Golf Ball had been spending several sleepless nights just staring at a bunch of monitors.
The less that was said about the... *disaster*, the better. She knew ever since she first started work on it that the Factory, as fine of a work of art as it was, could only survive for *so* long until some force of nature, act beyond her comprehension, or someone looking for mischief decides to barge in and ruin her intricate house of cards. She tried to make it so that the place could survive the absolute *worst* that the world could throw at it- she had been fairly confident that the world could end right above her heads and she could survive it just fine -it's pretty hard to safeguard such a massive place from being entirely submerged in lava. Or was it magma? Whatever. Her long-running nightmares finally came to fruition all at once, and though she was spared of having to witness this great devastation herself through the merciful release of death, that death *was* through the start of the massive outpour of hot liquid that would come to destroy all that she held dear.
And so, yet *another* headache was added into GB's massive pile; yet another horrific, unyielding truth about the universe that's just gonna keep gnawing at her until the end of time. Rebuilding everything and preventing this from being such a massive setback was obviously a priority, but so was being alive to make sure of it. The Battle for Dream Island was still going strong (though they were now competing over something completely different), and she had to take care of *that* as well. And so, what little free time she had in-between episodes, her brief reprieve in-between all the constant misery and agony, was immediately used up to patch up yet *another* horrible, no-good tragedy.
Plenty of things survived well enough against the onslaught that occurred that day. Obviously, she wasn't dumb enough to place *everything* valuable in a single place. There were hidden vaults that secured the *really* good stuff, things that could change the world, and the hierarchy within, if they were allowed to see the light of day. There were areas and devices built with materials that could withstand the heat. There were systems engineered to minimize the damage taken, even by just a little. Day by day, from sunrise to sunset, Golf Ball and her... *assistant* would work tirelessly to get everything back to normal. Well, something *resembling* normal, anyhow. Things were lost, things were destroyed. But that's just the nature of things. That's life. If they hadn't been destroyed now, they would've been destroyed by the relentless march of time, by entropy tending towards its maximum. Still, it would've been *great* if it was able to survive just a bit longer...
No point in complaining about it now. What's past is past. All that's left is the now. And the future. The *glorious* future.
It took a while (all great things do), but Golf Ball was ultimately done testing and checking everything, taking notes on everything that endured and making plans to dispose or recycle the rest. There was just one little thing that had to be taken care of.
Lava is... well, *lava*. It's hot, it melts through things, and being subjected to it is *generally* not a good time. While the Factory seemed to be fine *enough*, GB wanted to make sure that it was *really* fine. That everything was accounted for, that it was all running smoothly, and that nothing short of *another* cataclysmic flood could ruin everything again.
And so, she watched carefully. On all the 2,763 cameras stationed throughout the Factory (built to the same standards as the rest of the place), the sport globule carefully watched for even the slightest sign of a vulnerability, of weakness, of change. Everything had to be *perfect*, and everything that wasn't had to be dealt with. It didn't matter if the flaw was slight enough to basically be unnoticeable unless you were looking for it, or happened infrequently enough that you didn't have to worry about it. She knew that, over a long enough time, those will add up. Little by little. It must all be dealt with. Every single threat. Every *little*
