The sun was beating down on Emerald Cove, turning the white sand into a shimmering floor of heat. While most tourists were lounge-chair-bound with fruity drinks, Rebecca was currently deploying a tripod-mounted Pneumatic Sand-Compressor.
She was wearing a matte-black "Tactical Swim-Suit"—which was basically her Bunny-suit's inner compression layer, reinforced with waterproof plating and a utility belt that held her laser-level and a thermos of iced coffee.
"Becca, we are at the beach," Carrie sighed, adjusting her neon-pink sun visor. She looked like a tropical star in her ruffled, holographic bikini that changed colors every time a wave hit the shore. "You look like you’re preparing to invade a sandbar. Look at this! I got you a cute sun-hat with little bunny ears!"
"I don't need a hat, Carrie. I need structural stability," Rebecca muttered, checking her digital blueprint. "The 1:1 Scale Aincrad Reconstructed (Sector 1) requires a moisture-to-density ratio of exactly 14.7%. If the tide hits 3.2 meters, my foundation will hold. Unlike that amateur."
She pointed a gloved finger at her rival three plots down: The Architect. He was a tall man in a designer linen shirt, delicately carving a spiral staircase into a flimsy mound of sand with a silver butter knife.
"It’s about the flow, the emotion of the grain!" The Architect called out, sensing her gaze. "Your 'machine' has no soul, Bunny! Sand is a poem, not a bunker!"
"My 'poem' is going to have a functional drawbridge," Rebecca hissed.
The Floating Stage
A few hundred yards offshore, a massive platform was being towed into place. It was Carrie’s "Floating Resonance Stage," equipped with sub-surface subwoofers designed to turn the entire bay into a dance floor.
"I have to go do sound-check!" Carrie said, hopping onto a jet-ski. "The 'Summer Beats' festival starts at sunset. Try not to declare war on the seagulls while I'm gone!"
"The seagulls are tactical aerial thieves, Carrie! They've already scouted my lunch!" Rebecca shouted as the jet-ski roared away.
The First Ripple
Rebecca turned back to her plot. She activated the compressor. Thump-hiss. Thump-hiss. The sand began to solidify into blocks of near-stone density. She began stacking them with the precision of a master mason. Floor 1 of Aincrad was rising. The drawbridge was indeed functional. She even began installing tiny LED fiber-optics for the "Town of Beginnings."
Suddenly, the ground shook.
BOOM... BOOM... BOOM...
A massive bassline rolled across the water from the floating stage. Carrie was testing the "Lucky Cyan" sub-harmonics. A three-foot ripple traveled through the sand, making The Architect’s spiral staircase collapse into a sad pile of dust.
"MY ART!" he wailed.
Rebecca’s castle groaned. A small crack appeared in the outer wall. She pulled out a high-pressure resin sprayer.
"Carrie!" Rebecca yelled into her comms. "Lower the low-end! You're vibrating the tectonic plates! My Sector 1 is undergoing a 4.2 magnitude 'Idol-Quake'!"
"Sorry, Becca! Just checking the 'Vibe'!" Carrie’s voice crackled back, giggling over the sound of a techno-beat. "The fish seem to love it! There’s a whole school of glowing ones circling the stage!"
Rebecca squinted at the water. The "glowing fish" weren't fish. They were long, bioluminescent tentacles trailing behind a massive, translucent dome rising from the deep.
"Uh, Carrie?" Rebecca’s tactical HUD zoomed in. "Those aren't fans. Those are stingers. Massive ones."35Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡl5mTgNexZq
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