up at the billowing fiery explosion filled with glass and blocks and pain.
All in all, his return was going better than he'd expected.