This was it. There was no going back now.

Today was the birth of a new era — and the end of an old one. The end of Neptune's era, that is.

Today was the day that Arfoire had been working towards for the past few months — maybe it had even turned into years.

Whatever it was, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that everything had gone perfectly.

Arfoire had finally done it. The underground chamber she currently resided in filled with her laughter as she surveyed her preparations. She had really done it this time. She had put together something that Gamindustri wouldn't be able to stop, no matter what those pesky goddesses tried to do in response. She knew that she would be able to put a stop to them now that she was going to have this on her side. Her newest, and perhaps greatest, trump card. In just a few short moments, she would be able to welcome it into the world and begin her quest for conquest in earnest.

You see, Gamindustri wasn't wholly controlled by the four great nations of Planeptune, Lastation, Lowee, and Leanbox. There were other areas. Fledgling nations, lands that were barren and aligned to no one, lands with populations but no goddesses of their own, that sort of thing. It was natural for a whole world with only four nations to have some vacancies in the land, was it not?

So Arfoire had taken advantage of it. While the CPUs weren't looking, having scantily clad pillow fights or frolicking in some flower gardens in their underwear or whatever it is those rotten brats did in their free time when they weren't flirting in public but acting like they were really fighting each other (Arfoire saw through it all!), Arfoire got to work. She found an island, untouched by the four great nations but still having a sizable population — enough for now anyway — and began spreading her influence. She began spreading word of a goddess, sent from the heavens and all that nonsensical business, who was going to bring the joys of video games to their island home very, very soon.

Little did they know the truth of the matter — nor would that truth even particularly matter once Arfoire's plan was in full swing.

Now this island's populace all believed. They believed their goddess was coming for them. They believed with all their heart. With that belief, the most important ingredient for the recipe had been given to Arfoire. It had been dropped right into her lap in fact.

And now, with everything she needed, as Arfoire stood in front of what could only be described as an operating table, alone in a secret underground chamber in the dark, dank Basilicom she had had them build, she was going to give them their goddess. All she had to do now...

"INSTALL!"

... was summon the goddess down from the heavens and complete her birth!

The chamber was filled with blindingly bright light. Arfoire was forced to cover her eyes with her arm. She knew in that moment that this had been a success. She didn't even need to look back at the table to know she had completed her objective... but it wouldn't do her any good not to inspect the fruits of her labor, now would it? So she turned.

Laying on the table was a young woman — a girl, even. Her eyes were closed. She looked like she could be asleep, but she was definitely alive. Arfoire watched for a moment, in awe — in awe of her own personal greatness at having actually pulled this insane stunt off — of the fact that the person's chest was moving up and down. They were breathing. They were alive. There was, without any doubt, an honest to goodness person — an honest to goodness goddess — lying on the table, having just been born. Having just been created.

"I did it..." Arfoire grinned to herself. A laugh, vile and full of contempt for her enemies, escaped her lips. "Ha... Hahahaha...! Hahahahahahaha! Take that, Neptune! I can't believe I didn't think of this sooner! If you morons are running around with your 'legitimate' consoles, then I'll just throw a bootleg one at you! Hahaha! You brats won't know what hit you once she's done with you!"

Little did Arfoire know now that that was going to be much sooner applying to her than it would those so-called enemies of hers.

At the sound of Arfoire's voice, the young woman's two eyes opened slowly. She blinked a few times, as if testing out the waters — those waters being her very body itself. Arfoire noted with an annoyed click of her tongue that the girl's eyes didn't match — one was green with a large iris, the cute, googly kind that people went gaga over, like the CPUs had, but the other was a sickly sort of yellow and bloodshot for some reason, with a smaller iris and larger pupil. At least it meant the girl's eyes were the roughly same size, but... Arfoire had heard that heterochromia was an attractive, grabbing feature, but it just looked wrong on this girl. Too late to do anything about it now, she supposed.

"At least her face is cute enough." Arfoire nodded approvingly at those features of the newborn goddess, looking the girl up and down as if she were analyzing a child's art project rather than a living being. Her hair was nothing special, a purple dark enough it could probably be confused for black depending on the lighting — plain and not at all as outstanding as Arfoire would have liked — but still better that than neon with sparkles and multiple streaks of other colors going through it or something idiotic like that. Her skin, on the other hand... While her complexion seemed to somehow be worse than Arfoire's, at least she was young looking. They could fix that pale, nasty, deathly green skin with makeup or cheat codes. Youth was another matter, but this chick had it, and that was enough. That'd get them enough followers to get her plans running smoothly.

Arfoire's gaze traveled lower. The girl was dressed in a simple hospital gown that Arfoire had left on the table, assuming "the heavens" would get the idea, but she knew that the new "CPU" would need some dazzling, eye-catchingly iconic outfit that would make people near and far know who she was just from a look — and that anyone dressing similarly was obviously ripping her off.

In other words, something that looked like all the other CPUs' clothes. That way, if those snots ever tried to show up and claim otherwise, whatever saps were falling for this would just see them for impostors of the real goddess.

That was when, as she continued looking lower, Arfoire noticed something else.

"Oh... Oh... Oh damn it! They're not even the same size!" Swearing after she peeked underneath the gown to make sure, Arfoire kicked an innocent bucket that had been minding its own business nearby the table over, sending it flying across the room. It crashed into some machinery, causing a small explosion, but at this point Arfoire didn't give a damn. Bust size was the kind of thing CPUs' followers fought to the death over! She'd seen it in Lowee and Leanbox! How the hell could she explain this...?! "It's probably not noticeable when she's standing up, but... This can't be right! Is it because the idiots on this island didn't have the same idea for what they wanted her to look like that she wound up like this...?"

It was at this point that the girl finally focused her mismatched eyes on Arfoire. Prior to this point, she had simply been lying there as she was inspected — now she was actually showing signs of sentience. Arfoire wasn't sure if that was good, considering how this was starting to turn out... And she felt something roll over in her stomach just being looked at by them — now she'd have to get this failure of a science project an eye patch on top of everything else too, wouldn't she?

"Mo... Mommy? Are you... My mother...?"

The woman froze.

Mommy?

Did this kid just...

Oh no.

Oh no no no no no.

She was not about to go through something like that. She'd sooner kill this fake CPU before she let it call her mommy and get her to change its diaper.

The girl on the operating table took this action as a sign of acknowledgement. A sign that Arfoire was indeed her mother. For all intents and purposes, this was, technically, the truth. Arfoire was without a doubt the "mother" of this CPU.

"Mommy...! You are my mommy! Hold on, let me get down from here..." And so, before, Arfoire could tell her to stop so she could finish inspecting her, this bootleg little girl, this fake CPU, this godless goddess swung her legs over the side of the operating table and dropped onto the floor, looking up at Arfoire with wide, adoring eyes. Some might have found it cute, even with the blatant mismatch, but Arfoire? She could already feel the incoming headache this was going to be.

"I didn't tell you to get down from there. Know your place." It didn't do much good saying it now, but Arfoire figured it'd be good to establish some kind of power balance between them. This kid may be destined to act as this new nation's goddess, but she had to know who the boss was around here — and it wasn't her. The woman gave her "child" a stern look, to which the girl responded with a look of shame, which she quickly directed guiltily towards the floor. "Oh good. You're catching on."

Arfoire could approve of that much, even if she had some freak aspects in her design that she hadn't counted on. She supposed that was what she got... Oh well. Maybe that would go away once she transformed. She could always do a little experimenting if it became a problem. The people had never seen a goddess before — they were probably so stupidly taken with just the idea, they'd accept a rotting slab of meat as their lord and savior if Arfoire told them it was goddessly enough. Yeah, this could definitely still work out.

First, she just had to get her dogoos in a row.

"Okay, brat, chin up. Tell me what your name is." Arfoire had figured since this girl's "creation" would largely involved generating something based on faith in something that didn't exist, the name she would have would likely be influenced by the people she had come to serve. Good thing Arfoire had spent months trolling the island influencing them, making sure that this goddess would turn out exactly as she wanted. "If you don't have one, we can figure something out."

The girl looked up, tilting her head curiously. Her hair, thanks to the headtilt, Arfoire now noticed in annoyance was going to need to be cut or styled or something because it was just a wreck as it was now. The baby CPU was silent for a few moments, as if she was mulling over the question that had been presented to her. Arfoire didn't appreciate that. It wasn't that hard.

"Well?"

"You see, mommy... I do have a name, but I'd much rather have a name that you gave me..." After making this remark, the girl smiled at her mother happily. She beamed, eager to show her mother just how much she loved her. She would do anything her mother asked her, even eat something disgusting like pudding, if it made her happy!

Arfoire just winced.

Braces, she told herself.

This kid would need braces.

There was going to be a CPU — a goddess — running around with braces of all things.

What else could go possibly wrong?

"I don't care what your name is, so I'm not going to name you. What I do care about..." Arfoire let the words hang, just so she could see just how much the girl cared about what Arfoire cared about. From her reaction... quite a bit. She could work with this, she supposed. Dropping her smirk, Arfoire's voice became far more harsh as she continued. It was time for some discipline. "... is that you listen to me. And here you are avoiding giving me what I wanted, right out of the door. How disappointing. I still don't hear an answer to my question."

Initially, the girl look horrified at the change in Arfoire's demeanor — like the realization that she had disobeyed her mommy was enough to get her to do anything Arfoire wanted to make up for such a horrible mistake. Upon realizing that all she needed to do was simply tell her "mommy" her name, she immediately brightened — her mismatched eyes lighting up like a Pongsmas tree decorated by three blind Pirachu.

"Whatever you want, mommy!" Straightening herself, the girl grabbed for the sides of her gown — definitely needed to get her something more appropriate to wear, or they'd be known for something very different, Arfoire noted to herself — and did a curtsy, still smiling all too much for Arfoire's liking. "My name is Blaneptunoirert."

The pale skinned woman that was the girl's... no... Blaneptunoirert's "mother" could only stare, dumbstruck.

"I take it back. That's not staying. I'd sooner kill you myself." Arfoire didn't appreciate that the girl didn't seem too opposed to the idea of death if it was Arfoire giving it. That, or she didn't know what death was, since she seemed to be completely unphased by the comment Arfoire had made in regards to her life. Still, what kind of name should she give the damn kid now? She had been counting on her having one — but because she'd been hoping for "a goddess better than all the CPUs and Candidates combined," what she'd ended up with was a goddess with a mishmash of all of their names. Just great. "You're... uh... Shit."

"I... I'm... I'm Shit? Is that my name, Mommy...?" Oh. She'd been listening. Were they really going to be playing this kind of game? The woman sincerely hoped not. Readying a response, Arfoire scowled, prepared to yell at the girl for being stupid, when she realized the girl was looking... strangely uncomfortable, staring at the ground and shifting awkwardly. "I... If you're into that sort of thing, I... I don't mind... I-If it makes you happy... Whatever you want, I... I want too...! I'll go get a cup for us right now if you want, mommy!"

Arfoire's words died before they could leave her lips. If it was possible, her already pale skin grew five shades paler as an uncomfortable feeling settled somewhere in her stomach and proceeded to laugh at her for screwing things up so badly.

She could not deal with a kid that called her mommy and acted like a little puppy but also seemed to know far too much about certain things that she had no place knowing about. There was probably some sick freaks on this island that Arfoire should have gotten rid of before she had done this, she realized regretfully, but what was done was done — it would take too much time to find another decently populated area that had never had contact from the other nations and start this process all over again.

She was stuck with this... this.

"No, you are not going to be named Shit. Don't even... Just... Don't. Or I'll rip your head off." Leaving that subject with that warning, Arfoire's shoulders slumped. This was more of a headache than she had planned already, and she still didn't have a damn name for the brat yet! "Okay, got it. You're Viola."

It wasn't original. Her train of thought was no more complicated or interesting than the following:

A: She is going to be better than Neptune even if it killed her making her that way.

B: Neptune is purple.

C: Purple is like violet.

D: Violet... Violet... Violet...?

E: ? ? ?

F: Violence, maybe...?

G: ? ? ? ? ? ? ?

H: Viola!

... but, lack of creativity aside, it had still ended up with Arfoire having given the newborn goddess a name, at long last, so that was something, right? Sure, it was a trashy name for a bootlegged CPU that looked like she was bound to fail, but that was what Arfoire was here for. To make sure that she didn't fail — that Arfoire didn't fail — and to make sure that-

"Oh, mommy, I love it! I'll cherish my name forever and ever and ever, until we die in each others arms! I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you!"

What followed was something that Arfoire should have seen coming. With how overly and disgustingly affectionate this creature had been thus far, it should have been painfully obvious how being given a name would make her feel. She leaned over and wrapped her arms around Arfoire, giving her a tight hug and nuzzling her with her face. Arfoire, being Arfoire, hadn't seen it coming. She tugged away, crying out in frustration and annoyance as she pushed her creation — her "daughter," as it were — hard, pushing her back towards the pseudo-operating table.

She didn't want this! She wanted an obedient servant! She wanted a pawn! She didn't want a child! Why had this gone so... so...

Her thoughts faded away.

For what followed next was something that shouldn't have happened.

Arfoire had just expected the girl to get shoved. She had just wanted to stop this disgusting show of affection in its tracks. Maybe the girl would cry. Maybe she'd turn out to be a masochist on top of everything else. Nothing would have surprised her at this point.

As it turns out, there was one thing that still could have.

Because she had never, in her wildest dreams, expected the horrible reality of what actually followed her simple push of the newborn "CPU."

"Oh... Oh no! Mommy? I think... Yes, my arms definitely came off." The girl, apparently not even in pain despite the fact that her arms were no longer attached to her body and still hugging Arfoire, turned to the woman and offered her what could only be described as the worst attempt at puppy dog eyes in the history of eyes, complete with a smile so affectionate that it made Arfoire want to throw up. Well, even more than the whole dismembered limbs hugging her thing already did. "M-Mommy... May I... That is, um... Could I have my arms back if you don't want them for anything? Please? I can't embrace you with all of my love for you without them... Oh, but if you want to keep them for personal reasons, I-I wouldn't mind..."

That was it.

That was the last straw — no, the last straw had been thrown out some time ago.

They were well past the last straw at this point.

This was beyond a failure.

This was an insult to failed experiments and attempts at overthrowing CPUs everywhere.

This was simply a disaster.

Falling to her knees, Arfoire held her head in her hands and screamed.

She never wanted to see another CPU, fake or manufactured or real or whatever, for as long as she lived!

"Oh... I didn't know you could sing!"

Was she tone deaf too!?