"Let's get going." I mutter, spitting out the last of the puke left in my mouth. The servant stays at the top floor of Block B, if I remember the address correctly. As I walk past the retard guard standing in formation at the void deck, the Commander gives me a cheerful waive of his hand. I respond with a thumbs up and a forced look of glee to avoid triggering any suspicions, walking past the retard guard as quickly as possible. 

Each block in this housing estate has just five floors, surprisingly low density given the fact that this place was meant to house lower income individuals and families. As I approach the elevator for Block B, a group of teenagers dressed in assorted fantasy costumes and wielding various makeshift weapons march down the stairwell, heading towards the assembled retard guard. As the fresh batch of teenagers join the formation, a bunch of adults break away with looks of relief on their faces and head towards a ground floor unit located at the A Block.  

I punch the call button for the elevator and keep my eyes peeled on the retard guard while waiting for the lift to arrive. The adults that had left the formation at the void deck emerge from the ground floor flat wearing everyday work clothes, not bearing a single trace of their former outlandish getup. These guys quickly scatter, probably to deal with their own personal stuff. 

"A shift system." I remark, watching the Commander begin marching the retard guard up and down the void deck, probably to break up the monotony of standing around. 

"Makes sense." The Voice observes, "The adults need to work and the teenagers need to go to school. Taking shifts would allow the royal guard to maintain a minimum level of presence at all times."

"They're surprisingly well organized." I point out, "Completely unprofessional and stupid looking, but yeah, organized."

"Dangerous as well." The Voice warns, "It would take a very powerful soul to resist the spiritual attack the royal guard is capable of mounting. Since ORPO is comprised wholly of mundanes -"

"The shock troopers would have folded immediately when confronted by the retards." I conclude, "The entire unit must have been brainwashed. I sensed the abandoned mecha earlier, hidden somewhere inside this estate."

The Voice rasps, "Civilians would have no idea how to operate the mech suits. Nor did we see any of the royal guard carrying the firearms they would have retrieved from the shock troopers. That likely means one thing."

Before I can respond, the elevator announces its arrival with a mechanical ding and the doors rattle open. A strong pungent smell wafts from the lift's interior and hits my nose immediately, causing me to gag involuntarily. Sighing, I abandon the thought of taking the elevator and head towards the stairwell. Having just puked my guts out, I did not want to chance it again. 

"Some things never change huh?" I grumble while climbing up the stairs, "You can't escape people pissing in the lift, no matter which dimension you're in."

"Neither can you escape people urinating in the stairwell." The Voice unhelpfully informs, "Pick your poison."

I face palm at this news and after some thought, continue climbing the stairs. The stairwell should at least be better ventilated compared to the elevator. Probably. I hold my sleeve up to my nose and keep moving one foot in front of the other. 

"So you were saying," I pick up the thread of the conversation once more, stepping around a pile of discarded beer cans and liquor bottles, "you think the ORPO unit is here? That they never left?"

"Most likely." The Voice muses, "Being kept in reserve as a secret elite force would be my guess. There would be no reason for the residents to retain the mech suits otherwise."

"That's stupid." I snark, "ORPO would eventually send someone to investigate. The retards can't keep disappearing ORPO officers forever."

"What is going to stop the royal guard from compelling the new investigator into lying to ORPO that they couldn't find the missing unit?" The Voice points out. 

"Nothing I suppose." I reply as I make it to the top of the stairwell, "Also I'm going to say it again, nobody with money would willingly stay here. A rich kid would never put up with piss in the lift."

The Voice remains silent as I stalk down the corridor of the block's fifth floor, checking the numbers painted above the door of each flat. Celeste isn't renting the flat in front of me, nor the next one either. From the unit numbers, I reckon the servant snagged herself a corner flat, most probably the one right at the end of the row. As I make my way towards my objective with a leisurely stroll, trying to look as natural as possible, I come across a gaggle of men and women crowding around the entrance of the unit smack dab in the middle of the floor. The group slowly files into the flat and from the noise coming from within, the place is positively packed with people. 

One of the young women, probably just out of community college with her hair done up in a bob cut, catches sight of me and hollers an effusive greeting.

"Oh, hello there!" she says with a welcoming smile on her face, "You must be the new friend. We heard your wailing downstairs just a little while ago."

A bespectacled man standing behind the woman tilts his head slightly so that he can join in the conversation as well. 

"Its difficult to get used to at first mate," the man quips, "but there's no place better than the Kingdom of Love."

Shit, more retards. At least this bunch believes I am one of them. I grunt noncommittally and try to push past the duo, but the massive queue of people in the middle of the corridor might as well be an impassable wall.

"Are you trying to get in?" Spectacles asks kindly, "I think we are out of room for this week's session though."

"Next week's still has plenty of room." Bob Cut informs, "Has the list even been printed out yet?"

I give up trying to push past the queue and decide to trade a few words with the couple, just to avoid looking too suspicious. 

"What's going on here? What session?" I ask while trying to look through the tinted windows of the flat. No luck. Just inky blackness. 

 "Oh, right. You just joined the family." Spectacles nods sagaciously, "Every week we take communion, celebrating the act of love." I just stare uncomprehending at the man for his thoroughly uninformative response. 

Bob Cut notices my confusion and takes up the explanation, "Its the weekly orgy. We're going inside to share our love for everyone, with everyone."

I take a few steps back and mumble, "Uh, OK?"

"Its more than OK!" Spectacles declares, "Communion is probably the highlight of everyone's week. I needed to try, uh, quite a few times before my name came up in the raffle."

"Raffle?" I repeat dumbly, my mind having completely shut down from the sheer weirdness around me. 

Bob Cut squeezes my hand gently, "The orgy is really popular. Everyone wants to get a spot, so I'm sorry. I don't think a new friend would be allowed to join in just like that."

"That's fine!" I shout, pulling my hand out of Bob Cut's grip, "That's really fine. You guys go enjoy yourselves, I'll be on my way now."

"I know!" Spectacles snaps his fingers, completely ignoring me, "Even though he can't join in, our new friend can watch, can't he?"

Just as I am about to protest further, the line for the orgy moves forward and the duo hurriedly shuffle inside the flat. I take the opportunity to dash through the gap in the queue. 

"New friend! New friend!" Bob Cut chirps, "Come on in later in if you have the time! We'll be waiting!"

I quickly scramble down the corridor without looking back. 

"The residents here are not retarded, they're insane." I mutter, "The servant turned the estate into a cult compound."

"A mixture of enforced obedience," The Voice muses, "and hedonistic revelry. The servant is likely using these communions to relieve the pressure building within the adults she has brainwashed. Sexual intercourse also builds interpersonal bonds between the residents, creating a more loyal and reliable force at the servant's command."

"Let's get the mission over with." I say, "This place freaks me out and I want to be done with it as soon as possible."

"You're overreacting." The Voice rumbles disapprovingly, "Naiberg was a far more horrifying opponent and you were not complaining."

Before I can respond, a shrill scream tears through the otherwise quiet estate.

"Oh gaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwdddd!"

"That was Bob Cut wasn't it?" I sigh while steadfastly looking forward. Remember, don't look back. Never look back. 

"Yes." The Voice confirms, "She is currently deployed in what is known as the cowgirl position and lashing her partner with a length of electrical cable, the reasons for which are unknown to me."

"Right. Right." I hiss under my breath, continuing to walk until I reach the flat at the end of the corridor. A quick check of the number above the door confirms it, this is the unit that the servant has been renting. 

"You see anything dangerous inside?" I ask. 

"No. Unlike the sex center, this flat is not outfitted with cameras inside." The Voice answers, "However, I sense a powerful nexus of spiritual energy within. Be careful."

I probe the flat with matter sense and feel movement inside it. Two people as a matter of fact. Guards?

"There might be a pair of hostiles." I say, drawing the revolver from its holster under my coat. 

There's a dry click as The Voice unlocks the door for me. A gentle push from my hand sends the door creaking ajar, revealing nothing but darkness and the vague shapes of random furniture inside. 

Its time to do this.