At last! Finally! It’s complete! The station glistens above you in the half-light, blocking out the sky with it’s awesome power. Nothing remotely as powerful as this has ever been seen before in Spindle. You feel a kick of adrenaline rushing through you, as you step forward to proclaim the Dream Vanguard’s final, ultimate weapon: the Concept Killer; the Transcendental Terror; the Dream Destroyer. Wait, no – not that last one.

Except… no-one seems to have turned up. You’ve spent the last few years putting every last drop of Juices into this; every last Trope that you could get your hands on. It took you long enough to track down a viable moon in the first place: Far Dream is usually far too volatile for anything like that. But you did it. You. And only you. You sit and think for a while.

Not that it matters. The Dream Vanguard has been without you for far too long – and now you’re back, armed to the universe. Oh wait, no – there are two people approaching. In the dim light cast by the shadow you struggle to make them out. Brink..? Lorem..? Come to admire your new toy, you expect.

“Stand down, Cyrus.”

It’s Brink. Surprised, you shift in your seat. Is he asking you to step down as general? As the master of Twlight? The greatest force for good Spindle has ever seen? What a fool.

“No, Brink. It is for our own protection. Twilight is my masterpiece; our masterpiece! For the Dream Vanguard. A battlestation beyond all of our wildest dreams: a laser that can wipe out any threat.”

Neither of them respond. Urgh. This is frustrating. Who are they to speak, anyway, with their rank V Tropes? It’s absurd. They can wipe out anything with a simple flick of the hand. You, on the other hand… you had to build this.

“Do you not approve, Brink? Lorem? You hypocrites. You don’t need to say anything. I know that you want to destroy it. Deny Spindle the security it deserves. All because you are jealous – those rank V Tropes have gone to your heads. They are weapons of mass destruction: they should not be allowed in the hands of a single Muse.”

Are… are they laughing at you? Laughing? How dare they?

An extract from ‘The Direy of a Muse: Meant or Accident?’, an autobiographical perspective by Bet Wimpole.

Though Cyrus Thought th’Academy,
Was all that maketh Spindle free,
He learnt to feel and talk and play,
Until his heart did cease to pray
To words and acts, instead to heed
His other yearns like sin and greed,
Without a care for friend or Muse
Whose words he listened but refused.

But silent throughout all of this,
Our friend remained in ign’rant bliss.
The Vanguard leading, ten yards speeding
All ahead but thoughts receding,
Dragons roaring, Creators snoring,
Never fazed but always soaring.
On cloud he dreamed while ground he reamed,
Expecting praise, yet not esteemed.

Disgraced was he, yet unrepentant,
Never one so independent
Has Spindle seen before or since.
P’raps a thought I could evince
Of Dream wrought bare, of Tropes unleashed,
Upon a helpless world beneath,
A lunar threat to blast them all,
And caused our Cyrus’ great downfall.

Alone, unpraised, unique in fear
Inspired on those he held so dear,
His hubris free, ambition vast,
No-one thought he’d succumb at last
To’a simple plod from a simple past,
His station gone. Though not forgot,
Though what he did he knows not what,
But you, dear reader, know the lot.

“I hope you don't mind I invited Dave's family around at the same time.” Says Cyrus, after Cal and Archie greet him.

Cal replies, confused, “That sounds lovely. Family though? Do you mean Jack? Have they—”

On cue, Dave, Jack and a smaller more simplistically rendered Dave arrive, little Dave rudely coming straight in without knocking. Jack admonishes him “What did I say about knocking when you visit people? I want you to apologise to Uncle Cyrus.”

“What? He already invited us! Why should he have to invite us again?”

Cyrus picks little Dave up by the armpits and twirls him around. He squirms and beats ineffectually at Cyrus's arms.

“This is no way to treat the General of the Revolutionary Guard. You won't be smiling when I blow up your Academy, Inquisitive.”

“I survived last time and I'll survive it again. Anyway, Cal, I hear you've been travelling?”

Calcifer, who had been distracted by how cute little Dave is when he's in a murderous mood, lights up at the question.

“Oh! Yes, Dad and I found out where the squirrels went after they left Spindle. They're just out in the middle of nowhere with a little squirrel country. We parked the Think Train outside and snuck in disguised as the big cloudy ones.”

Archie speaks up: “We probably shouldn't be focusing on the squirrels too much though. They're still a Memeification risk. There was that Vignette with the crab robots, too.”

“Hah. You looked terrified when they caught up with you. And tell them about your plan for the plot.”

Cal starts laughing while Archie sighs. “Fine…”