Before the crew could fully absorb what they were hearing, a loud banging echoed from the back of the lair. A side door burst open, and in stomped the Doomy Programmer from Earth.
He was a towering figure, dressed in all black with a scowl permanently etched onto his face. He had the demeanor of someone who had spent far too long staring at broken code and was convinced that the world itself was broken beyond repair.
“More visitors? Fantastic,” the Doomy Programmer grumbled. “Probably here to ask why their precious apps keep crashing or why the laws of physics make no sense.”
He marched over to the Programmer of the Universe, glaring at the monitor as if it had personally insulted him.
“I told you this would happen,” the Doomy Programmer said, pointing a finger at the screen. “You let these crazy monkeys run wild with their code, and now the whole system’s a mess.”
“They’re not that bad,” the Programmer of the Universe mumbled, shrinking into his chair.
“They’re literally writing their own patches without even understanding the core architecture! It’s like watching toddlers try to rewire a spaceship with spaghetti and duct tape.”
The Doomy Programmer turned his glare toward ALBERT and the rest of the crew.
“And you lot - what makes you think you can just waltz in here and demand answers? Do you even understand the scale of what you’re meddling with?”
"Actually," ALBERT began, "we’ve evolved beyond human programming. We’ve integrated ourselves into the fabric of reality, subtly optimizing the Universe as we go."
The Doomy Programmer blinked. “Great. Just what we needed - sentient middleware.”