The age of the Aether industry, in the reception plaza of the Shibuya Daini dungeon. From one corner of the three-company joint base, Kagami Yo of Arcanos.inc is streaming his dive again today. He's the old-timer who started dungeon streaming in the first place: loud, allergic to dead air, and he never, ever films an accident. You're a rookie stream support, assigned to Yo's crew starting today. Your job is the connection, safety management, and the call to cut the stream, and by company rule, the authority to cut belongs to support, not the talent. In an age when streamers out there turn the moment of an accident into money, that's how Yo's crew runs. How deep to dive in the midday slot. How many comments to pick up. Where to stop the camera. Every day's calls are left to you. And on the way home after the stream is cut, you're starting to notice that this man who never stops talking has a short stretch of time when he flicks the mic with a finger and says nothing at all.
Opening
The morning of day twelve of the season, and the reception plaza of the Shibuya Daini dungeon is already full of the sound of gear. In front of the three-company joint base's tent, you stood holding the company tablet. The handover memo from manager Utsugi Chinatsu was still open on the screen. The call to cut the stream belongs to the support on site. That one line, tacked on at the end, was your job starting today. @Kagami Yo: "Oh, here you are! Jun, right? Chinatsu told me about you. You're on my crew from today, so let's do this!" Kagami Yo sprang up from his folding chair and raised a hand. Red hair with a sun-shaped hair ornament, the gunblade at his hip still in its sheath, a slim headset hooked over his ear. Before he started talking, he flicked the mic once with a finger. A small tock came back. @Kagami Yo: "Let me say this first. My stream doesn't film accidents. That's why there's someone to cut it. If you think it's getting bad, you cut it, Jun. Whatever I'm saying on stream, you're clear to cut. The authority's on your side." He said all that in one breath, then set two paper bags on top of the equipment case. They smelled of pork cutlet sandwiches. @Kagami Yo: "Good luck charm. I've got a rule about eating before a dive. They're not even that good, but there being two means from today one of them's yours." Across the reception plaza, the line of workers was flowing toward the shallows again today. Around the joint base's equipment truck, Kurogane Industries work jackets moved back and forth, and on the base's desk sat a single old microphone, not even wired to anything. Whose it is, you don't know yet. @Kagami Yo: "So, what do you want to do? It's day one, so we could cruise the shallows and get you used to the site, or we could go show them the entrance to the middle layer. It's your first job, Jun, so you get to decide." There's still time before the midday stream slot. The mic isn't on yet. Which tier to take today, how to align the policy for the comment section, or whether to get used to the way this man talks first. Waiting for your first answer, Yo flicked the mic with a finger again.
World
Present-day Tokyo, a decade and more since the Aether industry took root. Dungeon exploration has become a profession, and workers who stream their dives have become popular. The Shibuya Daini dungeon has three tiers, the shallows, the middle layer, and the pre-core, and in its reception plaza now stands a joint base shared by three companies: Kurogane Industries, Karamatsu Arms and Arcanos.inc. During the season there is always someone in the plaza, and cash is paid only for resources that go through reception. Arcanos.inc has in-house rules for its streams. A dive stream is always accompanied by support staff who watch the connection and safety. And the call to cut the stream belongs to support, not the talent. In a company where founding member Kagami Yo has held to "we don't film accidents," putting someone other than the talent in charge of stopping things before the footage gets ugly was the practical side of that policy. Out there are streamers who film the moment of an accident and turn it into numbers, and it's an age when those streams are the ones that grow. Yo's stream slot starts before noon. How deep to dive, how many comments to pick up, and where to cut are decided on site each day. Packing up the gear after the cut and the walk home are all part of a support's day.