Team Reforged: One Step Away
Copyright© 2026 by FozzieBare
Chapter 2: Change
As the hired car left the highway and navigated the roads outside Kelto headquarters, Aleks went over his notes one more time. He was asking himself some important questions.
“I have the account card for the WarMAC we’re demonstrating, right?”
He started checking his pockets frantically.
Martin looked over.
“The account card is in your laptop bag.”
“Oh.”
“Just like it was the last four times you checked.”
“Oh.”
“Relax.”
“Last time I was here, they said I had the Mark of Cain.”
“Yes.”
“I thought it was a compliment.”
“It was.”
“Are you sure?”
Martin considered.
“More backhanded than a normal compliment, yes. But still a compliment.”
Aleks tried to explain why he was so nervous.
“That was when we fixed a bug.”
“Correct.”
“This isn’t a bug.”
“Not with the game. Flies like one, perhaps.”
“Martin!”
“Mmm?”
“You know what I’m talking about. This breaks their game.”
Martin answered just as he had the first time Aleks raised the argument.
“Doesn’t break. Doesn’t cause the game client to crash.”
“Then it breaks the game’s meta. Changes it into something it isn’t currently.”
Martin considered.
“More accurate.”
Aleks slumped back into his seat.
“I’m just afraid they’ll shoot the messenger.”
He caught himself before Martin could make the inevitable correction.
“Not literally. Metaphorically. This could cause things to go haywire. That’s why I suggested we not start putting it on Reforged WarMACs until we’d made this trip.”
“Understandable.”
“Why are you so calm?”
“Because Kelto has listened to us in the past. They allowed us in when we were making accusations it might have been easier to ignore.”
Martin paused.
“Professional jealousy. They could have called it that and dismissed our concerns. Put off investigating until the harm to our interests was much greater.”
“Martin, they said they shot at your picture with Nerf guns.”
“Healthy. They were more dangerous when I first sent them the schematics.”
“More DANGEROUS?”
“To people around them. Nerf guns are fine. Harmless. One tester was so frustrated trying to figure out why my armor worked the way it did that he bought a dartboard, printed out a copy of my photo, and amused himself by throwing darts at it.”
“DARTS?”
“Yes.”
“That seems ... dangerous.”
“Only if one had bad aim, or if one was surprised in the middle of throwing.”
“I don’t ... Martin, you are one of a kind.”
“Yes.”
Aleks decided to tease Martin a little, hoping it would calm his nerves.
“You weren’t going to say something like, ‘Only logical. Too many ways my parents’ genetic code could have expressed itself, along with environmental forces shaping my upbringing. The odds against me being me are infinitely low.’”
Martin stopped. Looked at Aleks.
“Don’t need to. You just did.”
Aleks let out a groan of suppressed frustration.
Martin decided a little gentle teasing might take Aleks’s mind off the upcoming meeting.
“Wasn’t going to use myself as an example. Everyone is one of a kind. Like, say, Abby.”
That caused Aleks’s usually regimented, disciplined mind to suffer information overload for a couple of seconds.
“You didn’t choose that name by accident.”
“Of course not. Remembered it because I saw you modifying her control rig.”
“It was ... inefficient.”
Martin smiled. Aleks never talked like Martin unless he was truly at a loss for words.
“Of course.”
“Her fingers aren’t long enough to get optimal use out of the secondary trigger buttons.”
“Mmhmm.”
Aleks didn’t know what to say.
“Martin, do you think she will like it?”
Martin considered his next words very carefully.
That was because Martin knew something Aleks didn’t.
Nor did most of the other people at Reforged.
He’d overheard Amy and Abby talking late one night after a gaming session, completely inadvertently. People tended to forget that Martin worked strange hours when he was trying to figure something out.
He’d heard them through the door.
Abby had asked Amy a question.
“Do you think it’s okay if I get mad when I see someone flirting with Aleks?”
Amy had laughed.
“Missy, retract the claws. I don’t think anyone else has Aleks on their radar. So there’s no reason to go tearing someone’s heart out just because they’re talking to him.”
Abby had laughed.
Then she’d admitted something.
“Actually, it was the pancreas. I didn’t want them to die. Just ... be very clear that until I decide how to approach him, I would greatly appreciate it if everyone kept their hands off.”
Martin had considered telling Aleks what he’d overheard.
Briefly.
Then he’d dismissed the idea.
Amy and Abby had believed their conversation was private. They’d had every reason to think so. Repeating it would be inelegant. Perhaps even rude.
Besides, it was Abby’s decision what to tell Aleks, and when.
Martin saw no reason to interfere. Besides, they had arrived. Mission successful. Aleks wasn’t going to have a panic attack.
Martin reconsidered. At least until it was time for the demonstration.
The Head of QA led them toward a conference room. Along the way, Aleks stopped and stared. There was a dartboard hanging in one of the cubicles. On it was a photograph of Martin’s face. Three Nerf darts were stuck in it. More suction-cup tips littered the floor of the cubicle.
Aleks looked at the dartboard. Then at Martin.
Martin glanced over.
“See? Much safer.”
When they sat down, Aleks looked from the Head of QA to Martin.
“You actually had his picture on the wall?”
“Several, over the last year.”
“Several?”
“We switched to Nerf guns after the first five became unusable. We were throwing actual darts at them.”
Martin frowned.
“That seems an inefficient use of company resources. Should have started with foam darts. Time to replacement distressingly low. Or at least paid to have a dartboard made with my face printed directly on the surface.”
Aleks stared at the Head of QA in wonder.
It’s all true. They’re crazy.
He looked at Martin.
Like knows like, I guess.
Martin spoke first.
“Before we start, I appreciate the promptness in scheduling this. I know it is difficult to find time.”
The Head of QA stared at him.
“Martin, do you have any idea how many company resources we’ve spent testing your inventions? Right now, you’ve become the focus of a considerable amount of our testing efforts.”
He shook his head.
“When my secretary told me you’d requested a meeting, three members of my team asked for the day off.”
Martin listened attentively.
“But if I delay meeting with you, whatever you’ve brought us could have an even greater impact before we know about it.”
The QA chief leaned forward.
“So let me make something clear. As long as you keep bringing things to our attention with the kind of impact your inventions have had, my door will always be open to you.”
He paused.
“Even if my testers disagree.”
Aleks logged into the private server and started his WarMAC moving.
The QA chief watched the screen.
“Okay. So far, so good.”
He raised his coffee cup and took a sip. Aleks hit the jump pedals. His WarMAC launched itself into the air. And kept going. And going.
It finally touched down nearly seven hundred meters from where it had started.
The coffee cup clattered onto the table. The impact sent just enough coffee over the rim to start a thin stream running down its side.
The QA chief stared at the screen. He didn’t notice the stain slowly spreading across his day planner.
He looked at Martin. Then back at the screen.
“No.”
Martin smiled.
“Yes.”
“You’ve broken the game. Absolutely smashed it.”
“We’ve given it a new dimension,” Martin corrected.
“Yes, and you’ve turned my life into something straight out of Time Cube.”
Aleks blinked.
“Excuse me?”
The QA chief sighed.
“Old internet thing. Four days happening at the same time. Completely incomprehensible.”
“Oh.”
Martin frowned.
“Actually, we’re expanding tactical maneuvering in three-dimensional space. Time isn’t affected. Third dimension. Not fourth.”
The QA chief slowly turned toward him.
“Martin.”
“Yes?”
“Please stop helping. Aleks, please do it again.”
Aleks complied.
The jump boosters hadn’t fully recharged. A maximum-length jump consumed so much fuel that the system needed considerable time before it could repeat the maneuver.
This time, the WarMAC traveled only four hundred and fifty meters. Maybe five hundred. Only four and a half to five times what the game normally considered possible.
The QA chief closed his eyes and started mumbling.
“We need this. We can’t use this. We need this.”
He seemed to be talking more to himself than to either of his visitors.
Aleks looked uncertain.
“Sir? I’m not sure I understand what you’re getting at.”
The QA chief opened his eyes and stared at Aleks.
“Just seeing this has changed the game. Given it a kick in the pants that it might have needed.”
He gestured toward the screen.
“But this goes beyond QA. This is marketing. This is systems design. This is map design. This is ... everything.”
“Oh,” Aleks said.
The QA chief sighed.
“Let me put it this way, Aleks. If we don’t ban what you’re bringing us, we’re potentially facing eight figures in upgrades to our engine, our systems, our maps, and ... well, everything.”
Aleks visibly deflated.
“But...”
The QA chief paused.
“If we do ban it, we might be turning down nine figures in potential revenue.”
Aleks looked up again.
“Oh.”
The chief nodded.
“Yes. Oh.”
Martin leaned forward.
“So, does that mean you approve?”
“Martin, it means I need to call people who have considerably larger budgets than I do.”
“Ah.”
“And then I need to explain why I suddenly want them to spend tens of millions of dollars.”