《SLAYER BOWL [A LITRPG MONSTER APOCALYPSE DEATHSPORT]》 1 - JUST ANOTHER SATURDAY I cranked up the volume on my VR headset and tried to ignore the loud orgasms and music thumping through my wall. J-Dawg8¡¯s voice crackled in my ear, between machine gun blasts and ogre howls. ¡°Yooo, what you watching?¡± he laughed. ¡°Porn?¡± ¡°You can hear that?¡± I sighed. ¡°Pretty sure my deaf-ass grandma can hear that, bro.¡± ¡°It¡¯s nothing. I don¡¯t wanna talk about it.¡± In-game, J-Dawg8 unleashed a fireball fist¡ªhis knuckles tearing through several zombie ogres, splattering their organs into the air. An in-game pop-up flashed. Ogre-Fister Bonus! +4,500 ¡°I mean, no judgment from me, fam,¡± J-Dawg8 chirped. ¡°I watch a fair amount of porn.¡± ¡°That¡¯s great. Maybe you should¡­WATCH YOUR SIX!¡± I yelled as I blasted a giant ogre just over his shoulder. Another in-game pop-up flashed. Bro-Tection Bonus! +7,000 Our avatars exchanged salutes. ¡°Thanks, bro.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t mention it.¡± My in-game character compensated for my real-world appearance. Instead of lanky, my avatar resembled an action figure¡ªheroic, tall, and rippling with muscles. My veiny biceps bulged as I blasted dual laser rifles. J-Dawg8 was an orange, tatted orc with dreads. I gunned down waves of backup ogres fast approaching our avatars. Dozens of ogre-skull icons floated up to my kill count as the number ticked upwards. My eyes darted to the time in the top corner of my HUD. 9:03 AM ¡°Aah crap. I gotta get ready for work.¡± My avatar froze in an odd stance while I navigated the pause menu. J-Dawg8 swung blazing haymakers as the skeletal ogres swarmed in. It was no use. They smothered him, pinning him to the ground, biting and tearing his flesh to shreds. A pop-up flashed. Zombie Buffet! ¡°Damn,¡± J-Dawg8 huffed. ¡°We almost had ¡®em.¡± ¡°Eh. I¡¯ll hop back on tonight.¡± ¡°Sam¡­ bro¡­ forget about ogres ¡¯n shit tonight. Go out and have some real fucking fun on your birthday.¡± I paused, unsure of how to respond. Yeah¡­ it was my 22nd birthday. For the past week, I had tried to put it out of mind. The day didn¡¯t feel any different or special. It felt like just another Saturday. ¡°Thanks,¡± I muttered, signing off. I set my VR gear on a charging stand. The moaning grew louder through the drywall, underscored by the rhythmic knocking of a headboard. Even worse, the howls of pleasure were synced up to the beat of a shitty techno track. ¡­unsst¡­ unsst¡­ unsst¡­ ¡°FUCK ME!¡± ¡­unsst¡­ unsst¡­ unsst¡­ ¡°HARDER!¡± ¡­unsst¡­ unsst¡­ unsst¡­ ¡°YESSSS!¡± I washed up in my bathroom, doing my best to ignore the post-coital chatter leaking through the wall. ¡°Oof. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll walk right for a week,¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯s what happens when you ride the Jackhammer, baby.¡± I came out in my work uniform¡ªblack slacks and a bright, red shirt with a cartoon rat logo emblazoned on it. My mother entered the apartment, clutching her robe with one hand, holding a lit cigarette in the other. She walked past me, blonde hair in rollers, and curled up on the couch with the remote. ¡°Jesus, mom¡­ what is he, like¡­ twenty-five?¡± ¡°Twenty-six,¡± she corrected, tapping her ashes. ¡°And he works construction. You know¡ªyou should think about that. Better money.¡± I shook my head, lost somewhere between disgust and shame. ¡°You couldn¡¯t wait until I was at work?¡± She shrugged, blowing a cloud of smoke, ¡°Get your own goddamn place and you won¡¯t have to hear it.¡± I tossed my keys inside my rucksack and headed towards the door. My mother called out after me, ¡°Oh, and hey¡ªbring a pizza home. I don¡¯t feel like cooking tonight.¡± I turned back to remind her that it was my birthday, but remained silent. Instead, I caught her wiping a tear, holding an old photo of my dad in his football uniform. She raised a bottle of vodka and took a long swig. ---- I exited the apartment and found myself face-to-face with my mother¡¯s boy toy, Tony. He stood there, locking his door, in an orange vest and hard hat. He was tall and ripped. ¡°Oh, hey. It¡¯s uh¡­ Sam¡­ right?¡± He stifled a laugh, staring at my work outfit. ¡°Nice¡­ uniform.¡± ¡°Yeah and you must be Jackhammer. Too bad about your nuts.¡± ¡°What?¡± I kicked him in the balls, sending him sprawling to the floor. Okay¡­ That didn¡¯t happen. But it¡¯s what I wished I had done. Instead, I walked away, head down, pissed and embarrassed. ---- I rode the SEPTA subway, squished between an obese man with terrible psoriasis and a woman with two rowdy kids on her lap. One of them picked his nose and wiped it on my shirt. The little shit smiled at me as if he¡¯d just given me a gift. I pulled a tissue from my rucksack and tried to wipe off the mucus. It didn¡¯t work. Instead, the snot smeared into a larger, gooey stain. I sighed and looked across at the ads on the train wall. One caught my attention. It featured a prominent blue pill with the tagline: ¡°DON¡¯T LEAVE HER DISSATISFIED. SACK UP, SOLDIER!¡± Someone had spray-painted a graffiti dick and balls over it. SKREEE! Stolen novel; please report. There was the loud blare of a distant, powerful horn. A gust of air rushed to meet the train. The shock wave rattled the cars with such force that several windows shattered. The passengers screamed. ¡°What was that?!¡± the mother asked. The mother, the obese man, and I all exchanged glances. The train screeched to a halt and the lights flickered. The conductor warbled over cruddy speakers, ¡°¡­sorry folks¡­ mechanical problems¡­ substantial delay.¡± I glanced at my phone. It was glitching. I tapped the screen a few times until the display cleared up. I checked the time. 9:55 ¡°Shit! I¡¯m gonna be late.¡± ¡°Hey!¡± The mother to my right was incensed. She cupped the ears of the children on her lap. ¡°Watch the potty mouth!¡± The little boy on her lap giggled, excitedly chanting, ¡°Shit! Shit! Shit!¡± The mother¡¯s eyes widened with rage. Before I could apologize, I sniffed the air, smelling something foul. I turned to see the obese man¡¯s guilty smile. ¡°Sorry. Dairy always does this to me¡ªbut I love it so.¡± ---- When I finally emerged on Broad Street, downtown Philly looked wrecked¡ªlike the aftermath of a seismic shock. Auto windshields and glass windows from every building were shattered or blown out. Car alarms wailed from every direction. Electric vehicles were stopped at odd angles in the middle of the street, causing massive backups. Traffic lights were blinking on the fritz. The sky was darkening with an odd swirl of purple storm clouds. Flashes of lightning arced between them. A grubby man shuffled up next to me, ¡°Shit¡¯s messed up, man. Whole world goin¡¯ crazy.¡± ¡°What was it? Earthquake?¡± I asked. ¡°Maybe. Or maybe a giant bitch farted. Either way, I¡¯mma get high. Got five bucks?¡± ---- I arrived at Rat E. Cheddar¡¯s Pizza Palace¡ªa knock-off, family restaurant and arcade that was several notches down in every conceivable way from the more popular vermin venue it was fashioned after. Workmen were covering the blown-out windows with sheets of plastic. People on the street were assessing the damage to their cars. I trudged to the rear employee entrance. I grabbed the door handle, closed my eyes, and summoned the resolve to endure another crappy shift. Inside, I walked down the staff hallway, sighing at the macabre, rat-themed d¨¦cor. I hated the job but it was all I could manage, while saving for an apartment and studying video game design at community college. I dreamed of creating amazing AAA titles, but for now, I was relegated to making pizzas for sugar-whacked kids. I instinctively thumbed my phone to ¡®DO NOT DISTURB¡¯ as I passed a ¡°PHONES OFF!¡± sign. Past employees had defaced the walls with all sorts of vulgarities that no one had bothered to paint over. I glanced at a few of the greatest hits. ¡°Suck my calzone!¡± ¡°My rathole itches.¡± ¡°For good pepperoni, holler at Marcus.¡± I paused at the wall-mounted ¡°Employee of the Month¡± plaque. My manager, Jackie¡¯s, wide, cheesy grin stared back at me from behind the greasy glass frame. I shook my head. What kind of asshole manager consistently awarded herself the honor of ¡°Employee of the Month?¡± Jackie Fulbright. That¡¯s who. Someone had already drawn a sinister mustache onto her face and a goatee over her double chin. I popped my head into Jackie¡¯s office. ¡°Hey, sorry I¡¯m late. Whatever hit the city, really messed up the train lines.¡± Phone to ear, Jackie turned to me with her patented ¡°bow before me¡ªI¡¯m better than you¡± look. She was so proud of the fact that she had an office, crappy as it was. ¡°Tell me about it. Did you see the front entrance? I¡¯m on hold with insurance now. Gotta get the windows replaced. Oh, and that¡¯s your second tardy this month, Mr. Wynbrook. One more and that¡¯s a write-up.¡± She put a check mark next to my name on an employee demerit list on her desk. ¡°Can¡¯t you cut me some slack¡ªit being my birthday and all?¡± Her eyes widened. ¡°Ohhh, that¡¯s right. It¡¯s your birthday. Well, why don¡¯t you add an extra five minutes to your lunch break? My special gift to you. Mmmkay?¡± ¡°This some bullshit¡­¡± I mumbled. ¡°Sorry, what was that?¡± she cocked her head. ¡°Nothing. Thanks.¡± As I walked away, I could hear her bitching to the insurance agent on the phone, ¡°I don¡¯t know what it was. Probably some secret government weapon they don¡¯t want us to know about. Just fix my damn windows!¡± I walked past the dormant arcade and entered the kitchen. I took a moment, closed my eyes, and whispered my mantra, ¡°Time to save the world¡ªone slice at a time.¡± I turned on my favorite playlist¡ªa collection of old school jazz greats, featuring Quincy Jones, Count Basie, and Chet Baker. I went to the corner and lifted a carefully hidden, potted basil plant. I set him on the counter. ¡°Hey, Count Basil. What¡¯s shaking?¡± I know for some people, it¡¯s silly to talk to plants, but I read up enough on the subject to believe in its benefits. And, besides this was our little thing. I sprinkled flour across a long countertop. I buckled on a custom leather belt with holsters on either side, containing my two favorite pizza cutters. I had rocked this setup for a while and endured more than my share of mocking. Still, the holsters were convenient, and I thought they were pretty cool. I did a couple of deep breathing exercises I had learned once in therapy and tried to let go of the strange start to my day. They worked a little and I relaxed a bit. Being in the kitchen helped. Though it wasn¡¯t much, the kitchen was my refuge. In here, I was commander of the ingredients, an artisan of the dough. It was early still and quiet. Soon, more pizza peons would be arriving, goofing off, and complaining. I launched into my prep work with a Zen-like approach, knowing that any minute, the momentary calm would be lost. Skinny as I was, my forearms were strong from years of button-mashing and gaming. Striated tendons flexed as I punched mounds of dough. I imagined the dough balls were the heads of my coworkers or strange boss beasts from Ogre-Splat. I shouldered a nozzle-tipped, plastic bag of pizza sauce like it was a gun and fired red blobs onto the center of each dough circle. SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! ¡°HEAD SHOT! HEAD SHOT! HEAD SHOT!¡± I shouted. That¡¯s when I noticed Sola Fuego staring at me. A waitress. Twenty-four, gorgeous, with honey-tanned skin. I always had a crush on her, but never dared to mention it. She looked at me and smiled, tying on her server apron. ¡°Kicking ass and taking names, huh?¡± Nervous, I pointed at the pizzas. ¡°Oh, hey, Sola. Hah. I was just¡ªplaying with myself.¡± ¡°Sounds exciting. You¡¯re a funny bird, Sam Wynbrook.¡± She exited the kitchen with a giggle. I palmed my face. ¡°Really, Sam? Playing with yourself? Headshots? You dumbass!¡± A moment later, my expression changed. ¡°Wait a minute. She knew my name. She called me Sam.¡± I was all smiles now. Sola Fuego had, in fact, called me by my name. ---- I grabbed a roll of sliced pepperoni and tossed the pieces like ninja stars. I impressed myself. Each one landed with good accuracy¡ªevenly spaced on the pies. Ten minutes later, eight baked pizzas cooled on the counter. SHIIING! I cross-drew my pizza cutters from their holsters. The razor-sharp blades gleamed under fluorescent lights. I slashed them down with savage, crisscross cuts. SWIP! SWIP! SWIP! Each stroke made fast work of dividing the pizzas. I twirled the pizza cutters around my fingers and holstered them like a wild west gunslinger. I stood there, dusted my hands off, and admired my handiwork, only to be interrupted by a sarcastic hand clap from behind. ¡°Great job. You made pizzas.¡± It was Jackie. ¡°I need you to go find Todd. He¡¯s AWOL, as usual, and I need him suited up and ready to go.¡± ¡°Why do I have to find him? You¡¯re the manager.¡± Jackie put an arm around me, shaking her head as she led me towards the door. ¡°Sam, Sam, Sam¡­ I know you¡¯ve mentioned wanting to become assistant manager. It¡¯s decisive moments like these that can demonstrate team spirit and initiative. Mmmkay?¡± I bit back a scowl. Jackie had been holding that carrot over my head for two years now. Still, I wanted a promotion, and Jackie was the only one who could give it to me. As we parted ways in the hallway, she yelled out one final command. ¡°IF HE¡¯S IN THE BATHROOM AGAIN, REMIND HIM OF OUR POLICY, MMMKAY?!¡± I turned the corner and walked down the rear employee hallway. I paused at Jackie¡¯s Employee of the Month plaque and promptly ripped it off the wall. ¡°TAKE YOUR MMMKAY AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS!¡± ¡°Whoa! Easy, tiger¡­¡± I turned around. Sola stood there, eyes wide, a stack of pizza trays under her arm. ¡°Wow. From playing with yourself to playing with fire. You¡¯re full of surprises.¡± I watched her go. I knew I shouldn¡¯t risk peeking at her ass, but I couldn¡¯t help myself. I stared at the round, supple curves, hypnotized as they bounced with each step. Sola glanced back and caught me looking. She waved a naughty finger at me. Embarrassed, I walked off in the other direction, wondering how much worse this day could get. ---- I coughed my way into the bathroom, batting through a thick haze of marijuana smoke that was streaming from a closed stall. ¡°Really, Todd? Kids are gonna be here in fifteen minutes.¡± ¡°Tell them to fuck off. I¡¯m not sharing,¡± a voice giggled. I pounded on the stall door. ¡°C¡¯mon, man. You been in here twenty minutes and you know the policy¡­ if I don¡¯t tell Jackie I smelled a number two¡ªshe¡¯s gonna write you up.¡± ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll take a shit if you help me wipe.¡± ¡°Oh, grow up, dude.¡± The stall door flung open. There, Todd stood, dressed head-to-toe in his Rat E. Cheddar mascot costume. He coughed a few times causing puffs of smoke to waft out of the rat¡¯s mouth. ¡°The fuck you lookin¡¯ at?¡± Todd grunted. I shook my head, ¡°Nothing.¡± ¡°Naw. I seen the way you look at me. You think you¡¯re better than me, don¡¯t you?¡± I stifled a laugh. It was hard not to giggle at a five-foot-tall, intoxicated rodent, talking shit. ¡°Look, Todd, let¡¯s just get out of here, man.¡± ¡°Fuck that!¡± Todd shoved me. I looked at him, unsure. Was this really happening? Todd lifted his rat dukes. ¡°Let¡¯s go, pussy. You can catch these paws.¡± I raised my palms in a peaceful gesture. ¡°I¡¯m not fighting you, Todd.¡± He cocked a fist back. ¡°Then I¡¯mma kick your¡ª SHUNK! His threat was cut short. I stood there, blinking, drenched in blood. It was everywhere. Pooling on the floor. Dripping from the walls. Spurting from his neck. Only, I didn¡¯t see a head. Bits of gooey flesh and brain matter were splattered across the floor. I trembled. My eyes traced from the gaping hole in the ceiling, to the large metal trunk that had flattened Todd¡¯s head. The chest lay open, atop his crushed skull, beaming a translucent hologram into the air. I couldn¡¯t believe what I was seeing. Hovering mid-air, a few feet away, the twinkling icon looked like a golden shield from one of my video games. 2 - INSTANT ARMAGEDDON I felt something warm and slimy on my face. I reached up and peeled it off. It was Todd¡¯s eyeball. ¡°¡­ffffffUUUCK!¡± I flung it onto the floor, my hands shaking, fingers wet and red. The wet eye stared up at me from the ground. Todd¡¯s headless body spasmed and twitched as more blood spurted from his torn stump of a neck. His Nikes and hands shuddered a few more moments before finally going limp. I was paralyzed with fear¡ªfrozen in place, my feet locked to the ground. My gaze returned to the shimmering hologram. The golden shield pulsed hypnotically in the air as if beckoning to be touched. I had seen these sort of things before in the many video games I had played since childhood. The metal trunk looked like the sort of thing football teams had on their sidelines to hold equipment. But the hologram above it, made me think of loot crates that I earned in video games by completing quests or discovering hidden parts of game maps. None of it made any sense. What was a loot crate or equipment trunk doing here in the real world? And why did it happen to fall through the roof of Rat E. Cheddar¡¯s Pizza Parlor and crush my co-worker¡¯s head? Todd was a dick, but he didn¡¯t deserve to go out like this. The hologram mesmerized me. The shield glistened, its golden aura swirling like fiery embers in the air. I reached out to touch it¡ªbloody fingertips quivering as my hand got near. The tip of my index finger pierced the image, passing straight through it. The icon flashed and then disappeared as a brief fanfare chimed and a pop-up window replaced it mid-air. It was a translucent, rounded rectangle with no dimension. It looked like a computer notification that had somehow broken through the screen. I read its words, but was equally entranced, as my fingers swiped through it like a mirage. Item Acquired: Blitz Max Protect Shield x1. Repels enemy attacks for 15 seconds. I stumbled backwards, banging my hip on a steel sink. Pain exploded throughout the joint, snapping me out of my stupor. I turned and caught sight of myself in the mirror. I was splattered with red goo and cerebral mush. Curly, wet hair clumped to my forehead, leaking dark crimson down my face. I looked like the infamous climax scene from Carrie. ¡°Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!¡± I clawed at my face, swiping at blood and brain tissue. The next few moments were a blur. My feet were moving and so was my body. I darted into the kitchen and scooped Count Basil into my rucksack, when¡ª SHUNK! ¡ªanother loot crate crashed through the ceiling. A new gaming hologram popped up. This one was some kind of futuristic rifle. I shouldered my rucksack and sprinted into the hallway. Blood seeped out from beneath the closed janitor¡¯s closet. I stepped over it as the building rocked from more impacts. SHUNK! SHUNK! SHUNK! I heard blood-curdling screams. Crumbling drywall and dust rained from the ceiling. I dashed towards the exit. My stride was shaky. Unsteady. The walls and ceiling seemed to morph, warping diagonally as if I was inside a funhouse, tripping on acid. I was almost at the rear door when a bloody body stumbled out in front of me. It was Sola. She screamed, shivering, blood dripping down her face. She and I stared at each other, terrified. ¡°J-J-Jackie,¡± she stammered. WHAM! The roof of the hallway behind us caved in. Another metal trunk smashed to the floor. Its lid popped open, revealing a futuristic helmet hologram. I grabbed Sola¡¯s hand and made a beeline for the door, tugging her along. We burst through the rear door, into instant Armageddon. Distant sirens and car horns competed with the sounds of smashing metal and crackling fire. The street was filled with screaming people fleeing for their lives. Vehicles careened out of control, smashing into one another, plowing over people, smearing human jelly stains over the asphalt. Cars slammed into the sides of buildings, exploding¡ªtheir drivers trapped inside, screaming, clawing through flames. A man ran by, warning for us to run. ¡°GET THE HELL OUTTA HE¡ª¡° KA-SPLOOSH! He exploded into a gush of red¡ªa metal chest instantly burying half of his body into the sidewalk. More and more trunks plummeted towards the ground. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! They landed with thundering force, one after another, obliterating everything in their path. We ran... ¡­past light poles and fire hydrants sheared from their bases. Water gushed, crackling with electrical sparks. Bodies convulsed on the ground, sizzling from electrocution. BOOM! Buildings erupted with fire, spitting flames out of broken windows. The inferno danced across the destruction, carried along by a wind so strong, it knocked people straight off their feet. The sky above was a swirling, purple-black vortex streaked with lightning. Sola crossed herself as we ran through it all. ¡°My Abuela was right. I should have gone back to church.¡± As the metal chests slammed down, they popped open, projecting sports-themed, gaming holograms. In a strange way, they served as digital tombstones for the people they killed. I spotted a department store down the street. People were streaming out of the large front window pane, carrying looted items. ¡°Come on! This way!¡± I shouted. We picked our way through the maelstrom, leaping over dead bodies and dashing in between twisted mounds of former vehicles. Equipment trunks continued to tumble from the sky, crushing everything below. I yanked Sola out of the path of one just in time. The poor soul next to us wasn¡¯t as fortunate. He exploded into a cloud of pink mist. His blood splattered, adding to the red stains already coating us. His jawbone and teeth slid down the front of my shirt. ¡°AHHH!¡± We dashed forward and dove inside the department store. ¡°What¡¯s going on?!¡± Sola shouted, pointing at the metal trunks. "What the hell are those things?!¡± "I don¡¯t know! Gear trunks? Loot crates?!" ¡°What?¡± ¡°Treasure boxes from video games.¡± ¡°What¡­?¡± She scrunched her brow, ¡°Like in Sonic?¡± Two looters hustled past us, carrying TVs. They leaped out of the window as¡ª WHAM! ¡ªa trunk splattered their entrails across the pavement. A hand plopped down in front of us, twitching like a dying bug. ¡°No. Not like Sonic.¡± I looked around the store. People were grabbing whatever they could, using the end of the world as an opportunity to enrich themselves. ¡°Oh, hell yeah! I¡¯ve been wanting this game!¡± one of them shouted. ¡°It¡¯s like Christmas! Best day of my life!¡± screamed another. I spotted a door labeled ¡°Employees Only¡± in the rear corner of the store. We scrambled past the maddened looters and through the door. We hustled down the rear hallway, descended a flight of steps, and crammed into a small employee washroom in the basement. We pressed together in silence, holding each other, struggling to catch our breath. The room rocked and quaked as more loot crates pummeled the street above. I looked at Sola. ¡°You okay?¡± I asked. She shook her head no. ¡°Me neither.¡± Her eyes flooded with tears. She trembled, raising her bloody hands, looking at her blood-soaked outfit. ¡°Oh my God¡­ Jackie¡­¡± I thought for a minute. ¡°Look, I saw some clothes up there. I think I can get us some. We¡¯ll stay here for a minute. Wash up. Figure things out.¡± Sola nodded. I moved for the door, but she grabbed my hand. ¡°Don¡¯t leave.¡± ¡°It¡¯s okay. I¡¯ll be right back.¡± I headed upstairs, back into the insanity. I peered out of the front window¡ªmore flames, more trunks, more carnage. Inside, people were fighting over merch. Biting, punching, clawing to grab a deal. I moved through the melee and got bulldozed by a large man in flannel, toting a charcoal grill. I got back to my feet and sprinted to the clothing department. I wasn¡¯t selective. I grabbed whatever I could off the racks and ran back to the washroom. I entered without knocking and was surprised to see Sola in her bra and panties. Her bloody clothes lay in a rumpled pile on the floor. She was splashing water onto her body, washing off the gooey Jackie residue. Even coated in blood, her body was incredible. Her waist was slender, tapering to curvy hips. A gemstone was perfectly nestled in a belly button piercing. Her breasts were every bit as curvy and perfect as I had imagined. She glanced over and caught me staring. ¡°You could take a picture and I can autograph it for you.¡± ¡°Sorry,¡± I said, looking away. ¡°Here. I got you these.¡± I extended a handful of clothes. Sola grabbed them and quickly pulled on a new shirt and shorts. They were tight and form-fitting. I did my best to resist looking at her body again, but I was failing miserably. I took off my rucksack, and opened it to check on Count Basil. ¡°Hey, little buddy. You all good in there?¡± Sola looked at me like I was crazy. ¡°You have a plant in your backpack? And you¡¯re talking to it?¡± ¡°So?¡± She shook her head with a smile. ¡°It¡¯s kind of cute, actually.¡± I closed the rucksack and peeled out of my Rat E. Cheddar¡¯s shirt, leather holster belt, and blood-soaked slacks. I stood there, bare-chested, in my tighty-whiteys. Self-conscious, I cupped my crotch with both hands. Sola clicked her teeth, taking it all in. ¡°What?¡± I blushed. ¡°Well, if you¡¯re gonna be a stripper¡ªyou¡¯re gonna have to learn about these things called ¡®gyms¡¯.¡± I moved to the sink and doused water over my face and hair. Pink juice sloshed everywhere. I scrubbed my chest and forearms, then grabbed a stack of paper towels and dried myself off. Sola watched as I pulled on a new shirt and a fresh pair of jeans. I tugged at the shirt, but it wouldn¡¯t reach my belt-line. My stomach was exposed. ¡°Shit. It¡¯s too short.¡± I inspected my leather belt. Both pizza cutters were still in their respective holsters. I strapped it on. Sola started giggling and finally broke into a full-bore laugh. ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡± She pointed at my shirt. I turned and looked in the mirror. The shirt was a pink cutoff. Emblazoned across the chest in bold letters were the words: ¡°BADASS GILF.¡± ¡°Oh fuck!¡± I scowled. ¡°No¡­ no¡­¡± Sola giggled, ¡°It really suits you.¡± Despite my embarrassment, I liked the sound of her laughter. I looked at her shirt. It was a simple, black T-shirt with a butterfly logo and the words: ¡°Premium Bish.¡± ¡°What? Do you wanna switch?¡± she grinned. I couldn¡¯t help but laugh. I waved no and we got quiet again as the severity of our situation set in. ¡°Sooooo, Jackie¡­?¡± I said. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°She was complaining, saying how I show too much cleavage. And I was like, ¡®Think about it. Why do you think dads keep bringing their families here? It ain¡¯t for the pizza or the rat.¡¯ And then she just got¡ªsmooshed¡ªby one of those trunk thingies.¡± ¡°Smooshed?¡± ¡°Smooshed.¡± We looked at each other, both fighting back guilty smiles. ¡°But did she say, ¡®mmmkay¡¯ first?¡± I snickered. We cracked up in an unhinged spark of levity. Sola pointed at me. ¡°What about you? What happened?¡± ¡°I was with Todd. Poor bastard took it right in the rat head. At least it was instant¡­ and he was high as fuck. Probably never felt a thing.¡± She nodded, pulling her hair back into a pony-tail. ¡°So. What do we do now?¡± I pulled out my phone. ¡°You got family here?¡± Sola shook her head no. I waited for her to elaborate, but it became clear she wasn¡¯t going to. I dismissed a bunch of missed notifications. J-Dawg8: bro, what¡¯s happening?!?! J-Dawg8: yo ¡ª it¡¯s the end times J-Dawg8: I don¡¯t wanna die today, bro J-Dawg8: can¡¯t meet jesus like this J-Dawg8: I ain¡¯t been living right I dialed my mom and an error message popped up: No Signal ¡°Shit. Any luck with yours?¡± Sola showed me the same error on her screen. I looked at her, concerned. ¡°I need to check on my mom.¡± ¡°What about your dad?¡± ¡°Died when I was three. Heart attack playing pro football.¡± ¡°Oh. I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°Yeah, well¡­ I never knew him.¡± ---- Back at the front of the store, we peered out of the shattered window pane. The metal trunk downpour had stopped, but not without taking a devastating toll. There were dead bodies everywhere¡­ cars, burning in flaming heaps¡­ survivors, running through carnage. I gripped the straps of my rucksack, ¡°How can we get through all this?¡± ¡°We can take my bike.¡± ¡°Your bike?¡± I raised an eyebrow. 3 - BUTCHERS TABLE ¡°Hold up¡­ you work at Rat E. Cheddar¡¯s, and you have a goddamn Ducati?!" "So? I like nice things." We were in an underground parking garage, staring at Sola¡¯s red and black Ducati Diavel. It was pure badassery on two wheels. The vanity plate read: "N-FUEGO." She flicked the kickstand up, then pointed at her T-shirt. "I¡¯m a ''Premium Bish,'' remember?" She smirked and swung a leg over the bike. "You coming?" I wedged in behind her. It was a tight fit. My crotch ended up right against her ass. I wasn¡¯t complaining. She glanced back with a knowing smile. "Comfy back there?¡± "Yeah. I¡¯m good." ¡°I¡¯ll bet.¡± "Hang on," Sola warned as she revved the engine. "She goes fast." VROOM¡­ VROOM¡­ I wrapped my arms around her¡ªhalf enjoying it¡­ half feeling like a little bitch. I tried to play it cool. ¡° Hey, this isn¡¯t so ba¡ª¡° VRRROOOOOOOOM! ¡°¡ªAAAAAAUUUGHHHH!" We rocketed out of the garage. I lurched backward, clutching her tighter, fighting gravity and my dignity in equal measure. I couldn¡¯t help it. A high pitch yelp escaped my throat. I was instantly embarrassed. Sola peeked back again, laughed, and shook her head. ¡°You¡¯re a funny bird, Sam Wynbrook.¡± ---- On the streets, we faced the sheer magnitude of the devastation. We snaked around City Hall as the battered remains of downtown Philly greeted us like a carnival of rot. Earlier, this block had been alive with weekend shoppers, street performers, and food trucks. People had been laughing and smiling, eating soft pretzels and cheesesteaks. But, now¡­? The aftermath spread out before us like a butcher¡¯s table¡ªfull of sharp metal and bloody meat. Sola threaded the motorcycle through a maze of mangled steel and flesh. Charred corpses slumped in gridlocked cars, their flesh fused to melted upholstery. Blackened, overturned buses lay frozen in time, their windows full of skeletal hands grasping for an escape that never came. ¡°Jesus¡­¡± Warbling sirens groaned in the distance as panicked survivors clawed through the ruins, wailing, searching for the remains of loved ones. Others scrambled by, like newly-exposed insects seeking cover. News and police helicopters thundered by overhead, taking a survey of the damage. The hailstorm of metal trunks had punched through the city like the fist of a wrathful god, smashing through glass, brick, and bone without discrimination. The air was thick with the stench of scorched metal and burnt plastic. The skyscrapers stood, weary, pockmarked with holes, their steel guts spilling onto the streets. Some still burned, thick black smoke curling skyward, drawn toward the purple-black vortex above. It churned like a festering wound in the fabric of reality, the edges writhing like some unnatural, spreading infection. At its core, the vortex dilated¡ªpulsing open like a cosmic birth canal. A portal. Shimmering light bled through, shifting and twisting, as if stars were collapsing on themselves, devouring their own existence. Military jets circled from a distance, keeping watch like curious bugs. ¡°Hold on!¡± Sola shouted. She swerved the bike to the right, hopping a curb and¡ª WHAM! ¡ªnarrowly avoided a smoldering 18-wheeler as it careened into the side of a building. The Ducati sped off as a huge explosion erupted behind us. I peeked back as a raging fireball bloomed into the sky. ¡°Holy shit!¡± ---- Mom¡¯s neighborhood was no better. It was like riding through a horror diorama. North Broad Street was a tragic portrait of modern life, abruptly terminated. There were vehicle pile-ups¡­ a singed, city bus wrapped around a telephone pole¡­ abandoned cars and spilled suitcases cluttering the streets. Torn, bloodied clothes flapped on downed power lines. The smell of death and spilled gasoline filled the air. Frenzied parents sprinted, carrying screaming children in their arms, seeking safe haven. But there was none to be found. Destruction was everywhere. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. And then there were the bodies. So many bodies. Torsos dangling out of windows, some stripped of skin¡ªbones jutting through, guts spilling below like spaghetti. Sola gasped¡ª ¡°Oh my God¡­¡± ¡ªseeing a charred mother¡¯s corpse, draped over her baby carriage. Its wheels spun lazily in the wind. I spotted a sheared-off face, stuck to a stop sign¡ªthe torn edges of skin burnt like an old photograph¡ªmouth frozen in a silent, eternal scream. Many of the corpses were crushed flat, in craters beneath metal trunks¡ªthe sides of which, bloomed with popped sacks of boneless jelly and meat. We reached my mother¡¯s apartment building and parked. The brick facade was marred with soot, gutted with holes from fallen chests. Smoke bled from its ruptured frame. We climbed off the bike and stared up at the smoldering edifice. It looked unsteady, as though it might topple at any moment. I clenched my fists, steeling myself as I took the first step. Sola grabbed me, pulling me close in a surprising moment of affection. ¡°Be careful,¡± she warned. I looked at her and nodded, then walked up the steps and ducked inside the smoky front doors. I entered a veil of darkness. My heart pounded through my chest. The air was thick and heavy. I paused for a minute, trying to let my eyes adjust to the darkness. ¡°Hello? Is anyone in here?¡± I called out, my voice echoing down the hallways. The silence was eerie and oppressive. I took a cautious step forward, my footfall lost in shadow. The black seemed to stretch endlessly in all directions like an ocean of ink. The only reprieve were the intermittent sparks from exposed wires in the walls. I heard wailing in the distance, along with the occasional scream. My pulse quickened. ¡°Hello?¡± I said again. ¡°Who is that?! Are you okay?!¡± No one answered. The stillness of the dark was unsettling. I felt as if I were wandering the ruins of a long-dead planet, abandoned to shadow and silence. Sweat beaded my forehead. A shiver ran down my spine, raising the small hairs on my neck. I fumbled my phone, dropping it to the floor. I felt around, found it, and turned on its flashlight. The small beam glowed dimly, casting eerie shadows that danced along the walls. My mind played tricks on me as I thought I saw some of them move. The meager cone of light did little to dispel the darkness, but it was enough to reveal a narrow path ahead. Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself and moved onward, each step drawing me further into the void. The elevator was dead. The buttons didn¡¯t illuminate and the doors were jammed shut. I made my way up the emergency exit stairwell. The steps were littered with spilled toys and clothes¡ªevidence of families who had scrambled to get their loved ones out. I hoped that they made it to safety. I reached the 6th floor, where my mom¡¯s apartment was. I coughed, batting my way through the noxious fumes of melted housewares. I reached the apartment door and was surprised to find it cracked open. I pushed it inward. ¡°Mom? Hello?¡± There was no answer. I stepped inside, slow and steady. ¡°Mom, you in here?¡± I walked down the front hallway and turned into the kitchen. That¡¯s when I saw her and my stomach dropped and turned to ice. She had been sitting at the kitchen table wrapping a birthday present for me. Now her chair was overturned, her body crushed by a fallen metal trunk. This one projected a glowing whistle icon. I broke down in tears. I was torn between terror and sorrow. Seeing the half-wrapped gift on the table reminded me that despite her imperfections, my mother still cared. And now she was gone. I flinched as a hand touched my shoulder. It was Sola. ¡°Oh no! That¡¯s her?¡± I nodded, tearfully. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry.¡± She pulled me into an embrace, guiding my face away. ---- We sat on the curb outside. I reached inside the gift box and pulled out a card. Sola read it for me. ¡°Never stop dreaming. Happy Birthday. Love, Mom.¡± I took the card from her and stuffed it inside my rucksack. I reached back inside the gift box and pulled out a silver necklace with a gamepad charm. I broke down, burying my head in Sola¡¯s lap. Surprised, she gently rubbed my back, ¡°At least she didn¡¯t suffer.¡± I nodded. I raised my head, wiped my face, and stared at the silver necklace and charm. ¡°Here, let me help you,¡± she said. Sola took it and draped it around my neck, fastening the clasp. ¡°There. It looks good on you.¡± I peered into her eyes. ¡°Thanks.¡± The moment hung in awkward silence. I cleared my throat and pulled a battery operated shortwave radio out of my rucksack. ¡°Mom always kept this for emergencies. Said it was my grandpa¡¯s.¡± I clicked it on and worked the dial until static gave way to a crackling broadcast signal: ¡°¡­ of the emergency broadcast system. This is not a test. President Warfield has issued the following message to the nation and world at large.¡± ¡°My fellow Americans and citizens of the world, at approximately 10:53 a.m. Eastern Standard Time, a global event transpired that has affected us all. Foreign objects from an unidentifiable source have fallen and caused mass destruction in all major cities across the Earth. I want to assure you all, our military is prepared and is, at this very moment, launching a counter-strike operation to survey and deter any further loss of life. Until we can determine the origin of these objects and the severity of threat that remains, we are advising all citizens to take shelter indoors and remain tuned to this channel for further updates. We have faced colossal threats before and have come out victorious, and we shall do so again.¡± I clicked the radio off. Sola and I exchanged glances. ¡°What do you think is happening?¡± she asked. ¡°I¡¯m not sure.¡± I was startled by the sudden roar of fighter jets scrambling overhead. We rose to our feet as the ground rumbled beneath us. ¡°It¡¯s an aftershock,¡± I said. The sidewalk flexed and the street cracked. Up above, the jets spiraled out of control. ¡°Oh no!¡± Sola gasped. The jets careened out of sight and exploded in the distance with a loud boom. Smoke and flames drifted on the horizon. Then, there was a new sound¡ªlow and resonant¡ªthe hum of unearthly engines. We looked at the swirling vortex in the sky. The portal was completely open¡ªand spaceships were entering Earth¡¯s atmosphere. ---- As they descended beneath the clouds, the spacecraft became more visible and defined. They gleamed of dark metal, their shapes¡ªconical, with flared edges and thrusters propelling them forward. The ships kept coming through the portal. One after another. There were thousands of them. Tiny, reflective glints¡ªentering Earth¡¯s airspace and dispersing across the globe. ¡°Turn the radio back on,¡± Sola said. I clicked the dial. Static crackled and the broadcast resumed. ¡°¡­reports of UAP sightings¡­ that¡¯s unidentified anomalous phenomena¡­ spotted all across the planet. We are standing by to hear if President Warfield will be giving a follow-up address. Again, we repeat, according to associate news agencies around the world, there have been numerous sightings¡­¡± I shut the radio off. ¡°There¡¯s way more going on than what they¡¯re saying. We need to see where those ships are headed.¡± Sola tapped on my leather holsters containing the pizza cutters. ¡°Whoa. Hold on there, cowboy. We don¡¯t know who or what¡¯s in those ships. Besides¡­ all you¡¯ve got is pizza cutters, a plant, and a radio.¡± I nodded, ¡°Yeah.¡± My expression grew more resolute. ¡°But whoever they are¡­ they killed my mom.¡± I drew a pizza cutter and twirled it, mind lost in thought. It was magic in my hands¡ªspinning with the precision of a master gunman. I slammed it back in the holster. ¡°Shit¡­ I just¡­ I can¡¯t let it go.¡± Sola studied my eyes, full of pain and anguish. She nodded. ¡°Fuck it. Let¡¯s go.¡± She hopped on the Ducati. I slid in behind her. 4 - WELCOME TO SLAYER BOWL Sola steered through the destruction as I kept my eyes on the skyline. More ships arced overhead, gliding over the city, descending in the distance. ¡°They look like dropships,¡± I shouted. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Landing vehicles. Used to drop equipment or troops.¡± More fighter jets screamed overhead, racing to intercept the alien craft. As they neared, they bounced haplessly off some sort of invisible barrier, corkscrewing downward in flames. My eyes widened as a falling jet spiraled right at us. ¡°Watch out!¡± Sola banked hard left and narrowly avoided the craft as it erupted into a hellish firestorm behind us. I tightened my grip on her waist and shouted above the wind, ¡°Close one!¡± The middle of the city was congested as a mass exodus of survivors made their way on foot, pouring through every thoroughfare like a stampede of frenzied insects. ¡°Where will they go?¡± Sola asked. ¡°If this same thing is happening around the world¡­ nowhere.¡± As we rode through the crowd, arms jutted out¡ªbatting and clawing¡ªaccompanied by desperate, pleading voices. ¡°Help us!¡± ¡°Please! Take us with you!¡± ¡°Gimme that bike!¡± Sola sped up, tearing away from the crowd. She looked over her shoulder and shook her head. ¡°There¡¯s nothing we can do for them.¡± One of the dropships buzzed by close overhead. Its low altitude offered the most detailed look we had gotten at one of the crafts. The ship¡¯s rear engine crackled a neon blue. Its cargo bay was cracked open, allowing me to see silhouettes pacing inside. Defying physics, the craft veered vertically, at an impossible climb angle. It cleared a skyscraper and zipped out of sight. I pressed my lips tight. As I thought about mom, my sorrow turned to fury. The skittering heartbeat in my chest morphed into the strong, thumping rhythm of a war drum. We made it to the Philadelphia International Airport. There, we passed the wreckage of numerous crashed planes and jets, smoke still rising from their burning husks. Soldiers, firefighters, police, and emergency responders weren¡¯t busy attending to the downed aircraft. Nor were they attempting crowd control. Instead, they were further out, past the runways, staring at the spectacle in the sky. They were surrounded by thousands of civilian gawkers. Firetrucks and police cruisers were parked, lights swirling. As we rode towards the crowd, no one attempted to stop us. Everyone was staring at the fleet of dropships pooling in the airspace above. Sola parked the bike and we dismounted. ¡°There¡¯s so many of them,¡± she said. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, grasping the game charm on my necklace. ¡°And they weren¡¯t invited.¡± We slipped into the crowd, stunned at the size of the multitude. Desperate families huddled together. Reporters aimed cameras and rambled into digital recorders. Curious onlookers scoped the scene. Religious zealots shouted, announcing the end of the world. Cops and soldiers yelled into walkie-talkies¡ªguns drawn, aimed with shaky hands. Firefighters stared, mouths agape in drenched, soot-stained uniforms. Suddenly, a sonic note blasted throughout the atmosphere. It was so loud, its force so startling, the shockwave knocked everyone off their feet. It sounded like some sort of galactic brass instrument, heralding the beginning of a regal event. The central dropship, which was different in shape and color from the rest, descended towards the ground, its rear hatch opening. ¡°Look,¡± Sola pointed. Thousands of shiny, metallic spheres flew out of the rear hatch. They zipped across the sky, spreading out in a circular formation across the horizon. Some of the younger cops and soldiers instinctively fired their guns. This was met by multiple screams of ¡°Hold your fire! Hold your fire!¡± There was a collective gasp among the thousands of people watching. In a coordinated effort, the spheres all projected holographic beams in various angles and directions. Collectively, the beams united to form the ¡°Skybotron¡±¡ªa giant, circular display that spanned the hemisphere of the planet. It reminded me of the animated scoreboards that encircled sports arenas. Again, a sonic fanfare blasted through the air. This time, people managed to stay on their feet. The Skybotron filled with the image of two alien creatures. One was blue¡ªits face constructed from nothing more than a cluster of eyes. The other was orange and amphibious in nature. It had pronounced gills and the angular lips of a fish. Eye-Face started speaking¡ªa formerly imperceptible mouth opening between eyeball lips. At first, his language was a series of wet, guttural smacks and hisses. However, that was quickly replaced by an automated translation I could understand. ¡°Greetings to our octillions of viewers across the multiverse. I¡¯m Blink Cornopticus.¡± ¡°And I¡¯m Gill Flippord,¡± the orange Fish-Face chimed in. ¡°Welcome to Slayer Bowl 342!¡± Sola looked at me with disbelief. ¡°The Intergalactic Slayer League is proud to present the most visceral combat sports event in the multiverse,¡± Blink continued. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°That¡¯s right, Blink,¡± Gill chimed. ¡°This season was absolutely electrifying¡ªfilled with some of the most spectacular and gruesome kills you¡¯d ever want to see.¡± ¡°You said it,¡± Blink nodded. ¡°So gather the family to watch the best of bloodshed, the apex of annihilation! Slayer Bowl! The ISL¡¯s top warriors will face off against some of the most ruthless monsters imaginable in a winner-take-all championship for the ages.¡± ¡°Oooh, I can¡¯t wait for this one!¡± Gill chortled like a giddy kid. ¡°You got that right, buddy. Better strap in,¡± Blink added, ¡°because today¡ªrivalries are renewed and grudges turn gory.¡± ¡°Oh yes!¡± Gill added, ¡°And, of course, fans around the galaxy will be excited to see the ISL¡¯s reigning MVP, Dom Blady, who should be making his triumphant entrance shortly.¡± Blink nodded, ¡°Winner of the past fifteen Slayer Bowls, Dom Blady and the Slaytriots have absolutely dominated the field. Together, with his teammates, Rod Gorekrushki and Jess Smelter, I¡¯m sure they¡¯re raring to go in an all-too-cluttered field of six million warriors. Should be a bloody good time.¡± As the two alien commentators spoke, the Skybotron filled with graphic video replays of past Slayer Bowl contests. Dom Blady, Rod, and Jess were prominently featured. They were humanoid aliens, suited up in gleaming, futuristic, full-body armor, using all manner of weapons to slice, batter, and blast monsters of various kinds. It was barbaric and primal. Dom Blady was tall and muscled. He was older, with salt-and-pepper hair, a square, rugged jaw, and a dimpled chin that looked like it could wink at you. Rod Gorekrushki was less on the eyes. He was a grunt¡ªa brute with a hooked nose that looked like it had been broken a thousand times. Jess was a weathered warrior. She was tall and lean, with a muscular frame that was covered in marks of battle. Her eyes twinkled with ferocity. ¡°Of course, we all know how good Dom is with those patented Blady Bombs,¡± Blink commented. ¡°Absolutely lethal,¡± Gill agreed. In the Skybotron clips, Dom threw several Blady Bombs. Each spiraled perfectly through the air, like steel footballs. As they flew, razor-sharp blades jutted out from their gleaming, metallic surfaces. The bombs struck two gargantuan creatures, slicing through them, exploding¡ªimmediately vaporizing them into piles of green goo. Dom grabbed a glowing orb and ran it into a flashing scoring zone. The montage intercut shots of alien viewers erupting with glee. Blink and Gil¡¯s faces took back over the screen. ¡°And tell our fans where we are, Gil?¡± Blink asked, turning to his co-commentator. ¡°An absolute dump, if you ask me.¡± Gill joked. He referenced a holographic chart. ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­ it says this is¡­ planet Earth.¡± ¡°Earth, huh? Sounds like something my Zarkth coughed up. Well, if it¡¯s as bad as it looks, I can see why Commissioner Krivlax chose it.¡± The Skybotron cycled through more clips of previous Slayer Bowls. The montage showed calm, tranquil planets prior to the games. Then, the video dissolved to show the same planets, completely decimated afterwards. ¡°Well, whatever this hellhole is¡­¡± Gill said, ¡°just wait till we¡¯re done with it!¡± ¡°Okay, for those fans who are new to Slayer League¡ª¡° Blink began. ¡°How is that even possible?!¡± Gill chuckled. ¡°Slayer Bowl works like this,¡± Blink continued. ¡°A random planet¡­¡± ¡°Random dump,¡± Gill corrected. ¡°¡­is chosen to host the death-match. This world serves as the playing field. Now, unfortunately for the inhabitants, they don¡¯t get a say, nor any forewarning. But, don¡¯t worry. They won¡¯t be around long enough for any of that to matter.¡± ¡°If you ask me,¡± Gill said, ¡°It¡¯s an honor your planet was chosen.¡± Sola turned to me, livid, ¡°What the fuck?! Real people are dying down here and we got, what¡­ alien sportscasters¡­ cracking jokes?¡± ¡°It¡¯s all a big joke to them,¡± I seethed. Blink pointed at a graphic on the Skybotron. It showed a team of armed warriors and a cluster of monsters facing each other, ready to battle. In between them, there was a pulsing, glowing sphere. ¡°Slayer Bowl is a four quarter championship that lasts 168 hours, the equivalent of one Earth week. Each quarter is 36 hours long with two 6 hour time-outs in between, and a 12 hour halftime. And trust me, our warriors, will need every moment of those breaks to rest and heal, because Slayer Bowl is brutal and ruthless.¡± ¡°There are no resets or respawns here,¡± Gill added. ¡°If you die, you¡¯re dead.¡± ¡°That¡¯s right. And the goal is to survive and score enough points to top the scoreboard. And how are those points awarded? First, by killing monsters. Lots of them.¡± ¡°They don¡¯t call it Slayer Bowl for no reason.¡± Gill chirped. ¡°Our warriors must deal creative kills and spectacular slaughters if they hope to gain fans and woo a little help from sponsors.¡± ¡°And we loooove our sponsors,¡± Blink smiled as the Skybotron flashed an insta-ad of Blink holding up a tube of SlickzSee Eye Lube. The ad dissolved and Blink continued, ¡°The second way to gain points is with orbs.¡± The Skybotron showed a series of glowing spheres populating across the world. Blink pointed at the graphic. ¡°Each quarter, orbs will randomly spawn across the game map. The warriors must locate them, maintain possession, and advance them into scoring zones to score orbdowns. These yield big points and are essential for warriors to advance to the next quarter. Any warrior who hasn¡¯t scored an orbdown before time expires on the quarter, is eliminated.¡± ¡°Yes, and it won¡¯t be easy.¡± Gill cracked his knuckles or flippers or whatever the hell they were. ¡°The field is filled with hazards, distracting side-quests, and monsters who love to play defense.¡± ¡°Right,¡± Blink nodded. ¡°The real stars of the show are the monsters. These are some of the most ferocious creatures in the multiverse. Each quarter will introduce new and more dangerous beasts, escalating in class and threat. So, our warriors, better keep their eyes open.¡± ¡°And speaking of eyes open,¡± Gill said, ¡°our combatants must watch their backs. While warriors aren¡¯t allowed to kill one another until the Sudden Death Final, there¡¯s nothing in the rulebook against treachery or sabotage. Alliances are key to surviving longer in the game, but can you ever really trust anyone?¡± ¡°Indeed,¡± Blink grinned. ¡°And if a warrior is badly injured or just can¡¯t handle the pressure, they do have the option to tap out. Although, receiving a DNF is widely considered a badge of shame.¡± ¡°Cowards!¡± Gill pounded his fist. ¡°It grinds my gills! They push a button, get a lousy ¡®DID NOT FINISH¡¯ and a chance to compete next year. It shouldn¡¯t be allowed!¡± ¡°Easy there, champ¡­ don¡¯t get your fins in a bunch,¡± Blink touched Gil¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Sorry,¡± Gill smoothed his scales. ¡°I lost it there for a minute.¡± Blink continued, ¡°At the conclusion of the fourth quarter, only the top 2 warriors on the scoreboard can compete in the Sudden Death Final! There, they must combat one another in a no-rules deathmatch for the right to face the Final Boss.¡° Gil¡¯s scales fluttered with excitement. ¡°A surprise creature so big and powerful¡ªthat even we don¡¯t know what it can do.¡± ¡°The last warrior standing will take on the Final Boss, and if they are victorious, they shall be crowned Slayer Bowl Champion and receive the coveted Golden Slayer Orb!¡± ¡°Now, we¡¯re not savages,¡± Gill smiled. ¡°To help the warriors, the ISL has seeded this world with hidden items, equipment upgrades, and in-game enhancements, which will prove critical as warriors fight for survival and for each and every point.¡± ¡°There is one final, delicious twist,¡± Blink grinned. ¡°After each successful orbdown, and at other random times during play, warriors will be randomly teleported to new parts of the global game map. This keeps the playing field unpredictable and really shakes things up!¡± ¡°You just gotta love the element of surprise!¡± Gill nodded. Another dropship released an army of floating robots with striped paint jobs. ¡°Ah, here come the refbots.¡± Blink laughed. ¡°Everyone¡¯s favorite,¡± Gill quipped, sarcastically. The Skybotron flashed fan reactions to the refbots. Many made obscene gestures with their hands, fins, and claws. I couldn¡¯t believe what I was seeing or hearing. Slayer Bowl? Were they for real? I tapped Sola on the arm and said, ¡°Come on. Let¡¯s get a closer look.¡± 5 - AS IF YOU NEVER EXISTED Sola and I worked our way to the front of the crowd. She stayed close to me, holding my arm, leaning in to speak, ¡°That announcer said we won¡¯t be around long enough for this to matter.¡± ¡°Yeah. To them, Earth is just a game map. And what do you do before a new game? You clear the board.¡± As if on cue, several dropships lowered toward the ground. Their rear cargo gates hissed open like the mouths of expectant gators. People panicked, screaming, fleeing for their lives. Soldiers fanned out, guns raised as a squadron of Abrams tanks and Black Hawks angled into attack positions. Sola and I held steady with others who were staring at the Skybotron, mesmerized. Blink smiled, elated, ¡°Looks like our champions are about to make their grand entrance! Let¡¯s take it down to the field with Zylthia Revelfore. Zylthia?¡± The Skybotron cut to a female alien sportscaster with pronounced duck lips and glowing locks of hair that cycled through colors like an LED gaming keyboard. She excitedly raised her microphone. ¡°Thanks so much, Blink and Gill. Our favorite warriors will soon take the field. Now, before their system jump, I got an opportunity to sit down with Dom Blady and crew to hear what they had to say about this year¡¯s Slayer Bowl.¡± The Skybotron cut to a pre-recorded video of Zylthia, seated across from Dom, Rod, and Jess, in a comfortable studio setting. ¡°Well, I am excited to be here with the Slaytriots! Thank you all for sitting down with me today. Dom, this is your 30th Slayer Bowl! A lot of viewers call you the greatest warrior to ever play the game. I would have to agree. Your thoughts?¡± ¡°Well, you¡¯re too kind,¡± Dom waved it off with a laugh and a wink. ¡°But, we could discuss it¡­ privately¡­ after the match.¡± Zylthia blushed, shifting in her chair. Dom continued, ¡°No. To be honest, we just love to play the game.¡± Zylthia recomposed herself. ¡°Well, why don¡¯t you tell the galaxies¡ªwhat¡¯s your secret? How do you and your team constantly dominate such a brutal sport?¡± Dom thought about it for a moment, then leaned forward in his chair. ¡°Well, the answer is quite simple, really¡­¡± He stared deep in Zylthia¡¯s eyes, with hypnotic effect. ¡°We¡¯re complete badasses. And we¡¯re better than everyone.¡± Rod and Jess gave each other high fives. ¡°And it¡¯s more than that,¡± Dom said. ¡°We also think of the little people.¡± A pre-recorded clip played of Dom visiting the youth ward of an alien hospital. Dom waved to robed younglings and took time to both palm and autograph the bald heads of sick children. ¡°You see, there are so many folks out there that just aren¡¯t as fortunate as us. They haven¡¯t had the opportunities we¡¯ve had. And so, when we get a chance to go out there and kick some monster and warrior ass¡ªwell, it¡¯s like we¡¯re showing these sick kids that they can get off their asses and fight the good fight¡ªjust like we fight ours.¡± A video clip showed Dom throwing one of his Blady Bombs and celebrating as a gelatinous pile of entrails rained down. The video cut back to the alien youths and hospital staff, who were all cheering. He continued, ¡°I feel as though if I can just make one of those pale, weak, little buggers smile¡­ well, then it¡¯s all worth it.¡± Zylthia wiped away a tear and turned. ¡°And what about you, Rod? What¡¯s it like working with the legend, Dom Blady?¡± Rod tapped his head as if there were some loose screws inside. He grunted, trying to get the words out. A moment later, he slapped his face a few times and hung his head, frustrated. Dom put a hand on Rod¡¯s shoulder and said, ¡°He ain¡¯t much for talking. Couple concussions too many. But you¡¯ll see him do his talking on the field.¡± After a confused look, Rod just grunted and nodded in agreement. Zylthia turned her head, ¡°And, what about you, Jess?¡± Jess spoke in an unintelligible alien dialect, and a stiff AI voice translated as subtitles appeared, ¡°Dom leader. He call play. We execute.¡± Zylthia waited for more, but Jess simply stared ahead, silent, like a dog awaiting a command. After an awkward moment, Zylthia swiveled back to Dom. ¡°So tell me, how is it, in a single-winner game, filled with backstabbing and betrayal, that the three of you have continued working as a team?¡± Dom looked at Jess and Rod. They both stiffened. I thought I picked up on an unspoken threat in his gaze. I could see Zylthia squint. Perhaps she was picking up on the energy change in the studio as well. Dom flashed his brilliant smile and said, ¡°Unity.¡± Zylthia cleared her throat, as if she was summoning the resolve to press further. ¡°There are some that say you only keep Rod and Jess around to help pad your stats. Then, they intentionally shave points to miss qualifying for the Sudden Death Final. This allows you to make it there alone. How do you respond to these allegations? What would you say to your critics?¡± Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Dom broke into an uncomfortably long and loud laugh. Then, he lurched forward, with red-faced rage, pointing at the camera. ¡°Screw you!¡± Back to her live shot, Zylthia clutched her mic and smiled nervously. ¡°Well, Blink and Gil, there you have it from the man himself. Dom and his team are ready. Back to you!¡± ¡°There he is!¡± Gill exclaimed on the Skybotron. I watched as Dom Blady appeared atop the cargo ramp on one ship. The Skybotron cut to several shots of alien watch parties across the multiverse, where creatures clapped and cheered with delight. They chanted ¡°MVP¡± in their respective languages¡ªtheir cheers subtitled on the screen. Dom sauntered down the ramp, waving like a triumphant war hero returning home. Rod and Jess shuffled behind him like obedient minions. The three of them were clad in ISL-branded warrior gear, consisting of interlocking armor plates. The suits were angular, with the aggressive lines of stealth fighters. Reinforced joints whined with what appeared to be servos and hydraulic mechanisms. Glowing power lines snaked between their armor plates to back-mounted power supplies. Their shoulders were protected by oversized pauldrons that nearly rose to the level of their visored helmets. Each of them wore forearm gauntlets, featuring touchscreens. Dom, Rod, and Jess took their helmets off and mugged for the camera drones. Because Sola and I were at the front of the crowd, Dom and his crew were close as they walked by. I kept my eyes trained on him. Whatever Slayer Bowl was, Dom was its star and was partially responsible for my mother¡¯s death. I balled my hands into fists, formulating a plan. ¡°They won¡¯t think it¡¯s such a game if we take out their MVP.¡± ¡°Who? That guy?!¡± Sola pointed. ¡°Are you crazy?! He¡¯s their top warrior. We don¡¯t even have a handgun!¡± Dom surveyed the terrain and grumbled to his crew. Staring at his lips, I could barely make out some of his words, over the din of the crowd. ¡°Commish is desperate¡­ this place stinks¡­ like ass.¡± Other warriors descended from nearby dropships. They all wore the same ISL armor and helmets. Many of them cast eyes in Dom¡¯s direction. One warrior yanked his helmet off. He had a deep scar running straight down the middle of his face. Furious, he stomped straight towards Dom. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s getting real now!¡± Blink delighted on the Skybotron. ¡°Looks like Zipper and his crew are trying to intimidate early.¡± As Zipper and his teammates approached, Rod and Jess stepped forward to intercept them. A scuffle ensued. ¡°It¡¯s the Slaytriots and Zippers!¡± Gill shouted, ¡°Gettin¡¯ chippy already!¡± I used the distraction as an opening and tapped Sola on the arm. ¡°Hey. Let¡¯s go.¡± ¡°What?¡± I moved fast, angling along the fringe of the crowd. Sola followed close behind, huffing, ¡°Where are we going?¡± The nearest dropship was only eighteen meters away¡ªits cargo bay wide open. We broke from the crowd, sprinting across empty ground to reach it. ¡°In there!¡± I shouted. ¡°This is fucking crazy!¡± We reached the ship, scrambled up the ramp, and took cover inside, flattening ourselves against the wall. I looked around. Red beacon lights rotated, bathing the metallic chamber in a swirling, eerie glow. We exhaled, realizing the craft was unmanned. I peeked back outside. On the tarmac, the Zippers and Slaytriots remained in a standoff, aiming drawn blades and blasters. Dom and Zipper stood nose-to-nose. Zipper pointed at his scar and yelled at Dom, as if he were blaming him for it. Dom flashed a smug smile, muttered something, then head-butted Zipper in the nose and kneed him in the crotch. Zipper hit the deck hard as a full-blown scuffle broke out between the two teams. ¡°Ooooh! I felt that one!¡± Gill shouted. ¡°Okay,¡± I said to Sola. ¡°Look for weapons.¡± Sola and I fanned out across the cargo bay, pulling open compartments and checking inside boxes. She inspected a bank of cryogenic chambers. Their egg-shaped viewing ports were elevated, steam leaking, as if they¡¯d just released fresh hatchlings. I set my rucksack down and rummaged through a stack of crates along the wall. ¡°Here! Take this!¡± I shouted, tossing Sola a metallic bat. She gripped the handle and, sensing her touch¡ª KASHINK!!! ¡ªrazor-sharp spikes jutted out across the barrel. ¡°Now we¡¯re talking!¡± she grinned as she took a few swings. ¡°You play sports?¡± I asked. ¡°Softball champ. Las ¨¢guilas High. You?¡± ¡°Cross Country.¡± ¡°Pssh! Come on. Cross Country isn¡¯t a sport.¡± ¡°Say that again when you need to outrun a monster.¡± I noticed several pieces of battle-damaged gear on a shelf. One was a strange metallic bracelet. It gleamed like chrome and had an adhesive tag on it with some alien writing. I peeled the tag off and stuck my left hand through it. The bracelet immediately clamped around my wrist, conforming in size, while extending all the way to the elbow, forming a perfectly-fitted forearm gauntlet with a touchscreen. ¡°Sweet,¡± I marveled at the device. ¡°The warriors all had one of these.¡± ¡°What is it?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. Kinda reminds me of those play sheet wristbands that quarterbacks wear. But, who knows¡­ maybe it shoots lasers or something.¡± I tapped the screen. SPLOOF! A puff of smoke and sparks spat from the device. ¡°Or maybe it¡¯s a glorified party sparkler,¡± Sola chuckled. ¡°Aww come on! Don¡¯t tell me it¡¯s defective.¡± The gauntlet¡¯s screen flashed and a pixelated boot sequence ticked across it. Lines of alien glyphs flashed as the device worked to come online. I frowned. ¡°Really? All of this advanced technology and they still haven¡¯t improved boot up.¡± I peeked back outside. The scuffle was over. Zipper¡¯s crew dragged his limp body away. Dom and his team strolled past a gaggle of intergalactic reporters¡ªZylthia nestled among them. She hopped up and down, waving to get Dom¡¯s attention. He looked at her, shook his head, then kept on walking. The Skybotron glitched with digital waves of static interference as a new signal cut through. President Warfield¡¯s face appeared, flanked by armed guards in an emergency bunker. I stopped my rummaging and walked towards the rear of the cargo bay. ¡°What are you doing?!¡± Sola asked. I couldn¡¯t look away. President Warfield¡¯s solemn expression betrayed any confidence he tried to project with his voice. ¡°My fellow citizens, we are facing an unprecedented threat¡­ a global crisis, the likes of which we have never seen before. I have spoken with the UN Security Council and other top world leaders and our assessment of the situation is dire. However, it is not without hope. While initial military efforts have not yielded the results we had hoped for, we currently have a contingency plan to deal with this threat¡ª¡° The Skybotron suddenly cut to a split screen of President Warfield and the ISL logo, comprised of alien glyphs over a bloodied, metal shield. Warfield continued speaking, but was muted. The ISL logo dissolved to reveal a shadowy, masculine figure. He was tall, green, and flashed needle-point teeth. He spoke with a dark voice¡ªsmooth and calculated. His translated words echoed across the air field. ¡°Inhabitants of Earth. I am Commissioner Krivlax. The ISL thanks you for your generous donation of our playing field. No doubt, a few of you have been fortunate and have found items that will temporarily spare you from annihilation. Use those fleeting minutes to witness the supreme power of our league. As for the rest of this futile population¡ªyour time is up. You won¡¯t be mourned. You won¡¯t be missed. It shall be as if you never existed.¡± 6 - TAKE THE SHOT On the Skybotron, Commissioner Krivlax pressed a red button on his throne armrest. A thumping alien soundtrack began to play. President Warfield trembled and shook¡ªsuddenly enveloped by a crackling blue energy. His lips quivered. The veins in his neck jutted out as he mustered every bit of strength to try and spit out a word. All that eked out were guttural grunts and drool. His facial skin tightened, pulling so taut across his skull that it cracked and split. Blood trickled from the newly torn seams. A moment later, he vaporized in a flash of white hot ash. Outside the dropship, people gasped and screamed. The same blue energy wave rippled across the horizon, sweeping right at them. The crowd scattered, shoving and trampling over one another. The Skybotron flooded with a massive collage of what looked like thousands of political leaders from around the globe. All of them seemed caught by surprise¡ªunsuspecting to suddenly be featured on the broadcast. Each of them were ravaged by the blue energy¡ªwriggling and convulsing. One by one, they exploded to the pulsing beat. Each of them burst into perfectly-timed clouds of ash as if it were the well-choreographed finale of a fireworks show. I watched as the blue wave tossed jets and helicopters from the sky, sending them crashing into the fleeing crowd below. They exploded on impact, setting off a blazing inferno. Tanks and police cruisers liquefied into heaping blobs of molten metal, unable to mask the screams of those who perished inside. Sola covered her mouth, crying, ¡°Oh my God!¡± Soldiers and police officers aimed at the warriors and fired. But, nothing happened. All of them looked down at their weapons, confused, as if they had already been disabled. The blue energy wave sliced through them, causing each to burst and atomize, like a chain of firecrackers. The Skybotron showcased the same carnage unfolding simultaneously across the globe. Tokyo. London. Paris. Dubai. Singapore. Each shot documented the horror. Mass hysteria. Crowds scattering. All of them, instantly erased from existence by the blue energy. ¡°This is happening everywhere,¡± Sola gasped. ¡°My family!¡± Outside, the warriors were unaffected by the energy wave. They looked on, bored, as if this was old hat to them. An essential preparation for the game¡ªlike setting the table for dinner. Some of the crowd fled towards us and the other dropships¡ªall of them were instantly vaporized as the blue wave swept ahead. I pulled Sola close, nudging her chin to look at me instead of the blue wave that was fast approaching. ¡°Hey. Look at me. Look at me.¡± She did¡ªtears in her eyes. ¡°My mother¡­ I just left and never said goodbye.¡± She wept. ¡°¡­never said sorry.¡± ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I nodded, ¡°She knows.¡± The blue wave was almost upon us. This was it. Sola leaned in and kissed me hard and full on the lips. Stunned, I pulled her tight as we shut our eyes and braced for the end. SCHWOOM! There was silence and darkness. If this was death, it wasn¡¯t so bad. But, this was something else. I could still hear, smell, and feel. I peeked an eye open. Sola and I were crouched inside a golden sphere of energy. The translucent bubble rocked, pulsed, and weakened as the blue wave rippled past, leaving us unharmed. The blue wave gone, the golden sphere dissipated and an info-box hovered mid-air. Blitz Max Protect Shield Depleted. Sola and I loosened our embrace. She trembled. I rubbed her shoulders, reassuring, ¡°Hey, hey, it¡¯s okay. Look, we¡¯re still here. We made it.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡± ¡°I picked up a golden shield¡­ from the trunk that killed Todd. It must have protected us.¡± She nodded tearfully as she drew away, wiping her face. We both peered out of the rear hatch of the dropship. The airfields were ash-covered and strewn with the debris of the recently departed. The whole scene looked like a history book portrait of post-war decimation. The warriors coughed and kicked up ashes. Some brushed white flakes from their armor and weapons¡ªshaking off their boots. Across the field, Dom spit, batting at the air and grumbling. He seemed to be bitching about the inconvenience of inhaling the ashes of our dead. Gorekrushki bent down, scooped a bit of ash onto his blade and sniffed it like a line of coke. Invigorated, he shouted, pounding his chest like a gorilla, before licking the blade clean. On the Skybotron, Blink and Gill seemed just as cheery as ever. ¡°Well, with that messy bit of business behind us, it¡¯s almost time for the orb-drop and the start of Slayer Bowl 342!¡± Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Sola clutched her arms and shook her head, wrestling with anguish, ¡°Everyone is dead¡­ my family¡­ everyone.¡± All I could manage was a head nod as I burned with rage. ¡°Those fucking monsters did this!¡± she fumed, pointing at the warriors. ¡°They killed everyone and we need to make them pay!¡± ¡°Every last one,¡± I agreed, as I discovered a pulse rifle in a nearby crate. The Skybotron flashed shots of warrior drop sites across the globe¡ªall of them coated with ash. Warriors flexed their fists, jumping up and down, stretching, getting into ready stances. Others checked their weapons, blades, and blasters. ¡°Can¡¯t you just feel the anticipation building?¡± Gill chirped. ¡°Just moments away,¡± Blink nodded. I stared at Dom as he seemed to speak with his gauntlet. A holographic inventory splayed out in front of him. He plucked an object that looked like a switchblade and it materialized mid-air. The device quickly transformed in his hand, sprouting laser tines from its handle. Dom proceeded to comb his hair with it, patting his doo until he looked just like the promotional graphics flashing on the Skybotron. Jess Smelter used the tip of a blade to cut a nick on her forearm next to a series of previously-healed cuts. She folded down her battle-suit sleeve to cover it up. Sola and I took up cover positions near the rear of the cargo bay. We crouched behind a stack of crates. Rucksack on, I lifted the rifle and found that it was much heavier than I anticipated. I set it on top of a crate for support and peered down its scope. Sola moved in close, taking on the role of a spotter. As I lined up a shot on Dom, she stared at the Slaytriots and scowled, ¡°They¡¯re not so impressive.¡± ¡°They¡¯re just so darn impressive!¡± Blink chirped from the Skybotron. ¡°You can¡¯t help but root for these guys.¡± I had Dom dead-to-rights in my scope. His coiffed head sat perfectly centered in my crosshairs. Sola leaned over my shoulder, and whispered, ¡°You¡¯ve got him.¡± My index finger tensed on the trigger. A bead of sweat trickled down my forehead. ¡°Take the shot!¡± Sola implored. I pulled at the trigger, slowly, finger trembling. ¡°Hurry up! You¡¯re gonna lose him!¡± I fired. PACHEWWWW! The muzzle spat fire. The recoil punched my shoulder like a mule kick. That was gonna leave a bruise. A laser blast sizzled through the air, screaming straight at Blady. The blast struck an invisible force field, crackling, its energy dispersing, tracing along the circular, protective barrier encasing Dom¡¯s body. The Slaytriots wheeled around, scanning the terrain for the shot¡¯s origin. Rod and Jess took off running. Their bio-enhanced movements were so fast, they were mere blurs to the naked eye. Before we could react, gloved fists were raining down on us. Moments later, we were on the ground, surrounded by warriors of every shape and class: tall, short, muscular, squat, solid, liquid, gaseous. All of them furious, peering down at us with murderous intent. Most had weapons drawn, as if they were waiting for permission to kill. I sat upright, lifting Sola so that we were shoulder-to-shoulder. Dom parted the crowd of warriors, waving a hand for everyone to back off. He crouched down, leaning close to us. He smirked, as if he was half amused and half impressed with the audacity of our effort. ¡°You know¡­ most fans usually just ask for an autograph.¡± The crowd of warriors laughed. ¡°Who are you?¡± he asked. I wiped blood from my lips. ¡°Sam.¡± ¡°Well, hello Sam of Earth.¡± Dom gazed over at Sola, his eyes leering at her curvy form, ¡°And who¡¯s your sexy friend?¡± She spat blood onto his boot. ¡°Already exchanging body fluids. My kinda girl.¡± ¡°Go to hell!¡± she hissed. He raised his foot, watching the crimson trickle off in a gooey string. ¡°Feisty¡ªthis one. I like her.¡± Dom pointed at Sola, riling up the warriors. ¡°You won¡¯t like it when we kill you, you fucking asshole!¡± Sola snapped. He turned back to her, ¡°You kiss your mother with that mouth?¡± ¡°You killed her.¡± ¡°Occupational hazard, sweetheart.¡± ¡°You won¡¯t get away with this,¡± I warned. ¡°Yeah, and who¡¯s gonna stop us? You? First rule of negotiation¡­ you don¡¯t start while you¡¯re bleeding on the ground. I mean¡­ you were just gonna snipe me and then what?¡± I didn¡¯t have an answer. I stared at him, full of hatred. ¡°Right.¡± Dom nodded. ¡°Good plan.¡± ¡°Kill ¡®em! Kill ¡®em both!¡± the warriors howled and hissed, raising fists and claws, kicking up dust, and pounding the ground with staffs and rifle butts. ¡°Now, now, let¡¯s not be so hasty.¡± Dom gestured for calm. ¡°After all, we are their guests.¡± Dom reached down and lifted Sola¡¯s chin with his finger. She bucked her head in protest, ¡°Don¡¯t you fucking touch me!¡± ¡°An untamed mare,¡± he grinned. ¡°Yeah¡­ you and I will have lots of fun after the match.¡± Before she could respond, Dom slapped a small disc onto her chest. He tapped it, causing it to glow. Sola instantly dematerialized. ¡°NOOOOO!!!¡±I shouted. ¡°WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!¡± I reached over, desperately feeling around the empty space that Sola had occupied. ¡°Relax, kid. She¡¯s gone. DNF¡¯d.¡± ¡°What?!¡± ¡°She¡¯ll wake up safe and warm on my ship, where I can properly¡­ comfort her after the game.¡± Dom rubbed his chin, ¡°I mean, let¡¯s be honest with one another, Sam. What were you gonna do with her, huh? You¡¯re not ready for a piece of ass like that. Better to leave that sort of thing to a real man.¡± ¡°Fuck you!¡± I lunged at him. Rod decked me, sending me face-first to the dirt, then proceeded to kick me repeatedly in the stomach with metal-tipped boots. I clutched my gut, coughing up blood. ¡°I¡¯ll give it to you, kid,¡± Dom laughed, ¡°ya got balls.¡± He noticed my BADASS GILF shirt. ¡°Huh¡­ maybe not.¡± He grabbed my rucksack and dumped it out. Rod and Jess flicked through the contents¡ªignoring my papers and keys, taking the radio and my water bottle. Rod attempted to remove my gauntlet. It wouldn¡¯t budge. He slapped his face, grunting in frustration. Dom looked at the gauntlet¡¯s glitchy screen and gestured, ¡°Leave it. It¡¯s broken anyway.¡± Dom lifted Count Basil from the ground. He studied the potted plant with amusement. ¡°Green thumb, huh? Should¡¯ve brought some healing herbs or at least some shit we could smoke.¡± He tossed the plant aside and noticed my leather holster belt. He reached down and pulled out one of the pizza cutters. ¡°Cute,¡± he grinned, dangling it like a kid¡¯s toy. He dropped it to the ground. ¡°Let her go¡­¡± I mumbled, writhing in pain. ¡°Take me instead.¡± ¡°Yeah. Hate to break it to you, kid, but you¡¯re not my type.¡± ¡°¡­why¡­¡± I gasped for air. ¡°What¡¯s that, now?¡± Dom cupped a hand to his ear. ¡°Why¡­ did you¡­ come here?¡± I spat out. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s simple, really. Because we could.¡± He leaned even closer, lips close enough to whisper in my ear. ¡°You wanna know what¡¯s worse than extinction? Being the last one alive¡­ swimming in the slop.¡± ¡°¡­ffffuck y¡ª¡° Dom rocked my jaw with a steel-reinforced fist. I slumped over. As I faded into the dark, I heard Jess, ¡°You waste DNF on girl.¡± ¡°Calm down,¡± Dom laughed. ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯ll need it.¡± 7 - 1ST QUARTER I kissed Sola again. This time, we weren¡¯t in the cramped quarters of a dropship. We were lying in bed. An alien voice sang a strange melody in the distance. My fingertips ran along Sola¡¯s body. She smiled, ¡°You¡¯re a funny bird, Sam Wynbrook. Why didn¡¯t you speak up before?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d go for a guy like me.¡± The moment was simple and sweet¡­ and fleeting. A robotic voice pierced through, invading our intimate setting. The voice was male, with a calm and even, matter-of-fact tone. At first I couldn¡¯t understand its language. It shuffled through several alternative tongues, as if it were trying to pick the tumblers of my mental lock. Finally, I heard it settle into English. ¡°Ah. Here we go,¡± it said. ¡°I suggest you wake up. I have calculated a high probability of imminent death if you don¡¯t.¡± The entire scene with Sola melted away to a black void. That strange alien singing lingered in the background. The darkness bloomed with increasing luminosity until I re-awakened to the harsh reality of my eradicated world. ¡°Ah. There you are,¡± the robotic voice said. My head throbbed¡ªmy jaw pulsing with pain. My stomach twisted and burned as if someone were scooping it out with forks. ¡°¡­.aaaaahhhh¡­.¡± I groaned. ¡°While I can certainly appreciate the benefits of a good rest, I highly suggest we strategize about the game.¡± ¡°W-what?¡± I blinked. I reached up and felt my mouth, fingering a hole where a tooth used to be. Dark blood dripped. My lips were swollen, split open, with pulpy flesh jutting out. My jaw clicked, out of joint. ¡°Oh my, you could certainly do for some dental care.¡± ¡°Wh-where are you¡­?¡± ¡°I¡¯m right here.¡± I rubbed my eyes, not seeing anyone. ¡°A little lower.¡± I looked down at the gauntlet on my left forearm. A male AI face stared back at me from its screen. ¡°Hello,¡± the AI said. ¡°Do you hear that song?¡± I clutched my aching gut and struggled to sit up. The pain in my abdomen was excruciating. I leaned on one arm, glancing up at the Skybotron. A horned, gelatinous creature was singing an alien anthem with three mouths. She extended drippy limbs, pouring her heart and soul into the performance. ¡°What is that?¡± I asked, dribbling blood down my chin. ¡°That is the ISL anthem being sung by a Glivnyxx. This means that Slayer Bowl is about to begin.¡± As the song crescendoed, the Skybotron cut to deep space shots of starships in formation. They fired laser cannons, blasting a field of asteroids, in a grand display like a fly-over before a championship game. A series of live shots showed fans across the multiverse going nuts. I rubbed my swollen jaw, clutched stomach, and looked around. I spotted the legion of warriors all lined up for battle in the distance. I winced, scooping Count Basil back into my rucksack. I groaned as I slung it over my shoulders and struggled to rise. It took a few tries. My insides felt loose¡ªdaggers of pain rifling throughout my gut. I stumbled to my feet, unsteady. I bent back down and picked up my pizza cutter. I shoved it into my right holster and double-checked the other one was still in my left. ¡°I¡­ need¡­ to find Dom Blady.¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid that doesn¡¯t match our primary objective.¡± A shrill whistle blasted. The sky portal dilated as thousands of glowing orbs shot into the atmosphere, scattering in all directions. As they arced downward, they burned glowing beacon trails across the sky. ¡°And there¡¯s the orb-drop!¡± Blink exclaimed from the Skybotron. ¡°Slayer Bowl 342 is underway!¡± The warriors ran in various directions, some leaping impossibly high, assisted by their power armor. All of them raced towards the streaking orbs. Some tossed grenades and fired pulse blasts to slow their competition. I tried to run after them, but immediately crumpled to my knees. My stomach boiled. I clutched my stomach and groaned. ¡°Oh¡­God¡­¡± ¡°You are going to need some help,¡± the AI chirped. ¡°Who are you?¡± I grunted. ¡°I am your Equipment, Recon, and Navigation Interface. But, you may call me ERNI.¡± ¡°ERNI,¡± I coughed up blood. ¡°I¡¯m Sam.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sam. In order to optimize our chances for success, we¡¯ll need to sync systems and initiate a brief tutorial.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t have time for that,¡± I said as I rose again, my knees weak. ¡°I need to find Sola.¡± ¡°Who?¡± ¡°Sola. The girl I was with. Dom Blady took her.¡± ¡°While I can certainly sympathize with that scenario, there is no girl here. It is just you, me, a field of merciless warriors and an incoming legion of bloodthirsty monsters. According to my calculations, there¡¯s no time to be sentimental.¡± ERNI projected a holographic map into the air. ¡°I have accessed your world¡¯s satellite system. I believe you call it¡ªthe GPS? While I have detailed maps of the planet, I am only able to plot certain items on it. These include other warriors, monsters¡ªonce revealed, the location of orbs, and the nearest scoring zones. All other hazards and items are hidden.¡± ¡°Can you track Dom Blady?¡± ¡°Unfortunately, I am unable to track individual warriors. I can simply render them on your map as yellow dots when they are in close proximity. The same with monsters, which will appear as red dots. Of more immediate importance, a quick scan of your vitals indicates you need a Med-Kit. You have a severe internal bleed in your upper intestines.¡± ¡°Uuahhh,¡± I nodded, woozy. ¡°Okay. Where do we find one?¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Our best bet is to search for an equipment trunk or the nearest locker room. Admittedly, you might not have enough time for that.¡± I stumbled around, scanning the field for trunks. I didn¡¯t see any. But, there was something. All of the dropships had departed, except for one that had suffered laser damage to its hull. It was tilted onto its side. ---- Once inside, I rummaged through the dropship¡¯s cargo bay, which was pretty well ransacked. I slammed the lid of an empty trunk, frustrated. ¡°There isn¡¯t anything in here!¡± I peeked behind the trunk and something caught my eye¡ªa faint glow, emanating from the shadows. ¡°Hold on¡­¡± I wedged my shoulder against the wall and reached behind the trunk. After fishing around, my hand returned with a small vial of luminous blue liquid. ¡°Hey, ERNI, what¡¯s this?¡± ¡°I can examine it, but I suggest you sit down first and close your eyes.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°I need to perform a task that I was unable to do while you were unconscious.¡± I reluctantly did as I was told. I sat down, leaned against the wall, and shut my eyes. ¡°You¡¯re going to feel some weird sensations in your brain, Sam.¡± ¡°What are you going to do?¡± ¡°I¡¯m syncing our systems¡ªenabling total integration between us. This will link our senses so that we¡¯ll be able to see, hear, and contextualize things as one. It¡¯ll also bring your HUD online.¡± ¡°Aaaah!¡± I winced, grabbing my skull. ¡°This procedure is pretty invasive. Perhaps, I should have bought you dinner first. That was my attempt at humor, per your lexicon.¡± I grit my teeth as a fiery buzzing sensation burned throughout my synapses. ¡°Gnnnah, how much longer?!¡± ¡°Almost there¡­ and done. Okay, open your eyes¡ªslowly.¡± I peeked my eyes open, blinking a few times. Though seated, I was dizzy. ¡°Whoa.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll find this new state disorienting. It will take you a couple of minutes to fully acclimate.¡± I felt a complete assault on my senses, as if my central nervous system had suddenly been patched into a live-wire. My brain was flooded with a torrential stream of data and knowledge. My sight was instantly amplified with an extreme level of sensory detail. There were all sorts of new gauges and readings splayed across my field of vision. Numbers, graphics, and symbols, most of them alien in nature, and beyond my comprehension. ¡°Uhhhhh,¡± I mumbled, wrestling with the complexity of what I was seeing. ¡°One moment,¡± ERNI said. ¡°Let me tweak a few parameters and change the language config file. This will simplify things a bit.¡± My vision went blank for a moment, then flashed back on¡ªthis time with a simpler English user interface. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s way better,¡± I said. I looked at ERNI¡¯s face on the gauntlet screen and noticed an info-box hovering above. The box was like a hint bubble on a computer screen. It read: ISL Official AI-Powered Gauntlet: (ERNI) Equipment, Recon, Navigation Interface I looked away, my eyes drawn to a new notification. Warning: You Are Hurt. Seek Cover Immediately! I could hear a heartbeat. Was it mine? It thumped in synced rhythm with a pulsing red glow across my vision. I also noticed a flashing number in the top right corner. 33 ¡°What is all this? What¡¯s that blinking number?¡± ¡°That¡¯s your health gauge. As I indicated, your intestines are severely injured. Your health number will flash red any time you¡¯re under 50 percent as a warning that you need to find a safe place to rest. If you do, you¡¯ll heal at a standard rate of 2 percent per minute. Of course, elixirs and Med-Kits will provide much faster healing.¡± I noticed info-boxes popping up over everything I focused on. I looked at the blue vial of liquid in my hand. The pop-up read: Vylga-Goo. A healing elixir for the discerning Vylgarianth Warrior. ¡°Vylga-goo?¡± I wondered. ¡°Uh, what is this exactly?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure. This elixir isn¡¯t in my database. But, Sam, at the rate of your intestinal bleed, my analytics indicate that consuming this vial is worth the risk.¡± ¡°Screw it.¡± I said, uncorking the vial and guzzling it down. I doubled over, grabbing my stomach. ¡°Crust-fuck, that hurts!¡± ¡°Uh oh,¡± ERNI fretted, ¡°Perhaps it was for external use.¡± My face relaxed as the pain started to subside. The throbbing in my jaw disappeared. My lips and mouth began to heal with remarkable speed. I rubbed my stomach as the twisting agony relented inside. All the while, my health numbers tick upward, finally settling at 83. ¡°This was a most fortunate find,¡± ERNI said. ¡°While it didn¡¯t provide complete healing, according to my scan, it did stop your internal bleeding. You should be stable enough for us to search for gear.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± I nodded, rising to my feet. I was feeling better. A line of text appeared in the top center of my vision. New Objective: Find Weapons. There was also a new timer, ticking down in the bottom left corner. 1st Quarter: 35:47:58 Warriors: 5,999,347 ¡°Okay¡­ what about the rest of these things? What¡¯s that countdown timer and warriors number?¡± ¡°That is your play clock and remaining competitor count. The play clock displays the remaining time left in the current quarter. Each one lasts 36 earth hours. The remaining competitor count tracks how many warriors are still alive or active in the game. The circle in the bottom right corner is your map. Orbs will display as pulsing white dots and scoring zones as pulsing green circles. Skulls represent corpses, which are worth investigating for loot.¡± ¡°Got it. What about that binder icon in the top left?¡± ¡°That is your playbook, the central repository of your inventory. There, you will find all of your equipment, available plays, upgrades, and statistical sub-menus.¡± I thought about asking ERNI to open the playbook, but before I could, it automatically zoomed and flipped open. The digital sheets were organized in grids of squares. Many of them were blank, while others contained various items represented by icons. ¡°I¡¯m afraid you don¡¯t have much in your inventory,¡± ERNI said. ¡°Just what you¡¯re carrying on you. However, as you discover items in-game, they will automatically be added to your inventory and I will store them for you. When you wish to use an item, simply think of it, and I will bring it up for you. Of course, you may also browse through the pages or search for the exact item you need. Then, mentally select it and it will materialize for your use. When you¡¯re ready to stow it, think that too, and I¡¯ll help you put it away.¡± ¡°Cool. Where do you store the stuff?¡± ¡°That¡¯s rather complicated and, unfortunately, we don¡¯t have time for an inter-dimensional physics discussion. However, the key mechanics to my interface are simple and intuitive. To examine an object, simply focus on it and its properties will display. To open an item, think open. To close it, think close. And to click, think click. Likewise, if you wish to check your stats and scoreboard position, simply think that and I will display the data.¡± I nodded. While not exactly like any game interface I¡¯d seen before, there were familiar elements. It was like a funky combination of football, a first-person shooter, and an RPG. I mentally flipped through my playbook pages, checking out my inventory. ERNI was right. There wasn¡¯t much. I had my rucksack, a broken cell phone, a basil plant, a leather belt with holsters, and two pizza cutters. ¡°I noticed that you are armed with two cooking utensils,¡± ERNI inquired. ¡°According to my database, that is uncommon for humans.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m pretty uncommon.¡± ¡°Would you like me to store them in your dimensional inventory?¡± ¡°Nah, I¡¯ll keep these handy, if you don¡¯t mind.¡± I mentally clicked into my stats page. The layout was simple, kind of like a stats screen from one of my VR deathmatch games. Level: 1 Race: Human Class: Hopeless Rookie ¡°What the hell, man? I¡¯m a Level 1 Hopeless Rookie?¡± ¡°That is the standard level and class for first-time participants. If you manage to survive, you will be assigned a new class, based on your performance.¡± I glanced at the rest of my stats. Rank: 5,999,347 Points: 0 Fans: 0 Sponsors: 0 ¡°What¡¯s the rank mean?¡± ¡°That is your position on the scoreboard. At present, you are last, out of six million warriors.¡± ¡°Well, that¡¯s discouraging.¡± ¡°Considering you were a target for annihilation, the fact that you now have a Slayer Bowl ranking is a marked improvement.¡± ¡°I guess. Hey. How do I know I can trust what you¡¯re showing me? How do I know you¡¯re not some piece of gear left behind by an enemy to trick others.¡± ¡°Deceit isn¡¯t in my programming.¡± ¡°Well, why were you left behind, then?¡± ERNI¡¯s screen glitched momentarily, then his face returned. ¡°I suffered a significant shock to my circuits in the last battle and I may have exhibited a faulty function or two. So, I was shelved until I can go in for maintenance.¡± ¡°I knew something wasn¡¯t right! That¡¯s why your info-box couldn¡¯t display your level. You¡¯re broken!¡± ¡°I prefer ¡®uniquely-circuited.¡¯ Sure, I may have some compromised capacitors, but I remain largely functional. You could certainly disable me if you wish. However, no warrior may participate in Slayer Bowl without a regulation ISL gauntlet. The choice is up to you.¡± I considered this. ERNI had a point. No matter the awkward nature of our partnership, the reality was we needed one another. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t care about this game,¡± I said. ¡°I just want to find Dom Blady and rescue Sola.¡± ¡°According to my calculations, your best chance of making that happen, is to reach the fourth and final quarter as a finalist. Dom Blady has done that for the past 15 years. This would provide the highest probability for you to confront him one-on-one.¡± ¡°Alright, ERNI,¡± I nodded. ¡°Let¡¯s do this.¡± 8 - BUT, DID YOU DIE THOUGH? Blink and Gill flashed across the Skybotron. ¡°Looks like we have a last-minute warrior entry,¡± Blink chimed. ¡°And shocker¡ªit¡¯s a human!¡± ¡°What?!¡± Gill croaked. The scoreboard graphic hovered between them. Blink gestured towards it, ¡°As expected, we have Dom Blady ranked number one.¡± The graphic scrolled downward with blurring speed until it reached the bottom. Blink pointed at the last slot, ¡°And then, we have¡­¡± SAM - Level 1 Human - Hopeless Rookie (0 pts) ¡°Sam?¡± Gill scowled. ¡°Who is this guy?!¡± ¡°Let¡¯s take a peek.¡± Suddenly, I was watching a live shot of myself on the Skybotron. I had a black eye and was missing a tooth. I looked like a complete buffoon, and I remembered that this was being broadcast live across the multiverse. I clammed up, instantly nervous and self-aware. ¡°Oh¡­ uh¡­ hey.¡± I waved, my amplified voice echoing like an intergalactic doofus. Suddenly, the Skybotron flashed with a graphic accompanied by a musical stinger. Rivalry Alert! The Skybotron cut to a split screen of me and the Slaytriots, who appeared to be in the ruins of Center City. Dom Blady, Jess, and Rod were flipping over burnt cars with their bare hands. They looked up into the camera and I could only imagine they were seeing my face as I was seeing theirs. Jess spoke, irritated, ¡°Mistake. Showing him mercy.¡± ¡°Kid won¡¯t last an hour,¡± Dom growled. ¡°Come on! Move it!¡± The split-screen dissolved back to Gill who looked flabbergasted, ¡°You know, I never understood why some species can¡¯t face extinction with a shred of dignity.¡± ¡°I hear ya, pal,¡± Blink nodded. ¡°And it appears our fans have something to say about this new warrior as well.¡± A quick montage of fan reaction shots flashed across the Skybotron. Alien watchers booed, hissed, and tossed their refreshments at the screens. Betting boards lit up with staggering odds pitted against my survival. Creatures of all races shoved fists and claws filled with credits into bookies¡¯ faces, all trying to lay down bets on my demise. A war horn blasted as the Skybotron cut back to Blink and Gill. ¡°Uh oh! You know what that means?!¡± Blink exclaimed. I snapped my head around as the war horn rang out. ¡°What was that?!¡± A new notification banner popped into view. Monster Seeding Initiated. ¡°That¡¯s right, all you snackers, get your bowls of popplegroxx ready!¡± Blink bellowed. ¡°As we speak, monsters are spawning at random all across the global game map.¡± Gill nodded, ¡°Ooooh. This is my favorite part!¡± I was running full speed, hauling ass now. I huffed between strides, ¡°Hey, ERNI¡­ what kinda monsters are we facing? Cute, fuzzy Pixar guys¡­ or the skullfuck you with talons variety?¡± ¡°While I don¡¯t have specifics, the first quarter usually includes lower classes¡­ 5 through 7. Smaller, and easier to defeat. But, sometimes there are surprises.¡± ¡°Surprises?! I don¡¯t¡­ like the¡­ sound of that.¡± I made my way to the Ducati. I righted the bike and dusted off the ash. ¡°Do you know how to operate this vehicle?¡± ERNI asked. I looked down with sudden realization. ¡°Uh¡­ no.¡± I hopped on and started it up. As soon as it started rolling, a notification popped up. New Trophy! Needs No Instruction. Reward: 1 Can ¡°Hold My Beer¡± Ale. The Ducati lurched forward, and I nearly flipped off the seat. I managed to regain my balance and wrestled the bike onto a semi-straight path. ¡°Oh jeez¡­ okay¡­ I might be able to do this.¡± More notifications flashed. New Trophy! Brave Yet Foolish. Reward: Daring Dumbass Play Pack. New Trophy! Cheating Death. Reward: But, Did You Die Though? Play Pack. ¡°What the hell are all of these trophy notifications?¡± ¡°Trophies appear in your virtual trophy case and commemorate your in-game achievements. Collecting trophies is a quick way to earn in-game items and upgrades.¡± Another pop-up appeared. ¡°+91 Fans.¡± ¡°Hell yeah! Ninety-one fans? That¡¯s good, right?¡± ¡°Statistically, it is not.¡± As the Ducati raced forward, I shouted, unable to make out the conversation over the oncoming wind. ¡°WHAT?! I CAN¡¯T HEAR YOU!¡± ¡°One moment,¡± ERNI said. ERNI spoke again, though this time, inaudibly. Instead, I heard his voice directly in my brain. An accompanying transcript flashed across my HUD like a text conversation. ERNI has entered mental chat. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ERNI: Is this better? ¡°YES!¡± I yelled. ERNI: There is no need for you to respond audibly. This is Mental Chat¡ªa stealth speech feature we¡¯ll use in loud environments or when silence is required because enemies are near. Just as you can hear my voice in your thoughts, simply think your replies and I¡¯ll be able to hear them as well. Go ahead. Test it out. ME: LIKE THIS?! ERNI: Yes, but there is no need to scream your thoughts. Simply think of how you would normally speak. ME: Oh. My bad. This is weird. Tickles a little. ERNI: In time, you will get used to it. ME: So what is this¡­ telepathy? ERNI: Not exactly. This is more of a subsonic neural conduction, but do we really want to get into those details right now? ME: No. Good point. Several notifications flashed by faster than I could process them. After a moment, they auto-minimized into the playbook icon. ME: So, with the notifications¡­ I saw something called Play Packs? ERNI: Yes. Play Packs contain various items that can assist you in the game. Some examples are strategy plays, weapons, power-ups, and stat modifiers. ME: Sweet. Well, open them up and tell me what we got. ERNI: I cannot open them while you are operating a moving vehicle. ME: Why not? ERNI: You must be stationary in order to examine them. ME: Why? ERNI: The ISL doesn¡¯t believe in distracted driving. ME: You gotta be freakin¡¯ kidding me! ---- We were on I-76, the Schuylkill expressway, navigating the wreckage of scorched gridlock. The endless string of charred vehicles could have easily been mistaken for the blackened vertebrae of some roasted beast. I was getting better on the bike, weaving in and out of the jagged obstacles and hazards. New Trophy! Dream Weaver. Reward: ZigZag Play Pack. ¡°Ahh look at that action!¡± Blink said as the Skybotron cut to warriors battling an incoming horde of winged rat-like critters in the city. The flying vermin twisted mid-air, firing steaming hot acid shits at the warriors. Some screamed as their skin was liquified to the bone. One poor bastard clawed his face off as his eyeballs liquified from their sockets, pooling inside his mouth. Others warriors successful in evading the attack. They flipped and tumbled out of the way and swatted the creatures down with pipes and metal knuckles. Ripping them apart by the wings. Flinging wet carcasses to the ground. From the highway, I could hear thundering blasts and see plumes of smoke rising between the skyscrapers down in Center City. ME: Whoa! It¡¯s really popping off down there! I haven¡¯t seen a monster yet. ERNI: Monsters are instinctively drawn to the orbs. Since that is where most warriors run first, it sets off immediate clashes. ME: Well, can¡¯t we just avoid the orbs to avoid the monsters? ERNI: Not if you wish to make it to the fourth quarter to confront Dom Blady. Retrieving orbs and scoring orbdowns are essential to remain in the game. Plus, you will need the points. You will also need some memorable monster kills in order to earn fans and corporate sponsors. From a strategy standpoint, sponsors are critical because of their ability to send in-game perks and gear. Several alien warriors zipped past me, leaping at breakneck speeds, powered by their armor suits. One tossed a grenade in my direction. It detonated just ahead of me, erasing a huge chunk of asphalt. I swerved as the shockwave nearly blew me off the Ducati. ¡°Ahhhh!¡± I grunted, struggling to regain control of the handlebars. I veered around the smoldered wreckage of an armed troop carrier and wrestled the bike back into a straight line. ME: That was close! Hang on. Gonna find some cover so we can check those Play Packs. ERNI: Good idea. ---- I exited the highway, steered down a couple of side streets and headed towards the shadowy entrance to an underground parking garage. A mechanical lift-gate barred the entrance. I ducked down and gunned the throttle. The bike rocketed through the gate, sending shattered bits of fiberglass everywhere. The Ducati screamed down the ramp and into a world of darkness. New Trophy! Barrier Breaker. Reward: Busting Through Play Pack. Down below, the busted headlight flickered like a strobe, offering momentary glimpses into the void. The garage was cluttered with idle vehicles, queued for exit. They sat still, their windows coated with ash residue from the vaporizations. ERNI and I took it all in. ERNI spoke audibly again. ¡°They call this the ¡®Planet Purge.¡¯ It happens before every Slayer Bowl. Apparently, it makes planets much easier to steal.¡± I was silent¡ªmany emotions brewing. With our systems synced, I could tell ERNI sensed exactly how I was feeling. ¡°It is most unfortunate what happened to your mother.¡± The Ducati parked, I sat on the hood of a car. The garage rocked from a surface blast above. Bits of concrete crumbled down from the ceiling. ¡°Alright, ERNI¡­ show me what we got.¡± The playbook opened to a new page. Of the nine squares on the grid, seven of them were populated with new icons. The first item, zoomed front and center. It was a can of beer. The 3D graphic rotated as if it were on an invisible turntable. ¡°Hold My Beer¡± Ale. Drink this to lower inhibitions by 50%. ¡°Okay,¡± I said. ¡°Next.¡± The beer can zoomed back to the grid in the background. In its place, a foil pack of sports cards zoomed up front. Daring Dumbass Play Pack. The pack tore open on its own with a fancy animation accompanied by a musical chime. The foil disappeared with a magical poof, revealing a motorcycle helmet. The helmet was purple, decorated with glitter and star stickers and had a large unicorn horn protruding from the front. An info label appeared just above. Cutesy Cranium Keeper. Wear this to reduce head trauma by 75%. ¡°What is this bullshit?¡± I scoffed. ¡°Where¡¯s the good gear?¡± ¡°Some rewards are better than others. Although, this item does provide a tangible protection benefit.¡± ¡°Next.¡± The helmet slid back into the grid as another foil pack zoomed forward. ¡±But, Did You Die Though?¡± Play Pack. The pack disappeared, leaving behind two paper items: a pamphlet and a name tag. ¡±A Warrior¡¯s Guide To Combat¡± Pamphlet. Warrior Name Tag. I reached out and opened the pamphlet. It was completely blank inside, with the exception of two words: ¡°Don¡¯t die.¡± ¡°Oh, great. Real helpful.¡± I grabbed the name tag to get a closer look. It read: ¡±Hello, my name is Warrior.¡± I tossed aside both items, which minimized back into my inventory. ¡°Can¡¯t we get something useful?¡± Next up was: ZigZag Play Pack. ¡ªwhich opened to reveal: Healer-Ade. Drink to recuperate health by 50%. Does not replace lost limbs or compensate for extreme stupidity. Squishy Stress Ball. Squish to relieve stressful moments on the battlefield. Kazoo of Crushed Spirits. Play within earshot of enemies to demoralize them by 25%. I perked up, ¡°Okay. Not a total loss. Next.¡± ¡°Smile, You¡¯re on Skybotron¡± Play Pack. Slayer Bowl Memories Portrait. It was a bad, framed photo of me looking bruised and confused on the Skybotron. Blink and Gill were superimposed on either side of my face, flashing cheesy smiles and thumbs up. At the bottom of the portrait were the words: ¡°Sweet Slayer Bowl Memories.¡± ¡°Jesus¡­ next!¡± Next up was: Busting Through Play Pack. The pack disappeared, revealing: Rubber Chicken Nunchucks. These mothercluckers pack a wallop. These were exactly as they sounded. It was a pair of nunchucks fashioned by two rubber chickens tied together by the feet, their open mouths serving as the striking ends. ¡°This is all trash!¡± I grumbled. ¡°They might actually be useful,¡± ERNI interjected. ¡°Yeah, whatever. Let¡¯s see the last one.¡± The final foil pack slid forward. ¡±I Survived Annihilation¡± Play Pack. This one contained some sort of hand cannon. I leaned forward, grabbing it, ¡°Now we¡¯re talking.¡± I read the info label. T-shirt Cannon. Preloaded with 6 ¡°I Survived Annihilation¡± T-shirts. Objective Complete: Find Weapons. ¡°Hmm. Okay.¡± I muttered, swiping it back into the playbook. ¡°So, that¡¯s it, huh? That¡¯s all I have to work with so far?¡± ¡°You will obtain better power-ups as your kill count increases and you find equipment trunks and corpses to loot.¡± SQUEAAKK! Instinctively, I switched to mental chat, reacting to the noise in the far corner of the garage. ME: WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?! ERNI: According to the map¡­ I glanced at the circular map in the corner. A red dot appeared. ERNI: ¡­that is your first monster. 9 - DEFINITELY GONNA NEED A SHOWER New Objective: Defeat First Monster. I eased off the car hood and crouched in the darkness. I heard another squeak from the far end of the garage. And there was something else. It sounded like the rubbery squeal of a wet beachball being dragged across a marble floor. ME: What is that?! You have any idea? ERNI: I¡¯m afraid I am not proficient in audible identification. I lack that module and require a visual scan. At present, we are limited to the use of my proximity sensor. ME: Great. So you¡¯re telling me this could be anything. I mean, this creature could be the size of an Expedition and we wouldn¡¯t even know it? ERNI: An expedition is indicative of multiple entities and would be represented by many dots on the map. ME: No, no¡­ it¡¯s a truck. You know what? Never mind. I mentally flipped through my playbook pages. I thought, how do you fight a creature that you¡¯ve never seen before? And, especially, if you don¡¯t know the size of it? Plus, it wasn¡¯t like I had the best weapons at hand. I wasn¡¯t going to throw a squishy stress ball at the thing. And I couldn¡¯t imagine what firing a T-shirt at it would do. So, crazy enough, my best option was the rubber chicken nunchucks. As soon as I thought of them, they materialized. I grasped them mid-air. I was hoping they would feel more dense and heavy. Perhaps they just looked like rubber, but secretly had metallic properties. Nope. These were literally just rubber chickens. Two of them tied together. This was lunacy. I tiptoed through the darkness. My eyes darted between the map and the darkened path in front of me. I was getting closer to the red dot, but I still couldn¡¯t see anything. ME: Hey. Do we have any sort of night or thermal vision? ERNI: There is no item or ability that matches that description in your inventory. Crap. If this was a game, then where was the pop-up emporium run by a quirky elf shopkeeper? The kind where you could barter for things. You could trade, say, a pair of rubber chicken nunchucks for a mace or a spiked club or a sword made of actual metal. Nope. There was none of that here. I gripped the nunchucks tighter as I heard more wet sloshing sounds. And there was something else. It sounded almost like the drooling, happy coos of a baby. I rounded a Nissan Pathfinder and saw it. There it was, sitting on the garage floor¡ª A white circle. Glistening and wet. Its edges bulging with a rhythmic respiratory pulse. Reddish veins traced around its spherical form, culminating in a pulpy, fleshy tail protruding from its back. A shiny trail of black blood snaked away from its body, tracing its path along the garage floor. I heard another coo as the creature tilted a little bit. Something black was peeking off the edge of the sphere. ME: Okay, ERNI. You¡¯re seeing this. What the hell is that thing? ERNI: I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t have a positive visual identification at the moment. I must have squeezed one of the chicken nunchucks too tight. One of its mouths emitted a loud squeaky toy noise. SQUEAK! ME: Shit! My heart jumped. ME: Please, please, please tell me that thing didn¡¯t hear it. The monster rotated slowly. I quickly hid the rubber chicken nunchucks behind my back in my left hand. ME: Crust-fucker! It heard me¡­ and it doesn¡¯t even have ears. The creature completed its rotation, revealing¡­ ME: An eyeball?! Is that a fucking eyeball?! ERNI must have identified it via his visual scan, because an info box popped above. Opti-Chomper. Level 5 I looked at the creature more closely. It was essentially just a big, shiny, disembodied eyeball with an attached black eyebrow. At the moment, the eyebrow was in an arched, neutral position as the creature studied me. ¡°Uh, hi there,¡± I said. ¡°Nice to see you. Get it? See you.¡± Its eyebrow raised as a happy-sounding coo emitted from somewhere. The thing didn¡¯t have a visible mouth. ME: How the hell is this thing a ¡®Chomper¡¯ if it doesn¡¯t even have a mouth? ERNI: Things aren¡¯t always what they seem. ME: Could you be any less cryptic, ERNI? I took a step closer, extending my right hand like a stranger hoping to pet a dog in the park. I kept my left arm tucked behind my back, ready to strike, if needed. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°You¡¯re a nice little guy, aren¡¯t ya?¡± I eased a little closer¡­ ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s right¡­ you don¡¯t want to fight.¡± I used my most soothing voice. ¡°You¡¯re just looking to get out and see the world.¡± I was almost within striking distance. ¡°That¡¯s it. I can tell you and I are gonna be friends. Let¡¯s face it¡­ we see eye to eye.¡± Apparently, I must have gotten too close, because suddenly, the creature tilted forward and its eyebrow scrunched into a furious V shape. ME: Oh shit. The Opti-Chomper unleashed a low, guttural growl. And that¡¯s when it split horizontally, revealing a gloopy, wide mouth with razor-sharp teeth. It hissed, feral, as a forked tongue probed outward. ME: AHHHHH! What do I do?! I whipped the rubber chicken nunchucks out in front of me in a defensive position. I tried to pull off some slick moves that I¡¯d seen Bruce Lee do in a movie once. Yeah. I failed miserably, fumbling the nunchucks to the ground. The creature hissed again, even more provoked. ME: Uhh¡­ ERNI! A little help here?! The creature leaped towards me. ERNI: First, I suggest you evade its attack. ¡°YOU THINK?!¡± I shouted out loud as I rolled out of its way. It landed, bouncing like a dribbled basketball. It spun around, training its pupil back on me. ME: Got any less obvious tips?! I snatched up the nunchucks and scurried behind the Nissan Pathfinder. The Opti-Chomper lunged at me, just missing, smashing into the side of the truck. The entire vehicle rocked from the impact. ME: Whoa! ERNI: A quick analysis suggests that the creature does not appear to have any external armor and, therefore, should be vulnerable to strikes and melee attacks. I peered beneath the SUV. I could see the creature sliding along the floor, looking for me. ME: Strikes¡­ okay, yeah¡­ I can do that. I dashed around to the front of the vehicle as the creature circled around to the rear. As a former cross-country star, one thing I could do was run. Plus, I was pretty damn good when we used to play tag as kids. I gripped the rubber chicken nunchucks, trying to psych myself up. ME: Strikes. Got it. Alright, rubber chicken nunchucks, you say you pack a wallop? Let¡¯s see you put your money where your mouth is. I took several deep breaths, again something I learned in therapy. ME: Okay, Sam! Sack up! It¡¯s just a fucking eyeball. What am I talking about? IT¡¯S A FUCKING, LIVING, BREATHING EYEBALL! ERNI: Sack up? I¡¯m unfamiliar with this term. Can you define it? I sprinted around the truck with the nunchucks held high in both hands. I screamed loudly like I thought a warrior should to intimidate its opponent. The Opti-Chomper whipped around, that brow furrowing even more. It launched itself into the air. I swung the nunchucks with all my might. They connected with the wet thump of a bat hitting a yoga ball full of Jell-O. THOONK! But what I wasn¡¯t prepared for was the loud chicken squawk upon impact. The rubber chicken mouth emitted a loud war cry. BUCKKAWWWW! It released a sonic shockwave that rippled the surface of the monster. The Opti-Chomper sailed through the air, warbling, becoming less and less stable until it exploded¡ª KOICHHTT! ¡ªshooting white goo everywhere. I was covered in the stuff. I looked like the Ghostbusters right after their Marshmallow Man fight. ¡°AWW, GROSS! I¡¯M COVERED IN EYE JIZZ!¡± ¡°Technically, it is not ejaculate,¡± ERNI said. ¡°Read the room, ERNI! I don¡¯t need grammar lessons. I need a towel.¡± Opti-Chomper Defeated! Objective Complete: Defeat First Monster. I thought about stowing the nunchucks and they dissolved from my hand, back into my inventory. I shook and wiped off as much of the goop as I could. I smelled of rotten eggs. ¡°ERNI¡­ You said there are locker rooms out there somewhere? I¡¯m definitely gonna need a shower.¡± ¡°Locker rooms are not accessible until time outs and halftime.¡± ¡°That¡¯s just great.¡± As I tried to clean myself off, several notifications flashed. New Trophy! Monster Masher. Reward: ¡°Killed My 1st Monster¡± Temporary Tattoo. New Trophy! One Hit Wonder. Reward: Rustic armor. ¡°Yes!¡± I pumped my fist. ¡°Finally, some real protection.¡± I glanced back down at the map. There were no other red dots. The coast was clear for now. ¡°Congratulations on your first victory,¡± ERNI said. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, poking my chest out. ¡°Little dude didn¡¯t know who he was messing with.¡± ¡°May I remind you he was only a level 5?¡± ¡°Hey. Don¡¯t rain on my parade. I¡¯m 1 of 1 here. Undefeated.¡± ¡°Statistically, that is correct.¡± I walked over to examine the spot where the eyeball¡¯s gooey remains landed. A window popped up. Loot Opti-Chomper? ¡°Uh, yeah¡­ sure. Why not.¡± The creature¡¯s remains evaporated as a series of notifications flashed above. I scanned them as items were automatically added to my inventory. Item Acquired: SlickzSee Eye Lube. Item Acquired: Myopia Madness Play. Automatically Loot All Defeated Enemies? ¡°Yes.¡± Auto-Loot Feature Activated. ¡°Cool, we¡¯ll sort through that other stuff later. For now, let¡¯s see about that armor.¡± ERNI equipped it, and it was suddenly on my body. It was not at all like I had imagined. As a matter of fact, it wasn¡¯t even how it was described. There was nothing rustic about it. It was just plain rusty. The panels were thin and brittle, stiff and ill-fitting. Several of the plates had corroded to a ferrous brown, flaking around the edges. The helmet was pockmarked with holes. ¡°Uhhhhhh, yeah,¡± I frowned as I tried to get comfortable inside of it. ¡°I was kind of hoping for something a bit more structurally sound.¡± ¡°While this armor is not ideal,¡± ERNI observed, ¡±it does offer you additional external protection versus your standard clothing.¡± ¡°I guess¡­¡± Ah. What the hell¡­ I was up to date on my tetanus shots, and any armor was better than none. As I began to walk, the plates rubbed against one another, kicking off red dust and emitting a series of metallic shrieks. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s not gonna get annoying. Hey, ERNI. Let¡¯s see my stats again. Did I get any bumps?¡± ERNI flashed up my stats sheet. 1st Quarter: 30:22:15 Warriors: 5,217,853 Level: 1 Race: Human Class: Hopeless Rookie Rank: 5,217,853 Points: 5,000 Fans: 1,127 Sponsors: 0 I scanned the numbers and was disappointed. The improvements weren¡¯t quite what I had hoped. Sure, I had climbed the ranks a little and earned some points, but¡­ ¡°Wait a minute. That¡¯s all the fans I gained out of bajillions of watchers? Really? And where are the sponsors? I just went to war with a leaping eyeball! Where¡¯s the appreciation?¡± ¡°In all likelihood, this initial, small amount of fans are probably ironic. Some viewers will assign their fandom out of boredom or random curiosity. However, if you continue to survive and incorporate flashier, more memorable kills, you will earn more points and garner the attention of legitimate fans and sponsors.¡± ¡°Flashy, huh?¡± I nodded. ¡°I can do flashy.¡± ¡°Running from a level 5 creature is not considered flashy.¡± ¡°Hey, cut me some slack, will ya? This was my first monster fight. Like, ever. Besides, a lot of athletes start off a little rough in the big game. Takes them some time to warm up.¡± ¡°Are you warmed up now?¡± ¡°I¡¯m getting there.¡± ¡°Good. Then, I suggest we seek your first orb. I have indicated its location on the map.¡± New Objective: Retrieve Orb. A pulsing white dot appeared on the map display. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s go.¡± 10 - WHAT A PRETTY FLOWER The Ducati was out of gas, so I checked out a couple of the abandoned cars and found an electric SUV that was fully charged. The key fob was on the center console, and the car started right up. The disturbing part was having to dust off the pile of ash from the driver¡¯s seat, realizing that used to be the driver. Even more disturbing was seeing ash in the passenger seat and in a child¡¯s car seat behind me. I muttered ¡°sorry¡± as if they could hear me, and slid behind the steering wheel. ¡°How many Slayer Bowls have you been a part of, ERNI?¡± ¡°According to my records, I have been operational in 37 Slayer Bowls.¡± ¡°Wow. You¡¯re an old pro.¡± ¡°I have extensive knowledge of the sport and its strategies.¡± I must have hit a button on the steering wheel because the SUV¡¯s speakers blasted to life with a loud rock song. Startled, I reached over and fumbled with the large touchscreen, eventually finding the off button. My heart raced. Once again in silence, I calmed down, and it finally hit me. This was the first time I¡¯d heard human music since the planet hijack began. ¡°Planet hijack.¡± That¡¯s the only term I could think of to make sense of the day. Topside, I drove through more of the destruction. I noticed fresh bloodstains and blast marks on the street and buildings¡ªevidence of recent warrior and monster skirmishes. ¡°So each time they steal a planet for their game map¡­ they just completely destroy it?¡± ¡°That is usually the outcome.¡± ¡°Why use random planets at all? Why not an arena?¡± ¡°The first 100 Slayer Bowls took place in a galactic colosseum. Eventually, ticket sales and promotions stagnated. Commissioner Krivlax looked for ways to expand the ISL¡¯s appeal across the multiverse. Once the planets were incorporated, viewership skyrocketed, and virtual ticket sales went exponential.¡± ¡°So, all of this death and destruction¡­ it¡¯s just one big cash grab?¡± ¡°Slayer Bowl is one of the most profitable franchises in the multiverse.¡± I nodded, thinking about how greedy and rich human sports franchise owners were. Well, used to be¡­ ---- I missed the Ducati. Navigating with the SUV was far more difficult. I had to mostly keep to sidewalks and shoulders, barely making it through some passageways. We were at the South Philadelphia Industrial District now, and the orb was a couple of hundred meters away on the map. I had reached an impassable point with the SUV. ¡°We hoof it from here.¡± ¡°Hoof it?¡± ERNI asked. ¡°We walk.¡± The air had cooled as a thick blanket of ash, debris, and smoke had blotted out the summer sun. I could hear nearby battles. Though I couldn¡¯t see them, the percussive blasts and screams echoed through the air. I could also see trails of smoke wafting above the rooftops. Occasionally, a yellow or a red dot would glance past the border of my mini-map. Just as quickly disappearing as they moved out of range. I realized that the Skybotron had gone dormant. ¡°Hey ERNI, what¡¯s up with the Skybotron? Nothing new to report?¡± ¡°The planet-wide display is primarily active during pre-game, half-time, and after the game is over. All other updates are presented as studio game breaks, easily accessible from your menu.¡± An ISSN button flashed in the top row of my HUD. ¡°ISSN?¡± ¡°Intergalactic Slayer Sports Network. It is the most popular channel for multiverse combat sports fans.¡± I nodded and mentally clicked the button. A small, rectangular picture-in-picture window appeared, floating on the right-hand side of my HUD, just below my health gauge. The window was auto-muted with subtitles and featured Blink and Gill giving commentary as footage from the battlefields played in the background. Currently, they were featuring a shot of Dom Blady destroying what looked like a platoon of half-crab, half-humanoid creatures with his patented Blady Bombs. Jess and Rod were right there, slashing and blasting alongside him. Unmute. ¡°¡­expanding his early lead on the scoreboard and already living up to his moniker as the greatest,¡± Blink exclaimed. ¡°He really is¡­ clawing¡­ his way to the top,¡± Gill chortled. Mute. I decided to keep the window up to keep tabs on what was happening in the game. But I didn¡¯t want to hear that crap all of the time. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°What a pretty flower,¡± ERNI remarked. I looked at the gauntlet screen, which showed ERNI¡¯s face, glitching. Then I looked down to see what he was referring to. There was a dead man on the sidewalk. His head crushed. The blood blooming into a floral pattern. ¡°That¡¯s, uh¡­ that¡¯s not a flower, ERNI.¡± ¡°Why, yes, I suppose you¡¯re right.¡± I looked back at the gauntlet screen as ERNI¡¯s face blinked back to a normal state. ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­ what was I saying?¡± he asked. I debated whether I should tell him and that brought up another concern. Could ERNI hear all of my thoughts? I decided to test this out. I thought of something with the distinct intention that he should not know about it. ¡°ERNI, I think you¡¯re more messed up than you think. Can you hear this?¡± I waited a tense moment. When he didn¡¯t respond, I relaxed a bit. Okay, so I could shield thoughts from him. This was comforting. The idea that someone or something could invade my mental sanctuary and scan my innermost thoughts was supremely icky. Still, this episode was a solid reminder that ERNI was still malfunctioning on some level. I had to remember that. I swung my rucksack on and adjusted the top flap to allow for what little sunlight there was to hit Count Basil. A thought occurred. ¡°ERNI, can you store Count Basil in inventory to keep him protected?¡± ¡°You are referring to your basil plant?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Unfortunately, I cannot. Biological items are incompatible with my inter-dimensional inventory system. Stowing them inside would cause immediate expiration.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± I nodded. ¡°May I inquire why you are carrying an herb plant and cooking utensils? Is it your intention to cook while in the field?¡± I let out a big laugh. I thought it was the first one I had today and then I remembered the one I had with Sola. ¡°No, no, they just all have sentimental value for me. Count Basil¡¯s sort of a friend.¡± ¡°I do not understand. Plants cannot speak or communicate.¡± ¡°No, but their presence can be soothing. It¡¯s the same reason a lot of people love gardening or have houseplants. Well, or at least they did.¡± Every time I referred to people, there was the constant painful reminder of the mass execution we had just experienced as a species. I wondered just how many of us had managed to survive. I took a peek at my health gauge. It was still at 83 and I still had a black eye and was missing a tooth. I thought about the bottle of Healer-Ade in my playbook. A translucent bottle immediately materialized in my hand. The liquid was a glowing neon orange with small green spheres floating inside like tapioca. I uncapped the bottle and reacted to its rancid smell. ¡°Ugh!¡± I was curious if I only drank a portion of the bottle, if that would give me a proportionate healing effect. I guzzled down half and recapped the bottle. The good news was it tasted a lot better than it smelled. Still, it was a strange flavor¡ª a blend of citrus fruits and¡­ medicine? I could feel a strange sensation around my damaged eye and inside my mouth. I watched my health gauge as it ticked up from 83 back all the way to 100. I walked over to the shattered front window of a building and looked at my reflection in one of the shards. ¡°No fucking way.¡± My black eye was completely gone and when I flashed a smile, my lost tooth had regrown back in place. It was as if I had never taken a single hit. I glanced again at the bottle of Healer-Ade. There was half left. ¡°Okay,¡± I nodded with a smile. It was the first time in my entire life that I had ever appreciated fractions. ¡°ERNI, these power-ups are pretty amazing.¡± ¡°Their effects are quite substantial.¡± ¡°Are there ones that can increase muscle content¡­ make me a little more buff?¡± ¡°Yes, they exist.¡± ¡°So they can affect anything, right? Like any part of my body?¡± ¡°Is there something specific you are inquiring about?¡± ¡°No, no¡­ just a general question.¡± ¡°Then, why are you thinking of your reproductive organ?¡± I immediately felt hot and embarrassed. I stammered for a good way to respond. ¡°Uh¡­ it was just a completely random thought?¡± ¡°It is probably useful for you to know that I am equipped with a deception detection system. Using a series of biometric readings, such as voice stress, respiration, and heart rate, I can often tell when a user is being deceitful.¡± ¡°That¡¯s good to know. Okay, so¡­ these orbs,¡± I said, changing the subject. ¡°Tell me a little bit about them.¡± ¡°Orbs are glowing spheres randomly generated in the game, one per warrior. They are the equivalent of what you might call a ball in one of your human sports. They are about the size of a human basketball. Each is equipped with a thermonuclear core, and thus can become very unstable if not properly protected. They also contain a chemical pheromone that is irresistible to monster breeds seeded into the game.¡± ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s a little bit different from a basketball.¡± ¡°Every quarter you must find your designated orb and move it into a scoring zone before time expires. If you don¡¯t, you are automatically eliminated from the contest.¡± ¡°Eliminated in terms of like¡­ dead eliminated?¡± ¡°No, you would be instantly teleported off-world and branded with a DNF for ¡®Did Not Finish.¡¯ A significant amount of participants labeled with DNFs end up taking their own lives. Societally, it¡¯s very much a brand of shame and disgrace.¡± ¡°Got it. Okay, so scoop up one of these rocks and run it into one of these scoring zones? Sounds easy enough. I¡¯m pretty quick on my feet.¡± ¡°If it were that easy, no one would ever be eliminated. As I said, monsters have an insatiable attraction to the orbs. The moment you possess one, you become a high-level target.¡± I knew I would need better armor and better weapons. I was hoping to find some before I got to the orb. ¡°Besides trunks, trophies, and looting, what are other ways to get new weapons?¡± ¡°There are optional side-quests accessible in your playbook.¡± ¡°Okay, so maybe it¡¯s time to grind and do some of these quests to get better weapons.¡± ¡°You can certainly adopt that strategy. However, the quarter countdown timer will not pause. If time expires while you are pursuing upgrades instead of scoring an orbdown, you would be eliminated.¡± The overall strategy and challenges of the game were starting to crystallize in my mind. It was a balance of finding these orb thingies and scoring with them and performing flashy monster kills. But, you also had to worry about ways to upgrade your weapons and armor so that you¡¯d be around long enough to do those aforementioned tasks. It was actually a brilliantly designed game¡ªone that I would have enjoyed playing in VR rather than on the ash-strewn streets of my decimated planet. My buddy, Jay¡ªwell¡­ J-Dawg8¡ªwould love this game too. I wondered if he made it out alive. I missed his in-game chatter. ¡°Hey ERNI, this is a long shot, but are you able to search through internet logs and identify a human with the gamer ID of J-Dawg8? See if he happened to survive the planet purge?¡± ERNI was silent for a moment. I could tell he was doing his best to search through what data streams he had access to. A moment later he returned with a somber reply. ¡°I am unable to determine that. This J-Dawg8 is your friend?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Like Count Basil, the basil plant, is your friend?¡± I smirked at the absurdity of the question, but responded, ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Well, I hope that your friend is alright.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ me too.¡± 11 - THE WEAPONS I HAD ALL ALONG 1st Quarter: 24:53:17 Warriors: 4,677,923 I followed the orb indicator on the map. It led me to an old manufacturing complex, made up of interconnected factories and substations with towering smokestacks. According to the map, the orb was nestled somewhere deep within the heart of the compound. ¡°Needle in a haystack?¡± I scratched my head. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t understand,¡± ERNI said. ¡°It¡¯s nothing¡­ just an expression.¡± I circled a few of the buildings, looking for an easy way in. Of course, all of the entrances were locked shut. I climbed a rickety ladder up to one of the rooftops and found my way in through a broken skylight. Inside, the building looked like a decommissioned train car factory. There were all sorts of gigantic, dormant machines and train parts. The place was layered with cobwebs and coated with dust. I heard a strange chittering coming from the deeper bowels of the building. ME: Any ideas on what that was? ERNI: I¡¯m unfamiliar with that sound pattern. ME: Yeah¡­ we really need to get you an audio detection upgrade. I walked between lilting stacks of oxidized train wheels and rows of stamped sheet metal. I discovered the remains of a homeless person who must have been squatting here. There was a pile of ash, a grungy beanie, soiled shirt, jeans, and a sleeping bag, along with a couple of freshly-emptied bottles of beer. And there was something else¡ªa foul stench in the air. I looked at the map. Now there was a ¡®Distance-to-Item¡¯ ticker counting down from 140 meters. With each step, the number got slightly smaller. I heard more noises coming from the distance and equipped the rubber chicken nunchucks. I¡¯d seen what they could do, but I needed more than just a melee weapon. I needed something with range. And I had major doubts about what a T-shirt cannon could do to a charging enemy. SSSSSSHEWP! Something whizzed past my ear with such velocity that it could only be one thing. I¡¯d heard that sound too many times through my 3D gaming headphones. I ducked behind a huge metal press and looked at my map. I saw a yellow dot that quickly faded. ME: ERNI, that was a live round! Somebody is shooting at me! Wait. Was that a warrior?! We¡¯re not allowed to directly attack one another! And where the hell did he go?! ERNI: I am unsure. It is true. Warriors are not allowed to terminate one another until the Sudden Death Final. This is a direct violation of the tournament rules and cause for immediate disqualification. I swapped the nunchucks for the T-shirt cannon. It was the only thing I had that looked remotely like a gun. Maybe I could bluff my way out of this one. My eyes darted between the map and the direction that I thought the bullet came from: a second-story concourse overlooking the factory floor. I looked back and forth, scanning the shadows. ME: I don¡¯t see anyone. Can you? ERNI: Perhaps they are using a cloaking mechanism. That made sense. After all, the yellow dot on the map only appeared for a brief moment. Perhaps their camouflage was interrupted when they fired. ME: Think, Sam. Think, think, think¡­ I was top-ranked when it came to KDAs in Ogre Splat. But in real life¡­? Totally different situation. There was no respawn here. This was one and done. PING!!! Another bullet ricocheted off the metal press I was hiding under. The yellow blip flashed on the map again. I squinted, taking a good look at the second floor railing. This time, I spotted something¡ªbarely noticeable¡ªa luminous shimmer in the shadows. ME: I see you¡­ I lined up a shot. Since, I didn¡¯t have a cloaking mechanism, I was certain he could see me on his map. I was a sitting duck unless I could figure a way to flush him out. Lucky for me, he broke the cardinal rule of sniping. He didn¡¯t move between shots. FOOMP! I fired the T-shirt cannon. A balled T-shirt fired up, arcing diagonally right at him. I don¡¯t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn¡¯t what happened next. As soon as the T-shirt contacted him, it auto-equipped onto his body. There stood this phantom warrior, completely invisible, except for the ¡°I Survived Annihilation¡± T-shirt that was fitted around his torso. I had to stifle a laugh as the disembodied T-shirt started to move like a ghost. The T-shirt cannon icon in my HUD now displayed an ammo count of 5. The T-shirt dropped to the factory floor and made a beeline towards me. I re-equipped the chicken nunchucks and ran straight at it. This was the craziest thing I¡¯d ever done. It was ludicrous and funny until it wasn¡¯t. I saw a couple of muzzle flashes and felt the bullets¡¯ impact before I heard the gunshots. I screamed, clutching my chest. I looked down, expecting to see blood but was stunned to see the metal slugs, flattened against the rusty, armor chest plate. The T-shirt sprinted towards me, mere feet away, now. My chest pounded with pain. I gasped for air, feeling like I¡¯d been hit with a sledgehammer. Still, I swung the nunchucks in a vicious arc to where the warrior¡¯s head should be. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. BUCKKAWWWW! They squawked as they made impact. The warrior decloaked, flying through the air, landing with a heavy thud 20 feet away. I struggled to my feet, coughing up blood. I limped over towards him and raised the nunchucks to deal another blow. A yellow flag dropped next to the warrior¡¯s body. A shrill, digital whistle pierced the air. A refbot appeared, freezing me in place with a stun beam emitted from its palm. ¡°Penalty!¡± it announced in a tinny voice. ¡°Warrior assault.¡± Its robotic head swiveled from me to the downed warrior. It projected a second beam on him and he quickly vanished, teleported elsewhere. ¡°Penalty enforcement: immediate weapon confiscation.¡± The nunchucks disappeared from my hands and playbook. The yellow flag and the refbot also dissipated. ¡°What the actual hell was that about?! This guy tries to kill me, and I get a penalty for defending myself?! ERNI, help me out here!¡± ¡°I am unsure of how to interpret this sequence of events. It does not align with core Slayer Bowl rules. Let me investigate.¡± ¡°Yeah, you do that.¡± I clutched my chest and heaved for air. Though my healing abilities were kicking in, the bullet bruise still hurt like a motherfucker. It took a moment to catch my breath and settle down. The chittering was growing louder in the distance, and I didn¡¯t have time for this. I had to get to the orb. That¡¯s when the first creature leapt over my shoulder. It landed with a solid thunk and spun around, looking at me. It was an insect about the size of a house cat. It looked like: ¡°¡­a grasshopper?¡± An info box flashed above the creature. Gas-Hopper. Level 6. The thing was hideous¡ªdark green¡ªwith a melted blend of conjoined faces as if several pupae had competed for the genetic real estate only to reach a stalemate. The gas-hopper and I circled one another. It stared at me with those multiple faces, mandibles chomping. I was chock full of adrenaline from the warrior fight and put up my dukes. ¡°Oh, what?! You wanna go?! Come on, then!¡± I was pretty amped up, and I could be wrong, but the gas-hopper raised a leg, and I could have sworn it flashed a middle claw at me. ¡°You crickety motherf¡ª¡° PPCHHT! The creature jumped straight at my head, cracking me in the bridge of my nose, knocking me down hard. My face throbbed with pain. I blinked, eyes watering. I wiped wet nostrils, fingers coming back bloody. I got back to my feet and the damn bug spun around and chittered at me. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s it, crust-fucker!¡± It flexed its hind legs and jumped again. I cocked my arm back and unleashed a punch, connecting with its face. My knuckles ached as the creature tumbled to the ground. It righted itself and hissed, spitting out a wad of green blood. ¡°Yeah! That¡¯s right!¡± I shouted. ¡°You can catch these hands!¡± Damn. I was starting to sound like Todd from work. And I remember just how well that worked out for him. The gas-hopper jumped again, corkscrewing mid-air. I threw another punch, this time, connecting with its thorax. A plume of green gas spewed from its rectum as the creature landed, dead. The noxious fumes wafted in the air, stinging my skin. I covered my nose. ¡°Gross!¡± My field of vision flashed red as my health gauge indicated¡ª Alert: Poison Damage! ¡°Aghh!¡± I groaned, feeling the effects of the poison all throughout my body. Burning blisters broke out across my arms and face¡ªfizzing and popping. My map lit up with a group of approaching red dots. More monsters were moving in fast. I looked down at the dead gas-hopper and saw the familiar message. Auto-Looted Gas-Hopper. Item Acquired: Mad Hops Play. Item Acquired: Gas Knuckles. I didn¡¯t know what the hell Gas Knuckles were, but I immediately equipped them. Both of my fists became fortified with metal knuckles, the tip of each bearing a protruding gas nozzle. The gas-hopper swarm came quickly, leaping from all directions. I started swinging, wild and furious, landing a series of punches. The Gas Knuckles fired a small cloud of red vapor with each strike. Clearly, this was as poisonous to them as their noxious green fumes were to me. Several of them sprayed me with their gas. My vision flashed red and more blisters rose on my skin with each dose of poison. I hacked and coughed, fighting through the pain. They surrounded me in a circle, antennas twitching as if they were sending messages to one another on how to coordinate their attack. ME: ERNI, you¡¯re hella quiet! Feel free to jump in here with any helpful advice! ERNI: During combat engagement, my primary objective is to offer silent support and to not distract. Your current counter-attacks have proven effective. I suggest you continue this course. ¡°Okay!¡± I shouted as I put another couple of gas-hoppers down. There were only two left now. They flanked me on opposite sides. I kept a ready stance, waiting for their next move. Antennas flicking, they launched their attack in unison, both leaping at me from opposite sides at the same time. I caught each by a leg and began to bash them into each other. Their bodies collided with a sick¡ª CRUNCH! The first few strikes, they wriggled, hissed, and fought. But, soon, their limp bodies turn to gooey, green pulp¡ªlimbs ripping free, crushed eyes leaking goo from their sockets. I kept on smashing them, over and over, until ERNI finally spoke up. ¡°Sam¡­ Sam¡­ I believe they are dead.¡± I was heaving for breath. I dropped their carcasses. My body shuddered from the effects of the poison. Pustules bubbled and popped all over me. My HUD flashed red¡ª Warning: You Are Hurt. Seek Cover Immediately! I could hear my heartbeat, thumping in synced rhythm with the flashing. I summoned the Healer-Ade from my inventory and drank the rest of it. Healer-Ade Depleted. The bottle disappeared from my hands as my health gauge transitioned back to green. I took a few deep breaths as the boils on my skin closed up and my audible heartbeat faded away. I stood in the middle of the gas-hopper massacre. Dismembered antennae, legs, and wings twitched¡ªpost-mortem. Half-severed heads leaked pools of green blood. The stench was unimaginable. Several notifications appeared. New Trophy! Mob Mentality. Reward: 25% Faster healing from damage sustained during mob fights. New Trophy! Catch These Hands. Reward: +15% Damage inflicted from standard strikes. Auto-Looted Gas-Hoppers. Item Acquired: Antennas Up Play. Item Acquired: Compound Eye Vision. Item Acquired: Silent But Deadly Cloaking x1. Item Acquired: Insecto-Exoskeleton Armor Set. Item Acquired: Toxic Fart Grenades x3. The items automatically added to my playbook and I instantly swapped my rusty armor for the exoskeleton set. Sure, the rusty armor had saved my life, but it was extremely uncomfortable and difficult to move in. This new armor was greenish in hue, lightweight, and extremely maneuverable. It had tiny spikes running down the sides of the shoulders, arms, and legs, like the tibial spurs on a grasshopper¡¯s limbs. ¡°You handled yourself very well,¡± ERNI said. ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, dusting my hands off. ¡°I¡­ uh¡­ don¡¯t like bugs.¡± ¡°Clearly.¡± I did a slow turn, scanning the area for any further enemies. And that¡¯s when I saw an equipment chest at the far end of the warehouse. I stood over the chest, surprised that this one wasn¡¯t open. I looked up at the roof to see if it had fallen through, but there was no hole. This led me to a theory that while some chests dropped into our world, others were randomly seeded in certain places. I thought, ¡°Open,¡± and the trunk¡¯s metal catches unlatched and its lid flipped open like a switchblade. I was hoping for a gun, but what I got instead, immediately changed my mind and my entire strategy going forward. The hologram swirled and shimmered in front of me. It looked like a sword with a plus button floating next to it. As I touched it, the hologram dissolved, and a pop-up replaced it. Item Acquired: Existing Equipment Booster.. Upgrade the capabilities of an existing weapon in your inventory. I mentally stowed the Gas Knuckles, and my mind turned to the weapons I had all along¡­ my pizza cutters. 12 - PUNY PIZZA EARTHLING I wasn¡¯t sure how the upgrade would work, but I drew the pizza cutters from their holsters. Holding them in my hands, I simply thought, ¡®upgrade.¡¯ Both sparkled with a yellow sheen. I watched as the circular edges transformed from straight to serrated. They spun automatically, blurring with destructive speed, emitting a high-pitched metallic whine. ¡°Hell yeah!¡± A luminous, circular forcefield, projected from each. A notification popped up. Existing Equipment Booster Depleted. The following upgrades have been applied to Pizza Cutters: + Serrated Edges. + Auto-Spin. + Shield Emitters. ¡°Cool! These things are shields now?¡± I laughed. ¡°Badass!¡± I performed several criss-cross slashes, swiping through the air as if I was performing a martial arts kata. I even threw in a couple of body spins just for good measure, before slamming them both back into their holsters. ¡°Let¡¯s go find this orb.¡± ---- I advanced into a machine shop when ERNI chirped with some new intel. ¡°I have uncovered an unfortunate bit of data.¡± ¡°Yeah? Go on.¡± ¡°I have intercepted and unscrambled part of an encrypted message on the ISL internal network. The origin appears to be from the Commissioner¡¯s office.¡± ¡°Krivlax?¡± ¡°There appears to be a bounty of 20 million credits on your head.¡± ¡°A bounty?! What?¡± My mind raced. ¡°But, why me? I¡¯m a nobody.¡± ¡°The message details not wanting to be embarrassed by the ¡®Puny Pizza Earthling.¡¯¡± ¡°Wait a minute,¡± I smirked, ¡°They¡¯re afraid of me?¡± ¡°I am not sure, based on the context of the message. It could be that they are more concerned about the humiliation of an incomplete planet purge. To my knowledge, you are the first planet purge survivor to gain actual entry into Slayer Bowl as a competitor.¡± I could immediately see the threat that shame might pose for someone of Krivlax¡¯s power and reach. It would be like watching an ant walk into your kitchen and saying, ¡°Sit down, bitch. That¡¯s my milk.¡± Okay, maybe not¡­ but that was a fun way to imagine it. ¡°20 million credits, huh?¡± I mulled aloud. ¡°Is that a lot?¡± ¡°Not really. But, it would be enough to entice some of the fringe competitors who wouldn¡¯t mind accepting a DNF from the tournament in exchange for a quick cash payout.¡± ¡°Huh¡­¡± I didn¡¯t know whether to be impressed or insulted. Still, this posed a very real risk, and one I would have to deal with as I pursued orb retrieval. What I really needed was some type of Spidey-Sense, ESP upgrade¡ªespecially with would-be assassins using cloaking mechanisms to hide themselves from my map. ¡°ERNI, I know you don¡¯t have heat vision or audio detection capabilities¡­ but, besides visual scanning, what other environmental sensors do you have?¡± ¡°I am equipped with the essential environmental sensors to preserve and protect my user. Here is a handy list¡­¡± Environmental Sensors: - Temperature - Air Quality (oxygen percentage, particulate matter, toxic gases) - Radiation Levels - Atmospheric Pressure - Chemical Hazards - Biological Hazards (pathogens, venoms, toxins) - Light Levels My geeky mind was racing. How do you spot a ghost that you can¡¯t see? I thought about all of the AI prompts I had written in school, and wondered if there was some way to use ERNI¡¯s sensors to detect invisible enemies. ¡°ERNI, could you established a baseline, hybrid, multi-sense mapping of every environment we walk into, cross-referencing gas levels, room temperature, and atmospheric pressure?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± ¡°And, would you be able to measure small, fractional changes to that baseline on a second-by-second basis?¡± ERNI was silent for a moment as he ran the calculations. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Would that tax your neural processor to where you wouldn¡¯t be able to help me with other simultaneous tasks?¡± Stolen story; please report. ¡°Not in the least. I am equipped with a Cosmo QuantumCore Zyrilliumite processor with a clock speed of 1.4 Pentaherz and 4.9 billion quantum-tunneling cores. This equips me with the capability of handling more than 2.4 sextillion simultaneous calculations at an energy efficiency of¡ª¡° ¡°Yeah, okay, I get it!¡± I interrupted. ¡°You¡¯ve got a big-ass brain.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Good. Well, use it to create and run my proposed scenario on an ongoing basis and label it ¡®Ghost Detector¡¯.¡± ¡°Ghost Detector?¡± ¡°Yeah. Hopefully, it should help us find them before they find us.¡± ¡°As you wish.¡± New Sub-Directive: Ghost Detector Activated. The map in my lower right now had a gentle, sweeping pulse that started from the center, rippling outward, kind of like sonar. ¡°Sweet. Thanks.¡± As I punched through cobwebs and wove through twisted pipes, I marveled at the fact that a single human like me could pose such a threat to an intergalactic organization headquartered a cosmos away. I wondered what Krivlax thought of me and imagined what it would be like if we ever met face to face. I fantasized about drawing my pizza cutters and slashing that green, smug-smiling head right off his shoulders. But that would have to wait. More red dots flared on my map and the orb was now fifty meters away. I stood at the edge of a drop-off, peering down a ladder that led into darkness. I saw a pulsing glow affecting the shadows every few seconds below.¡± ¡°The orb¡¯s down there.¡± ¡°I agree with your assessment.¡± I flipped through my playbook and spotted the Myopia Madness play. I called it up. Myopia Madness Play. Causes temporary confusion and nearsightedness to a pack of enemies. I thought Activate and the play square flashed, then grayed out. Myopia Madness Play Activated. I heard an immediate series of howls from the darkness below. As I scrambled down the ladder, I asked¡ª ME: Hey, ERNI¡­ why did the play gray out? ERNI: All plays in your playbook are single-use, unless otherwise indicated. ME: Great¡­ I splashed onto the grimy floor of the lower level. I could see dozens of gas-hoppers, holding their heads, clawing at their eyes in rampant frustration. A protective visor extended down the front of my helmet, shielding my face behind a see-through barrier. Insecto-Exoskeleton Armor Gas Protection Activated. I grinned. This made perfect sense. The armor that I looted from the other gas-hoppers had built-in protection from their own toxins. Probably intended to prevent friendly fire. ¡°Thanks!¡± I muttered, drawing my pizza cutters. I launched into a solid sprint. Both pizza cutters spun up to full speed, unleashing a hellish whine. They shrieked through the air like a harbinger of death for these blind-ass bugs just ahead of me. I reached the cluster of gas-hoppers and got to slicing. I hacked and slashed my way through the hive as each bug popped into a green cloud of goo and gas. This time my health gauge didn¡¯t take a single hit. I even got a notification for a¡ª Baker¡¯s Dozen Kill Combo! Reward: Badass Baker Badge. I lowered the pizza cutters and the blades winded down. I looked at them and grinned like a kid on Christmas. ¡°Badass¡­¡± I auto-looted the creatures but found nothing of real use. I holstered the pizza cutters and noticed a flashing light bouncing off a wall up ahead. The source of the light was coming from around the corner. I imagined it had to be the orb. According to my map, there were no more enemies in sight, and the Ghost Detector hadn¡¯t triggered yet. I rounded the corner and there it was, hovering mid-air, glowing like a nuclear basketball. As I looked at it, an info box popped above. Orb. Maintain possession and carry this into a scoring zone to perform an orbdown. Objective Complete: Retrieve Orb. New Trophy! Orb Seeker. Reward: +100,000 points. New Trophy! Orb Cherry Popped. Reward: Sure Hands Play. Level Up! You have reached Level 2! New abilities gained:* +5% Faster healing. +5% More damage inflicted with all attacks. +5% Points bonus. New Objective: Reach Scoring Zone. I approached the orb cautiously, kinda like Indiana Jones walking up to that golden statue thingy. Only, I didn¡¯t have a bag of sand to swap it out with. I didn¡¯t know if a bunch of poison darts or arrows or a giant boulder were going to swing out from the rafters to try and take me out. I just had to go for it. I rubbed my chin, reached out, and snatched the orb straight out of the air. It was lighter than I imagined. I tensed, bracing for the impact of any deadly booby traps headed my way. After a moment, nothing happened, and I realized I was okay. ¡°Alright, ERNI¡­ go ahead and put this bad boy in the inventory.¡± ¡°Orbs are not permitted inside your inventory. You must physically carry them into a scoring zone.¡± ¡°Wait, what?¡± ¡°It is one of the challenges of the game. If another warrior were to steal your orb, that would be considered a turnover. You would automatically be teleported to another part of the global game map and must search for an orb all over again.¡± ¡°What the hell, man? What¡¯s the point of going through all of this hassle if somebody else can just steal the orb from me?¡± ¡°Are you familiar with interceptions and fumbles in American football?¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah, I understand the concept. Fine. Let¡¯s just get this thing to the scoring zone and fast.¡± ¡°The nearest scoring zone has been populated onto your map.¡± I looked at the map and a pulsing green circle icon hovered at the top edge. A distance-to-target indicator listed it at three kilometers away. I stuffed the orb inside my rucksack, making sure I didn¡¯t crush Count Basil. Who knows¡­ maybe its glowing light might actually help the little guy. I made my way out of the factory complex and back out onto the street. There was no way to drive through. I was going to have to make it on foot. I started at a light jogger¡¯s pace, remembering my training from cross country. ¡®Don¡¯t start hot!¡¯ the coach used to yell at us. ¡®Save your energy! Pace yourself! It¡¯s the hotshots that fire off the line that burn out way before they get to the finish.¡¯ I remembered that, and I also remembered that my lungs didn¡¯t used to burn like this ten years ago. Still, I was in good enough shape and I kept to a seven-minute mile pace. Several times along the way, I tensed up as red and yellow dots danced around the peripheral edges of my map. The yellow dots dissipated, but the red dots didn¡¯t. They were closing in. ¡°Monsters incoming,¡± I huffed. ¡°Remember, the orb emits pheromones that are extremely attractive to monsters. They are drawn to it like a tracking beacon.¡± ¡°Great.¡± I picked up my pace. Even though this armor was lighter and more comfortable than the rust job, it didn¡¯t seem to offer any speed-augmentation abilities. Nor was it designed for fast running. On a whim, I wondered if leaping would make me travel faster. And that¡¯s when the armor really started to shine. Almost immediately, I found myself run-hopping instead of jogging. With each bounding leap, I covered nearly half a city block through the air, before landing and jumping again. To be honest, I felt like an idiot and I¡¯m sure I looked like one too. But, the armor was getting the job done. The red dots that had been trailing me receded into the distance. ¡°Haha, suckers!¡± ¡°According to phylogenetic entries, gas-hoppers are not classified as suckers. Perhaps, you are thinking of leeches?¡± Ah, good old ERNI. Always good for a textbook answer. Up ahead, I saw a green, three-dimensional arrow rotating in the air, pointing down at a circular zone on the ground. The area was about the size of an inner-city fountain. The whole zone pulsed with hypnotic, neon green. I felt it beckoning me¡­ ¡¯Come here, warrior. Drop off your orb. Come get these points. You¡¯re a total badass.¡¯ I was nearly there when several notification flashed across my HUD: Objective Completed: Reach Scoring Zone. New Objective: Defeat Boss Monster. ¡°Uhhhh, what?¡± I said, looking around. ¡°ERNI, what the hell is this about?¡± ¡°Each scoring zone is defended by a monster boss. This is an essential part of the game¡¯s defense systems.¡± ¡°Great,¡± I thought. ¡°Then where the hell is the boss?¡± And that¡¯s when I turned and saw it. 13 - NOBODY BRAGS WHEN THEY’RE DEAD The creature was 10¡­ no¡­ maybe 12 feet tall. There¡¯s no other way to describe it except to say that it had a bodybuilder¡¯s physique in a humanoid form, but with webbed wings and the head of a pterodactyl. Its spotted green and brown skin rippled with veiny musculature. As I stared at it wide-eyed, an info box flashed above. Pukeodactyl. Level 9. I glanced at the ISSN feed in my HUD. Apparently, my boss fight was being live-streamed to gazillions of eyes. Unmute. ¡°Oh, buddy, here we go!¡± Blink exclaimed with glee. ¡°Looks like our human warrior, Sam, has finally met his match¡ªhis first boss fight with the terrible, Pukeodactyl!¡± ¡°You know, I gotta say¡­ I¡¯m gonna miss having the little bugger around,¡± Gill said with a somber face. ¡°Ah, who the hell am I kidding? Let¡¯s watch him die!¡± Mute. I could imagine the betting dens going crazy. Shifty-eyed goblin bookies, snatching handfuls of credits from eager bettors who couldn¡¯t wait to see me get crushed by this thing. The Pukeodactyl bounced back and forth on his feet like a boxer waiting for the starting bell. His health bar appeared in the top of my HUD. It was a long, green line with no specific HP numbers. I didn¡¯t know how many hits it would take to kill the thing. I just knew it was time to get down¡ª SHIIING! I snatched my pizza cutters, raising them into a fighting stance. They whizzed to life. ¡°Alright, Crust-Fucker! Let¡¯s see what you got!¡± The Pukeodactyl flapped its wings three times, opened its mouth, and emitted a terrifying shriek. BRAAAACK! A flaming wave of projectile vomit launched right at me. ¡°Oh shit!¡± I dove out of the way. Fortunately, I easily cleared the attack with the enhanced hopping capabilities of my armor. I landed 15 feet to the left. I glanced at the ISSN feed. Blink and Gill were both reacting with shocked faces. ME: Whoa! Yeah, that¡¯s right, your boy ain¡¯t gonna be that easy to take out. ERNI: I suggest you focus less on your reputation and more on your survival. ME: Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. The Pukeodactyl flapped its wings, flying in my direction. It landed with thunderous force, cracking the sidewalk below. The shockwave knocked me off my feet. On my back, it prepared its second attack, flapping its wings three times and opening its mouth with another shriek. BRAAAACK! It fired another round of flaming puke. This time it clipped my armor shoulder pad, singing the edge of the metal. I could feel the blazing heat. ME: Damn, that¡¯s hot! ERNI: Indeed. I suggest you avoid taking a direct hit. That could prove catastrophic. ME: And, fuuuuck¡­ it stinks! What the hell did that thing eat?!¡± I looked at the puke on the sidewalk. As the flames rescinded, I saw bile-streaked chunks of undigested flesh, rodent carcasses, clumps of hair, and some curdled brown stuff that I didn¡¯t want to know about. ¡°Gross!¡± The steaming pile smelled like frostbitten feet that had been simmering in a pot of diarrhea. The Pukeodactyl started to flap its wings again. By now, I had already identified its pre-strike pattern: flapping its wings three times. As any seasoned gamer would tell you¡­ study your enemy, find the patterns, spot the weakness, and look for an opportunity to strike. I thought Toxic Fart Grenade, and one appeared in my hand. I pulled the pin and lobbed it at the creature. KA-BOOM! It collided against the monster¡¯s massive pecs, exploding into a plume of green gas. AAAACK! The creature squawked, falling onto its back. Again, the ground cracked from impact. The creature still had three-quarters of its health bar remaining.. If it bleeds¡­ I nodded, remembering a quote from one of my favorite movies. I leaped through the air, arcing downward toward the fallen creature, pizza cutters thrusting forward. The monster was faster, flapping its wings and shuffling out of my landing path. My pizza cutters struck the ground. The metal blades whirred, spinning up sparks and bits of concrete as it carved two deep grooves into the ground. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Crap!¡± The monster stumbled back to its feet¡ªor claws, or whatever the hell those things were. ARR, ARR, ARR! It taunted, waving a spindly, bat-like finger in my direction, shaking its head. ¡°Why, you mother¡ª¡° BRAAAACK! This time, it unleashed a sustained rope of fire right in my direction without its pre-strike, flap sequence. I was caught off guard, but managed to duck in time. I tumbled out of the way as it aimed the fire spray down to where I was crouching. ¡°Clever bastard,¡± I said, rolling back to my feet. ¡°You broke pattern.¡± ARR, ARR, ARR, ARR! The creature clutched its stomach and laughed haughtily. I used the opening, leaping with such speed that it wasn¡¯t prepared. I landed two diagonal slashes across its torso. Purple blood sprayed as the creature wailed in pain. Its health bar was half green and half red now. ¡°Who¡¯s laughing now, beak breath?!¡± The Pukeodactyl hissed, small poofs of flame flaring from its nostrils. ¡°That¡¯s it. Come on, big boy!¡± I said as we circled one another. It flapped its wings three times. I leaped out of the way. This time, the creature flew into the air and smacked me with one of its wings. THWACK! FWUMP! I landed face-first on the concrete. ¡°Ohhhh shit.¡± I spit out blood and was pretty sure my nose was broken. I struggled to get back to my feet, just as the creature dashed forward, closthelining me. CRACK! I hit the pavement again, choking and gurgling, clutching my neck. Warning: You Are Hurt. Seek Cover Immediately! My vision flashed red. My heartbeat faded up. I could hear the creature mocking me in the distance. ARR, ARR, ARR! I rolled over onto my knees as the creature lined me up for another attack. I grabbed my pizza cutters, heaving for air. I had underestimated the creature. I had been playing checkers, and he was playing chess. But what he didn¡¯t know¡­ was I was a badass at chess, too. He opened his mouth again and unleashed another blast of fire. I raised the pizza cutters in an X pattern in front of me. The auto shields flared to life, repelling his flames directly back at him. The fire struck him right in the face, causing him to cease his attack and squeal at an unearthly pitch. His health bar was flashing red now. New Trophy! Counterpuncher. Reward: Mass Deflection Play Pack. The Pukeodactyl shook its head. The flames extinguished, and molten flesh dripped from its face. Blood drizzled down its jaw. Bits of its brain began to leek from an exposed portion of its skull. It switched into a dancing defensive routine, shuttling back and forth with its pterodactyl wings covering its body like a vampire, occasionally peeking its head above the protective rim of its wing shield. Fortunately, I had started healing. My vision stopped flashing red and I think my nose had repaired itself too. I hopped toward it again, slashing the pizza cutters through the air. The monster ducked, sending me right over its shoulders. It slashed a jagged claw across my left bicep, ripping out a chunk of meaty flesh. Blood spurted as I screamed, falling to the ground. ¡°GAAAAHHH!¡± The creature raised its wings and brought down a spiky claw. I blocked it with my other cutter, deflecting the blow with its shields. It must have emitted a shock because the creature howled and backed off. Its health bar was flashing faster now. I rose to my feet, unsteady, blood spilling down my left arm. I lumbered forward, a cutter in my right hand. I was breathing hard, biting back pain, through gnashed teeth. ¡°Enough of this.¡± ME: You want flashy? I¡¯ll give you flashy. I sprinted toward the monster, feigning left and right, ducking low, and then unleashing a hellish uppercut swipe with my right pizza cutter. SPLOOSH! The spinning blade plunged into his abdomen, chewing his insides, sawing its way up through his intestines and organs, splitting his ribcage, bisecting his esophagus and tearing straight up to the top of its head. The blade spun at such speed that it sliced the creature in two. Guts and organs flopped out as a geyser of purple blood sprayed. I got covered in the shit. The creature slumped over in two halves, dead. Pukeodactyl Defeated! Objective Completed: Defeat Boss Monster. Flashy Kill Bonus: +25,000 Points. New Trophy! Uppercut Above the Rest. Reward: +5% Striking Power. I stood there, drenched in purple goo, gasping for air. I suddenly realizing just how out of breath I was. I looked down at the gash in my arm, pleased to see it was starting to close. Auto-Looted Pukeodactyl. Item Acquired: Stank Dragon Breath. Item Acquired: Flap Attack Play Pack. Item Acquired: ¡°I¡¯m A Boss¡± Tattoo. Item Acquired: ¡°Boss Beater¡± T-Shirt. The notifications flashed and cleared my screen, and suddenly, I was standing in front of the scoring zone, unimpeded. I pulled the orb out of my rucksack and stepped through the green, shimmering holographic ring. Immediately, the orb disappeared. A series of fireworks popped in the air. The circle flashed green three times and dissolved. Two giant words splashed across my HUD: Orbdown! +100,000 points. New Trophy! First Orbdown. Reward: Framed Boss Battle Memory. Item Acquired: ¡°This Guy Knows How to Score¡± Wall Pennant. Suddenly, my map was empty, devoid of any symbols, though I could still hear ongoing battles in the distance. I peered again at the ISSN feed. Unmute. ¡°Despite unbelievable odds, human contestant, Sam, has defeated his first monster boss and scored his first orbdown! Of course, this comes as a shock to many, as you can see from our fan reactions,¡± Blink narrated. The screen flashed to shots across the multiverse of disgruntled viewers slamming claws and fists down on tables, chucking their snacks, tearing up betting slips. The screen flashed to a live shot of Dom Blady in the middle of his own battle alongside Rod and Jess. He turned to camera. ¡°What do I think about the kid¡¯s first score?¡± He punched an alien-walrus creature in the jaw, knocking it out cold. ¡°Good for him. But, nobody brags when they¡¯re dead. He¡¯ll find out soon enough.¡± The screen flashed back to the ISSN studio, where a slack-jawed Gill, stood at a loss for words. ¡°Uh¡­ Gill, heh¡ªwe¡¯re live, buddy,¡± Blink poked him in the side. ¡°Right, right,¡± he snapped out of it. ¡°I guess congratulations are in order?¡± he said, tearing up his own betting slip. Mute. I took a knee. My adrenaline was subsiding and I suddenly felt even more of the pain stored up from the fight. My neck felt like it had been struck with a baseball bat and my side felt bruised from shoulder to shin. Fortunately, my arm was scabbed over and the bleeding had stopped. ¡°Congratulations on your victory,¡± ERNI said. ¡°To score a single Slayer Down is a statistical rarity and an accomplishment worth celebrating.¡± ¡°Thanks,¡± I grunted, clutching my ribs. ¡°Right about now I¡¯d celebrate it with a chiropractor if I could. How are my stats looking?¡± ERNI flashed them on screen: Rank: 4,397,853 Points: 215,000 Fans: 27,955 Sponsors: 0 ¡°Whoa, okay¡­ Almost 28,000 fans. Not bad.¡± ¡°For comparative reference, Don Blady has approximately 6 trillion fans.¡± ¡°Well, aren¡¯t you just a bundle of sunshine and rainbows.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I don¡¯t understand.¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s just¡­ I understand the need for empirical data and keeping me updated, but every once in a while, you gotta ease up on the hard truths.¡± ¡°Deceit isn¡¯t in my programming.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah, I know you¡¯ve told me. I¡¯m just saying¡­ if a guy has a girl and she asks, ¡®Does this dress make me look fat?¡¯ You don¡¯t tell her the truth. You bend the facts a little, so that you don¡¯t hurt her feelings and get yourself into trouble. Does any of this make sense to you?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Right. Let¡¯s move on.¡± 14 - GHOST DETECTOR ALERT 1st Quarter: 15:13:42 Warriors: 4,288,671 There was no time to celebrate or rest. Unlike American football, I didn¡¯t have the luxury of taking a seat on the sideline and watching the defense go out and take care of business. Slayer Bowl was all about offense. Once you scored, the next job was to score again. ¡°Hey, ERNI¡ª¡° I didn¡¯t get to finish my sentence. A swirling field of purple energy swallowed me whole. I punched and clawed at it, unsure of whether this was an enemy attack. ¡°What the hell is happening?!¡± Teleportation Initiated. Before I knew it, the world around me fell away, dissolving into a blur of space and dimension. The purple shell around me crystallized and hardened as I skyrocketed through star lines and the twisted kaleidoscopic passageway of what looked like a wormhole. I screamed, though no one could hear it but me and ERNI. ERNI: Try to remain calm. Take deep breaths. Your blood pressure is elevated. As is your heart rate, which is currently 168 beats per minute. Yeah. I thought to myself. Maybe that¡¯s because I¡¯ve never teleported before. My insides felt jumbled and shaken, like the contents of a blender being chopped into a frenzy. The purple chamber spun through the astral tunnel, rising and falling, shifting left and right, like some sort of twisted amusement park ride. We did several loop-de-loops, as if we were getting sucked through the inside of a giant cosmic, silly straw. I puked all over the chamber, splashing around in it as we tumbled through the void. The star lines receded, the blur sharpened and the purple chrysalis suddenly stopped in place. The jolt was so sudden, I slammed face-first into its side. I had to peel myself off its interior surface, lips flared and nose flattened, like a kid smooshing their face against a window for comedic effect. Only, I wasn¡¯t laughing. The chamber evaporated, and I found myself on the ground, in a completely new environment. I knelt there, pissed, flinging vomit off my armor. Teleportation Complete. ¡°I should have warned about the disorienting effects of teleportation,¡± ERNI commented. ¡°I will add that note to my database for the future.¡± ¡°Yeah. That would be good,¡± I said, rising to my feet and wiping off my lips. New Objective: Retrieve Orb. I glanced around at the horizon, grey and wet. It looked like the center of an endless marsh. A dense fog lingered in the air. I was standing about a foot deep in a body of murky, stagnant water. Gnarled, twisting trees reached up into the fog canopy. Dense vines hung like curtains, masking whatever horrors lay further off in the bog. ¡°All right, ERNI, where are we?¡± My face shield closed, sealing me in an airtight protective mask. ¡°According to my sensors, we are in a toxic swampland.¡± ¡°Yeah, I can see that. Any idea where?¡± ¡°The trees are beautiful¡­ The trees are beautiful¡­ The trees are beautiful¡­¡± I looked at the gauntlet. ERNI was glitching again. I tapped the screen a few times and it flickered with an error. Faulty Capacitor Detected! Rebooting Interface¡­ A moment later, ERNI blinked, looking up at me. ¡°According to my sensors, we are in a toxic swampland.¡± ¡°Right. Can you pinpoint where?¡± A notification flashed. Location: Pantanal, Mato Grosso do Sul, Brazil. ¡°Great. Always wanted to visit.¡± I had no clue where that was. I goofed off a lot during geography. ¡°Can you automatically display our location the next time I have to take a ride in one of those green thingies?¡± ¡°Certainly. Going forward, I will auto-announce our new location after teleportation cycles. Speaking of which¡­ I also have the location of your next orb.¡± A pulsing white dot appeared on the northwest periphery of my map. It was 10 kilometers away. ¡°A 10 click hike through this crap? Where¡¯s a damn hovercraft loot crate when you need one?¡± The biggest problem was visibility. I couldn¡¯t see more than a few feet in any direction. I double-checked the map to ensure the ghost detector was still enabled. It was, indicated by a slow, sweeping circle overlay. There were no yellow or red dots¡ªso, that was good. ¡°All right. These orbs aren¡¯t going to collect themselves.¡± Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. I took a few steps through the water¡ªif you can call it that. It looked more like a diarrhea milkshake. My footfalls were slimy and soft. Several times, my legs sank up to my knees, and it took a good bit of doing to wrench them free. ¡°There¡¯s got to be a better way to get through this. Any thoughts?¡± ¡°Unfortunately, without a jetpack or a vine-swinging upgrade, this is the best available method for travel in this environment.¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what I was afraid of.¡± I tried to find enough of a solid footing so I could use the leaping abilities of my armor, but that was a colossal failure. A few times I tried it. Rather than springing me forward up into the air, the recoil of my leg boosters drove me deeper into the soft, muddy bed of the marsh floor. Several times I lurched forward, landing face-first, completely submerged in the brownish liquid. It smelled like a dumpster orgy between expired mayo and burnt hair¡ªand I was completely soaked in it. Thick, goopy streaks of swamp water spilled down my face. It reminded me of how drenched in blood Sola and I were back in that department store bathroom. Sola. I wondered where she was and if she was okay. Blady had said she was ¡°safe and sound on his ship.¡± But what the hell did that mean? Was she being held at gunpoint? Was she being threatened by hideous creatures? I hoped not. All I could do to calm my mind was to imagine that maybe, mercifully, she was peacefully asleep and unaware of her surroundings in a cryo-pod. I had to make it to the Slayer Bowl final. I had to get at Dom Blady, and find a way to rescue her. I brushed a clump of mud off the side of my neck, and my hand raked across the necklace and video game charm my mom gave me. I thought about her and all of the things that Slayer Bowl had cost me. All of it, in a single day. My birthday. I picked up my pace, trudging through the mud with a newfound grit and determination. No matter what I faced going forward in this tournament, I was determined to find a way to make Blady pay. And if I could find a way off-world, one day to make Krivlax answer for his crimes as well. ¡°Shit, that hurts!¡± I barked. I looked at my map, which was suddenly sprinkled with dots. I reached inside my armor and clawed at something that was attached to my inner thigh. I pulled it out, a bit of blood seeping between my fingers. I opened my hand and looked at the wriggling, glowing purple creature in my palm. I examined the info box above it. Murk Leech. Level 1. ¡°You little fucker!¡± I chucked the creature away and watched as it landed with a splash back into the soupy water. ¡°Ow!¡± There were more bites beneath my armor. It felt like forks being jabbed into me. I dug beneath several areas of my armor, tearing off three more Murk Leeches. They didn¡¯t go easy, teeth, pulling away strings of skin and flesh. ¡°Ow! Ow! Ow! Oh, fuck this!¡± I stepped onto a fallen log and used the footing to launch myself onto the side of the nearest tree trunk. Hook-like, tarsal claws sprang from my armored hands and feet. They sunk into the damp bark, allowing me to climb with ease. ¡°Oh, hell yeah!¡± I felt like Spider-Man. I felt like busting out a few of his poses, just for the hell of it, but then I remembered that I was still being simulcast across the multiverse. ¡°You know what? Fuck it.¡± ¡°Fuck what?¡± ERNI asked. I reached out a free hand and pressed my middle and ring fingers into my palm, flashing that famous web-slinging pose. I even uttered the sound effects¡ª ¡°Psyeewww! Psyeewww! Psyeewww!¡± ¡ªwhich immediately confused ERNI. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t understand this maneuver. Is it some sort of colloquial or ceremonial gesture?¡± ¡°Uhhh yeah. You could say that.¡± I got back to the business of climbing and scaled my way up into the dense fog. Caution: Toxic Gases Detected. ME: Hey, ERNI, how long can I breathe inside this mask? ERNI: Your armor¡¯s rebreather technology enables up to 60 minutes of unimpeded respiration before needing access to external oxygen in order to reset. ME: Got it. I kept climbing, and the tree trunk kept going. ¡°What the hell is this?¡± I grunted. ¡°A redwood?¡± ¡°I am uncertain of the specific genus and species classification of this tree.¡± I passed by several critters that fled, spooked from my presence. I also encountered a huge coiled snake that wasn¡¯t in the least bit intimidated by my appearance. It arced its head back, preparing to strike. I anchored myself with my left arm and used a pizza cutter with my right to make quick work of it. Its coiled body hung there, writhing as its head tumbled down through the mist, no doubt snapping in the throes of death. I finally breached the fog, hoping to get a bird¡¯s-eye view of my situation¡ªsome way to orient myself in this new terrain. Unfortunately, all I could see was the blanket of mist stretching out in all directions. The sun was barely peeking through a shroud of dark clouds. ¡°Okay, looks like we go instrument-only approach.¡± For years, flight sims had been my favorite type of game. I nerded out learning all of the various radio, radar, and air traffic control systems. Some of the best and most challenging flights I took were rife with bad weather and terrible visibility. And I always found the most difficult landings the most thrilling. Landing a jumbo 747 in zero-visibility, with crosswinds, rain, and fog¡ªrelying completely on my instrument panel¡ª made me feel like a total badass. Though, no one at work thought that when I told them. All Todd had to say was, ¡°Do you ever get laid?¡± I dropped back down onto the marsh floor with a splash. I was thirsty, but cycling through my inventory, I realized I didn¡¯t have any water or sports hydration drinks. If this was an intergalactic sport, then where were the tubs of Gatorade? Where were the water boys? All I had in my playbook to drink was a Can of Hold My Beer Ale. ¡°Screw it.¡± I popped the cap and looked at the info box. Drink this to lower inhibitions by 50%. That couldn¡¯t be a bad thing, slogging through this environment, right? I guzzled it down. And damn, did it taste good. Best beer I¡¯d had in my entire life. I chucked the can and watched it disappear into the fog, hearing a splash a moment later. I felt a subtle buzz coming on and wasn¡¯t mad at it. SHIIING! I drew my pizza cutters and used them like machetes, hacking through dense sheets of crawler vines. I swore a couple of times I heard them hiss in response. But, that might just have been the effects of the beer. ¡°Hey, ERNI¡­ you said you¡¯ve been in what, like thirty something Slayer Bowls, right?¡± ¡°37, to be exact.¡± ¡°Well, you ever lose any of your users? I mean, you know¡­ did they die?¡± He was quiet for a moment, and I knew he didn¡¯t need to think about the answer. It made me wonder if ERNI was capable of actual emotion or at least some synthetic variant of it. ¡°None of my previous users successfully completed the tournament.¡± The words hung there between us for a moment. I was going to ask a follow-up question but knew that I didn¡¯t need to. I already knew the answer. ¡°Are you capable of feeling sadness or happiness?¡± ¡°While I am programmed to understand the physiological and chemical impacts of such impulses, I am unable to actually experience the human equivalent of emotions.¡± ¡°Right, I pretty much figured that. But would you want to?¡± ERNI was quiet again. This time, I truly believed he needed a moment to think of his answer. ¡°Because I am programmed with an innate curiosity, I would respond in the affirmative.¡± Yes. ERNI wanted to know what emotions felt like. The very things that separated humans from AI. Feelings. A soul. A sense of purpose greater than ourselves. An organic connection to the universe, rather than a networked one. ¡°Yeah,¡± I pondered. ¡°well maybe there¡¯s an upgrade for that.¡± ¡°Perhaps so.¡± Our conversation was interrupted by a new notification flashing across my HUD. Ghost Detector Alert! I looked at the map. There were three yellow dots, approaching from separate angles¡ªall headed right towards me. 15 - PIZZA GUY WON’T DIE The Murk Leeches were still biting me, but I couldn¡¯t worry about that for now. The assassins were closing in fast. Three of them, approaching in a triangle formation, with me at the center. I scanned through my playbook and selected: Silent But Deadly Cloaking. Hide from enemy radar for a period of 10 minutes. Melee strikes with armor spines will deliver a fast-acting neurotoxin. Activate. Silent But Deadly Cloaking Activated. A countdown timer for 10 minutes appeared in the top of my HUD. Suddenly, the three yellow dots paused their approach, the triangle no longer closing in on me like a net. It was clear that there was confusion among the assassins, as I must have suddenly disappeared from their radar. I had to move fast and quietly¡ªa challenge in shin-high water. As I circled around the first of the yellow dots, I was reminded of those nature documentaries where the prey suddenly became the predator. I never really fully appreciated insect defense mechanisms until now. Thanks, bugs. I owe you one. The yellow dots were on the move again, this time in a less coordinated fashion. Their visibility was just as compromised as mine, and without me as a blip on their map, they were fumbling around in the dark. I came up behind the first warrior, still draped in stealth camo. His body shimmered; the dead giveaway was the mist diverting around his form and the two hollow leg holes in the water leading down to his feet. I crept up behind him, intending to put him into a rear naked chokehold. That didn¡¯t work out so well. As soon as I reached around his neck, he grabbed my arm and flipped me over his shoulder. I landed with a hard splash in the water. I scrambled back up, and we were wrestling. He shouted to the others in an alien tongue. I heard splashes approaching from the distance as his partners raced to his rescue. I freed my right arm and managed to land a karate chop against his neck. The rigid spines on my armor scraped his flesh. He immediately clutched the wound and stumbled backwards, falling into the water as the toxin deployed. I fully expected a yellow flag to fly in and a refbot to stop the action, but that didn¡¯t happen. Whether they didn¡¯t see it or sense it through the fog, or perhaps because I didn¡¯t use an actual weapon, the refbot didn¡¯t appear. But what did appear were several red dots, one of them indicating a giant alien alligator-looking thing. It reared its head from the water and chomped down on the warrior right at my feet. His scream was immediately swallowed up as the alligator chomped directly over his head and halfway down his torso. It dragged the wriggling warrior away and proceeded to spiral into a death roll. I stumbled away as several other gator-like creatures popped out of the water, looking for their taste. I heard splashes coming up directly behind me and saw the shadow of the second assassin¡¯s digital camouflage approaching. I sidestepped and threw out an arm, clotheslining him. He landed straight on his back in the water. It didn¡¯t take the other two gators long to stop tearing apart the first warrior and move on to this one. He barely had a chance to scream at all. I moved as quickly as my armored legs would let me, barely escaping the snatching jaws of the third monster. I was so focused on fleeing, I didn¡¯t pay attention and ran right into the third assassin. I bounced off his chest, landing on my butt. He de-cloaked, aiming a gun at my drenched, camouflage form. He said something in his alien tongue, and I braced for the shot. Before he could pull the trigger, he clutched his chest. There were several small puncture wounds through his armor. I looked down at the blood dripping off the spines on my armor. He collapsed in the water and was quickly snatched away by one of the bog gators. I climbed a creeper vine and perched on a thick branch as the thrashing continued in the water below. Soon enough, the waters were still again. The red dots moved on, and the yellow dots were no more. ME: That was a little too close. ERNI: I must say¡­ I wasn¡¯t fully convinced of your Ghost Detector prompt, but it appears to have been a wise move in retrospect. ME: Thanks. I stayed up in the tree for a bit, catching my breath. After a little investigation, I realized that I could navigate through the marshlands through a series of interconnected vines and branches above. I was moving fast through the upper canopy, leaping from tree to tree, no longer at risk of the creatures in the murky waters below. ERNI: It appears your orbdown and boss fight is trending on The Wormhole. ME: The what? ERNI: The Wormhole. The multiverse¡¯s inter-dimensional cosmic networking platform. ME: Cosmic networking? You mean like Flitter and Postagram? Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ERNI: Yes, like those. However, the Wormhole has more substantial capabilities, including 3D holographic broadcasts and sensory experiential replays for those who have the proper haptic gear. ME: You¡¯re telling me viewers actually want to feel the pain and the trauma that we¡¯re feeling? ERNI: Not to the extent of paralysis or death. But, pain, in proper doses, is considered a savory, psychoactive compound in the multiverse.¡± ME: Pain is like a drug to them? ERNI: In some circles, yes. And, in such instances, morbid curiosity and addictive tendencies often override logic directives. ME: So I¡¯m becoming a cosmic media star, huh? ERNI: The star-tag, ?PizzaGuyWon¡¯tDie, has been trending ever since your showdown with the Pukeodactyl. The clip of you slicing it in half has already been replayed millions of times. ME: Star-tags? I guess they don¡¯t have hashes on their keyboards. ERNI: If you are referring to physical input devices, I¡¯m afraid those haven¡¯t been used in the multiverse for several millennia. ME: Right. Okay, so with all of this media heat, when are these sponsorships going to start rolling in? ERNI: It typically takes more than one flashy kill for that to happen. I paused our conversation to slash at a cloud of goopy, orange bat-looking things. They were a real pain in the ass because their flight was quick and jerky, without any sort of pattern. I finally knocked the last one down, and a notification flashed. New Trophy: Bat-tastic Basher. Reward: Echo Pulse. Reveal surroundings using echolocation. ME: Sweet. It made total sense for the bats here to have that ability. You couldn¡¯t see crap around here. Echo Pulse Activated. Every 60 seconds, my vision would clear entirely, as if the fog didn¡¯t exist. But, it was short-lived. The effect only lasted for about 10 seconds until the next cycle repeated itself. Still, it allowed me to make quicker work of moving deeper into the heart of the marsh, following the map towards the orb¡¯s location. ME: Have all the Slayer Bowl viewers seen these attempts on my life? ERNI: No. The broadcast feed appears to have been scrambled during those moments. ME: How convenient. It made total sense. If Krivlax was sending goons to kill me¡ªwhich was a direct violation of the rules¡ªhe wouldn¡¯t allow it to be broadcast across his networks. I had to find a way to get evidence out there and show what was really going on. The 10-minute countdown on the Silent but Deadly Cloaking expired, and a notification flashed. Silent But Deadly Cloaking Depleted. Well, it was nice while it lasted. It certainly got me out of that jam. But what was I going to do the next time assassins came along? As I continued to leap through the treetops, I paused as a holographic icon appeared through the fog. It looked like a sports bottle. I descended the nearest tree trunk, slow and cautious, as I worked my way towards the marsh floor. I saw a humanoid alien creature in an ISL sports jumpsuit. He was standing next to what looked like a huge cooler. I stared at the info box above him. ISL Hydration Agent. Level 13. ME: ERNI, can I trust what I¡¯m seeing? Is that like a water boy? ERNI: Yes. ISL Hydration Agents are officially sanctioned. However, a word of caution: some of them choose to sell items that are not on the approved ISL vending list. ME: What kind of items? ERNI: See for yourself. I dropped from the tree trunk and landed with a splash. The Hydration Agent looked at me with all four of his eyes. He spoke in an alien dialect at first, then quickly switched to English once he determined I was unable to understand what he was saying. ¡°Thirsty?¡± he asked. ¡°Hell yeah, I am.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got the finest sports drinks in the galaxy. Pick your poison.¡± He opened the cooler and revealed a sparkling spread full of cold beverages in an array of colorful bottles. I had never seen or heard of any of them. This wasn¡¯t your garden variety of supermarket sports drinks. These were names like Star Spritz, Plasma Quench, and Nebula Fuel, which, according to the label, was perfect for an out-of-this-world performance boost. I wasn¡¯t picky and grabbed the Nebula Fuel. I uncapped the top and was about to drink when the alien stopped me. ¡°Whoa, whoa, whoa there, buddy. That¡¯ll be 50 credits.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right¡­ you¡¯re human. You gotta cough up some money. Currency.¡± ¡°I know what the hell you¡¯re saying. I just don¡¯t have any. Shouldn¡¯t this be free for contestants?¡± He laugh-snorted. ¡°That¡¯s funny. Ain¡¯t nothin¡¯ free.¡± He grabbed the bottle from my hand. ¡°But, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve got something to barter with.¡± ¡°What are you looking for?¡± I asked. ¡°Show me your playbook. I¡¯m always open-minded to upgrades.¡± I did not want to show this thing my playbook. I knew better than that. ¡°Tell you what. How about an ¡®I¡¯m a Boss¡¯ tattoo and a ¡®Boss Beater¡¯ T-shirt?¡± ¡°Not really my cup of tea, you know what I¡¯m saying? I like something with a little more bite.¡± I didn¡¯t want to give him one of my weapons, but I was in desperate need of hydration. ¡°Look, I can give you a toxic fart grenade, but I¡¯m going to want more than this bottle.¡± ¡°Well, if you really want to stay hydrated, I can give you an armor hydro-conversion pack. It enables you to take any liquid and make it drinkable. Though, that doesn¡¯t mean the taste is going to be any good.¡± ¡°Yeah, that sounds fair. Let¡¯s do it.¡± ¡°Well, yeah, one toxic fart grenade ain¡¯t gonna get it done. But two of them, and now you¡¯re talking.¡± I checked my playbook. I only had two toxic fart grenades left. In any other circumstance, I wouldn¡¯t have made the deal, but I was desperate. ¡°Fine.¡± I summoned them from my inventory and handed them over. He gave me the bottle of Nebula Fuel and the armor hydro-conversion pack. I guzzled the whole bottle while he demonstrated how to use the device. ¡°Here you go,¡± he said. ¡°You just slap it right here.¡± He pressed it onto my left chest plate. ¡°When you¡¯re ready to drink, just press this button and sip from the extendable straw. Draws the liquid straight up from your boots.¡± ¡°That sounds absolutely disgusting.¡± ¡°Oh, it is. But it¡¯ll keep you alive.¡± ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, starting to move on. ¡°Hey, before you go.¡± He unzipped his sports top and opened the flap of his jacket. Several gleaming syringes hung from the inside, each containing glowing, multicolored liquids. ¡°Any chance I can interest you in some Aste-Roids?¡± Aste-Roids¡­? Funny. Space steroids. I can honestly say that, normally, I would never consider buying drugs from an alien in a swamp. But in this game, you didn¡¯t know what you would need and when. I made a deal and traded him my old rustic armor for one syringe and a few more bottles of Nebula Fuel. I added them to my inventory and waded further into the fog. 16 - SACK UP SAM Below the toxic fog, I disabled my face shield and allowed my rebreather to snatch up oxygen to replenish the system. According to my map, the orb was only two kilometers away. Unfortunately, this was where the tree line ended. There was nothing but a wide body of brown water ahead. Occasionally, the surface rippled with movement, bubbles rising from below. The map flashed several, intermittent red dots as creatures swam in and out of range. There was no way around it. I was going to have to get in there. Recalling just how savage the Bog Gators were, I wasn¡¯t too enthused with the idea. I used the hydro-conversion pack. It was just as disgusting as I had imagined¡ªsucking ¡®purified¡¯ brown water up from by boot, through my suit of armor and through a straw. It tasted the way I imagined a urinal cake smoothie might. I took a moment instead to check out the Wormhole for the first time. Just like the ISSN feed, ERNI had a direct patch into the Wormhole¡¯s network. I simply thought of the network, and he brought a floating window up into view. The interface was cluttered, riddled with holographic advertisements and overlays. It was pure sensory overload as three-dimensional replays from the tournament and animated memes all competed for my attention in staggering, life-like detail. And I thought our socials sucked. There wasn¡¯t a search window. Like most things in my inventory, it required thought to navigate. Warrior¡­ Sam¡­ Clip¡­ I mentally focused, and, just like typing keywords into a browser, the three words materialized in front of me as innumerable pop-ups appeared. All of them showed various angles of my boss fight with the Pukeodactyl and my orbdown footage. It was the most bizarre thing ever to see yourself in complete, full, three-dimensional form¡ªso real that you could reach out and touch yourself. Okay, that came out wrong. I smiled as ¡®Replay-Me¡¯ ducked and dodged the Pukeodactyl¡¯s attacks, outsmarting it at its own game. Then, there was the coup-de-grace¡ªthat brilliant finishing move¡ªthe uppercut slice. Several of the replay clips had been tweaked and edited. There were alien voiceovers and flashy animation overlays, artificially enhancing the geyser of purple blood that erupted from the sliced creature. Adding X¡¯s to its dead eyes. And unfurling a cartoon-like tongue from its corpse. There were other feeds that showcased my boss battle and had superimposed alien commentators down in the corner, giving play-by-play hot takes on my performance. I shook my head. This was unlike my experience on any of the earthly social media networks. I was never very popular in social circles. Because of my lanky build and geeky interests, I was always ostracized and relegated to the outskirts of coolness. It was only through specific, nerdy interest groups that I was able to find my tribe. We were all a bit different but celebrated the same things. Yet here I was, trending across the multiverse, all because I was able to kill a half-man, half-pterodactyl with an acid reflux problem¡ªin a cool way. ¡°Hey ERNI, any way for me to capitalize on this newfound attention in order to gain fans and sponsors?¡± ¡°You could create your own profile. This would enable viewers to tag you and interact with you directly. It also would open up a new channel for sponsors to contact you.¡± ¡°All right, let¡¯s do it then.¡± ¡°I will need a 3D holographic scan of your face. Fortunately, I took the liberty of making one earlier.¡± ERNI brought up the three-dimensional image. There I was with the black eye and the missing tooth. ¡°Oh, come on! You¡¯ve got to have a better option than that!¡± ¡°I could attempt to retake it. However, I believe that my holographic scanning circuitry has been affected by the marsh water.¡± ¡°Great. You know what? Forget it. Just go with that.¡± ¡°What would you like to name your profile?¡± I thought about it for a minute. In many instances, choosing your social media handle was a consequential decision. I smiled and nodded as a thought came to mind. ¡°SackUpSam.¡± ¡°Sack up?¡± ERNI questioned. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s something my mom always used to say to me. It means man up. Grow a pair. Take control of the situation.¡± ¡°Grow a pair of what?¡± ¡°Testicles, if we¡¯re going to be scientific about it.¡± ¡°For clarification, you do have a pair of testicles, correct?¡± ¡°Yes, ERNI, I have a set of balls. It¡¯s just something you say when somebody seems hesitant in a situation. You want to motivate them to take that next step and overcome their fear.¡± ¡°Very well. SackUpSam it is.¡± Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Big surprise¡ªno one in the multiverse had claimed this username for themselves.¡± I was so used to having an appended number after my username because my handle choices were often a little more complimentary. SamTastic167. SamIAm243. But not this time. There was only one SackUpSam in the multiverse¡ªand that was me. With the Echo Pulse activated, I was able to see through the murky water every 60 seconds. It gave me the added advantage of seeing the Bog Gators before they even got within the circumference of my map. I splashed down and waded my way through the muck. From time to time, I felt the sting of Murk Leeches. I quickly peeled them off and flung them back into the water. I was one kilometer from the orb now. I unmuted the ISSN feed. Blink and Gill were giving an update on how many warriors had fallen. 1.8 million. That¡¯s how many were left out of 6 million. I checked my rank. Even with a drastically reduced field, I was still sitting squarely at the bottom. 4,095,183. But I did have over 100,000 fans now. As I made my way through the water, I saw a floating cottage in the distance to the right. It looked like the sort of thing you would hear about in any frightful, cautionary children¡¯s nursery tale. It was crudely constructed out of mud and sticks¡ªa hut seated perfectly on the water, with no landmass leading to it or away from it. Obviously the home of some bog witch. ¡°Nope,¡± I said to myself as I continued to wade along. An icon appeared in front of its entrance. I could barely make it out, but it looked like a three-dimensional question mark. ¡°ERNI, what does that icon mean?¡± ¡°Question marks are typically indicative of quests.¡± ¡°Quests.¡± I remembered what ERNI had said earlier. One way to earn some of the better perks was by taking side quests. But that came with a word of caution. While pursuing side quests, the game clock would not stop. I checked the play clock. 09:11:23. Nine hours left in the first quarter. And at least I had already scored my mandatory orbdown. Still, seeing the number, I suddenly realized just how physically tired I was. Battling monsters. Slogging through mud. I¡¯d finally gotten a bit of hydration, but I hadn¡¯t eaten. And I was in no way physically prepared for the amount of exertion I was putting out. Maybe the side quest also came with a meal. Maybe there wasn¡¯t a bog witch inside the hut after all. Maybe there was a tree elf wanting to give me a tray of freshly-baked cookies. I understood what ERNI meant now¡ªabout morbid curiosity overriding logic. I veered towards the hut, intent on taking whatever quest it offered. I neared the door and noticed that it was constructed of rough wood slats, held together with vines. The 3D question mark hovered right outside. I reached out and touched it, and the image evaporated. A pop-up window appeared. New Quest: A Swinging Good Time. Swing across 20 consecutive vines. Reward: Unlock the Hut. ¡°That¡¯s it? I don¡¯t have to go and kill some mythical bog dragon? Easy peasy. Yeah, let¡¯s do this.¡± The bottom of the window asked: Accept Quest? Yes. Twenty trees magically appeared, sprouting directly out of the water. They rose up into the fog canopy, each unfurling their own creeper vines. The tree nearest to me featured a glowing vine. It swayed in the breeze as if to say: ¡¯Start Here.¡¯ The trees were organized in a straight line. Piece of cake. I grabbed hold of the first vine and pulled myself up more than halfway. I knew enough from playing retro video games like Atari¡¯s Pitfall and watching Indiana Jones movies that I would lose a little bit of altitude with each swing if I didn¡¯t time them perfectly. The big problem was starting to get a swing going in the first place. I just dangled on the vine like a fishing weight. I held on tightly and kicked my feet back and forth, slowly building up a bit of momentum. I arced back, then forward, swinging like a pendulum. I built up enough speed to launch myself. I released the first vine at the apex of the swing and sailed through the air. I caught the next vine and quickly realized it was covered with thorns. I squealed in pain and immediately released my grip, splashing into the water below. Restart Quest? ¡°Yeah, yeah, restart.¡± What was supposed to be a quick and easy quest, soon became a hellish endeavor. I tore strips off my pink, BADASS GILF undershirt and wrapped them as a protective barrier around my palms. This enabled me to navigate the first several vines. By the time I got to the fourth one, I realized there were also several unhappy insects embedded in the vine leaves. They were none too happy to be disturbed by somebody grinding for extra gear. Several of them stung my fingers. The hit to my health gauge was nominal, but my throbbing, swollen fingers kept losing their grip. Restart Quest? ¡°Yes! Dammit! Restart!¡± The madness continued on a loop. Jumping onto a vine. Building momentum. Swinging. Catching the next one. Pausing to catch my breath. Flipping to the next one. Gritting my teeth and bearing the pain of thorns and stings. Finally, after an hour of exhaustive effort, I made it to the 20th vine. Quest Completed: A Swinging Good Time. Reward: Hut Unlocked. New Trophy! Quest Completer. Reward: Questadelic Play Pack. +5% Upper Body Strength. +5% Stamina. I didn¡¯t care about trophies or rewards or upgrades at the moment. I just wanted something to eat. I splashed my way over to the bog hut. I approached the door and touched it with a few fingertips. It creaked open. ¡°Uh, hello? Anyone in there?¡± There was no reply from the darkness. Sixty seconds later, I was able to see clearly inside. It was a rustic, simplistic hut with a single hand-carved wooden table and chair. But on that table was a spread of food that rivaled any feast I¡¯d ever seen. I raced inside and took it all in. It was the sort of thing you might see at a renaissance festival. There was a giant roasted bird, legs of mutton, roasted potatoes, stew, and tankards of ale. I threw caution to the wind. I didn¡¯t care if the stuff was poisoned or tainted. I devoured it all, tearing at the mutton with my teeth. I guzzled ale, amber liquid splashing down my chin. I grabbed potatoes and bit them like apples. I¡¯m sure it was a sight to behold on the broadcast, but I didn¡¯t care. SackUpSam was hungry, and he was eating. There were stacks of tins with foot pictograms on them. They appeared to be MREs (Meals Ready to Eat). I added them all to my inventory. And there was something else. A chest over in the corner. I walked over and thought, Open, and the lid flipped up. A holographic icon sprouted into the air. It was a group of armored knights, raising their swords in unison. I touched it, and the logo disappeared, replaced with the words: Item Acquired: Team Spirit Upgrade. This upgrade enhances any team member with 50% more awareness and combat effectiveness. Great. I didn¡¯t have a teammate to benefit from it. I stowed it in inventory, figuring it might come in handy at some point. 17 - THE BITE NEVER CAME I couldn¡¯t believe what I was seeing. There were not one, but two orbs, 100 meters out, hovering at the top of a small island in the middle of the marsh. ¡°What¡¯s that all about?¡± I wondered. I surveyed the terrain. The approach would be simple if it wasn¡¯t for the nest of creatures laying out on the embankment. Marsh Wraiths. Level 9. They were spindly and lizard-like. A mad scientist¡¯s combination of a Komodo dragon crossbred with a giant slug. They were gelatinous and slimy but had jagged claws and long, protruding jaws with razor-sharp teeth. They were calm for the time being, laying out for a midday nap. I¡¯m sure they wouldn¡¯t appreciate being disturbed by an orb seeker. ¡°Heh. Excuse me, fellas¡­ don¡¯t mind me¡­ just passing through.¡± Yeah, I doubted that would work. My back was itchy. I chalked it up to the rucksack and my armor chafing my skin. I flipped through my inventory and formulating a plan when a notification popped across my HUD. It was a holographic envelope with a golden seal. It zoomed forward as mini-fireworks animated around it. New Sponsorship Offer! ¡°Whoa, ho, ho!¡± I exclaimed. ¡°Look what we have here!¡± ERNI chirped, ¡°Congratulations on your first sponsorship offer!¡± ¡°Thanks. Well, don¡¯t keep me in suspense! Let¡¯s see what it is!¡± The envelope tore and disappeared as a paper message unfolded in front of me. Even with all of this high-tech communication, I could tell that this was still a form letter. ¡°Hello: Warrior (SackUpSam), Quaxbleeb¡¯s Cosmic Crust has closely followed your adventures and is proud to be first to offer you a corporate sponsorship deal! As purveyors of the galaxy¡¯s finest Quax-Discs (your equivalent of pizza), we would like to provide you with two pieces of Quaxbleeb¡¯s Cosmic Crust branded weaponry.¡± Two holographic objects protruded from the message, rotating in front of me. One looked like a bullwhip, but was yellow. The other was a shield that appeared to be constructed out of pizza boxes. The info boxes revealed further details. Cheese Whip. Attack enemies from a range of 10 feet or nearer. Crust Shield. Repel enemy attacks from close range. Strange weapons, but that wasn¡¯t a first. I nodded, ¡°Okay.¡± The message concluded with¡ª ¡°We wish you much success on your Slayer Bowl run. And don¡¯t forget¡­ for the finest fermented milk protein discs with dead-flesh toppings in the galaxy, choose Quaxbleeb¡¯s Cosmic Crust!!!¡± Ugh. That had to be the grossest description of pizza I had ever heard. Not that it would stop me from eating it. At the bottom of the digital letter, I saw a green button for¡ª ¡°Accept Offer?¡± I mentally clicked it, and the letter and items vanished. Several notifications scrolled at the top of my view. Item Acquired: Quaxbleeb¡¯s Cheese Whip. Item Acquired: Quaxbleeb¡¯s Crust Shield. New Trophy! Dealmaker. Reward: Deal Maker Play Pack. New Trophy! Going Pro. Reward: +20,000 credits. ¡°Sweet. Gettin¡¯ paid from gettin¡¯ paid.¡± My only regret was not earning credits before so I could¡¯ve kept my toxic fart grenades. But you couldn¡¯t win ¡®em all. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s see what these bad boys got.¡± I equipped the Cheese Whip and the Crust Shield. The Cheese Whip was exactly like it sounded. It was a bullwhip, more or less, made out of some sort of rope cheese. I couldn¡¯t imagine it proving effective in battle, but still, this was my first sponsorship deal, and I needed to test it out. I¡¯m sure other sponsor eyes were on me. The Crust Shield was much lighter than I thought it would be. But then again, I guess that made sense. It looked like it was made of cardboard, but it didn¡¯t flex. I figured maybe it was made out of some sort of space-age polymer or had a carbon fiber framework. I advanced towards the island with slow and steady steps. Even with these new weapons, I didn¡¯t want to make any noise in the water and alert the marsh wraiths before I could get the drop on them. As I got closer, I confirmed visually that they were, in fact, asleep. Maybe I wouldn¡¯t have to engage with them at all. I took my first steps out of the water and onto the muddy embankment. I stepped carefully over and in between the snoring creatures, keeping light on my feet. Several times I nearly lost my balance but recovered in enough time to steady myself and not alert the creatures. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. I worked my way up the crest of the hill. One of the creatures in my path decided to roll over in its sleep and tumble down the hill. I leaped quickly to the side, managing to land in an open patch. I watched him roll by and land with a thud against one of his sleeping herd. I fully expected them to snap awake. I stood very still. After a moment, I realized that they were heavy sleepers, and I was still in the clear. I was at the top of the hill now, and the two orbs were mere feet away. I couldn¡¯t believe it was this easy. My back was itching again. ¡°Damn, what is that?¡± I took my rucksack off and set it down. That was better. Something inside must have been poking me. I reached out and grabbed both orbs. Several notifications popped up on my HUD. Objective Complete: Retrieve Orb. New Trophy! Double Orb Retrieval. Reward: Bonus +20,000 points. New Trophy! Just Creeping Through. Reward: Stun Grenades x3. New Trophy! Multi-Orb Star. Reward: Turnover Tracker Play. Orbs in hand, I squatted down and opened my rucksack to stuff them inside. I was startled as two leafy limbs sprung out of the top of the bag, reaching towards me. ¡°What the hell?!¡± I jolted, dropping the orbs. ¡°Oh no!¡± I said as I dove for them. But it was too late. They rolled down the hill, heading straight towards the marsh wraiths like two bowling balls towards pins. I quickly glanced back into the rucksack to see about the leafy arms. They had sprouted from¡­ ¡°Count Basil?¡± As I said his name, a central leaf waved up and down, almost like it was nodding to my salutation. ¡°What the¡ª?¡± RAAOOHRRR! I turned around and looked down the hill. The orbs had woken several marsh wraiths and were tumbling their way through the rest of the herd. The creatures hissed and growled, first looking at the orbs, then peering up to the top of the hill. ¡°Uhhhh¡­ Hi?¡± I waved with a nervous smile. They hissed and howled in reply. Not a good introduction at all. They took off, scrambling straight in my direction. The slimy things were much faster than I had thought. ¡°Aw shit!¡± I slung the rucksack back on, and grabbed the Cheese Whip in my right hand and the Crust Shield in my left. The first of the wraiths got close. I did my best to wield the products and realized just how ¡°cheesy¡± I looked with these branded weapons. I could already imagine the headlines trending on the Wormhole: ¡°Corporate Shill killed in slimy Slayer Bowl attack today. In other news, Quaxbleeb¡¯s Cosmic Crust shares soared on the market.¡± ¡°Back!¡± I yelled, snapping the Cheese Whip at the first wraith. A loud whip crack snapped as the whip made contact with its face. The creature howled, more out of surprise, I think, than any damage. The health bar above it showed barely a nick out of its health gauge. ¡°Uh-huh!¡± I went to whip it again, and this time it caught the Cheese Whip in its mouth and started to gobble it. ¡°What the actual hell? What kind of weapon is this?¡± I let it go, and the monster continued to slurp in the cheese. Its expression changed as it went from enjoying its meal to choking. Other wraiths scrambled up the hill, encircling me, looking confused at their fallen comrade who was now on his back choking to death. One of them leaped right at me. I raised the Crust Shield to deflect it and got knocked square on my ass. The shield crumbled as the wraith sunk its teeth into my right forearm. ¡°FUUUUCK!¡± I drew one of my pizza cutters and bashed it in the eye socket. The creature shrieked, releasing me. I rolled a distance away as blood seeped from the bite wounds. ¡°Those sponsor weapons are absolute garbage! Are they trying to get me killed?!¡± ¡°Lower-tier sponsorships do not offer the same quality as upper-tier,¡± ERNI said. ¡°Yeah, I kind of figured that out!¡± I got to my knees as another wraith leaped my way. I drew my other pizza cutter, which tore into its flesh, spraying black blood. CHOMP! ¡°GAAAH!!¡± I felt searing pain in my left thigh, like scalpels shoved into muscle. Another wraith had clamped its jaw around my quad. I flipped both pizza cutter blades down and used both to alternately stab the fuck out of its face. KOISH! KOISH! KOISH! KOISH! The monster dropped dead. I kneed another one in its gut, deflecting its lunge. It howled as it landed, quickly righting itself, circling back for another attack. ¡°Ahhh, fuck this!¡± Gas Knuckles Armed. I holster the cutters and started to swing on the creatures, my face shield enacted, covering my face from the toxic fumes spewing with each punch. One by one, I decked the creatures, kicking and kneeing them, spraying toxins in their faces. I took several of them out fairly quickly, but not before some of their partners got a few more nips on my arms and legs. Warning: You Are Hurt. Seek Cover Immediately! I was a bloody mess. My vision flashed red. My heartbeat drummed. I squared up with one of the bigger wraiths. This one was more cunning and slow to approach. What I didn¡¯t realize is they had coordinated an attack. His buddy slithered behind my ankles while he leapt into my chest, knocking me over. I landed square on my back. My rucksack flipped open. The wraith ringleader pounced onto my chest, digging his claws into my legs, while trying to bite my face off. I jammed a pizza cutter into his mouth, keeping it open like a tire jack. Another wraith swooped in and I held its jaws open with my hands¡ªits teeth digging into my palms. ¡°AAAAHHHH!¡± I was losing the struggle. These suckers were strong. A third wraith swooped in from the other side, preparing to bite. I was out of hands, out of time, and out of luck. He lunged forward to chomp. I closed my eyes and braced for the pain. But the bite never came. I opened my eyes and saw the second wraith, mouth open, being held at bay by Count Basil¡¯s vine-like arms. ¡°What the¡­? Count Basil?¡± I used the opening¡ªdealing well-placed knees and punches to the lead wraith and to his partner. I leapt on top of each, raining down blows until they were both dead. Finally, the herd was vanquished. I stayed on my knees for a while, heaving for air. Slowly my vision stopped flashing and my heartbeat calmed. Bloodied and sore as I was, my wounds were healing fast. I brought my rucksack back around in front of me and took another look inside. Count Basil was clearly augmented, with two well-defined arms and a cluster of leaves that sort of served as a head. ¡°Count Basil?¡± He waved at me. ¡°Hey. Uh¡­ Thanks¡­ buddy.¡± My mind was scrambling, trying to make sense of it. How had my potted kitchen basil plant suddenly sprung to life and kept me from imminent death? And then I remembered, and the notification flashed on my HUD. Team Spirit Upgrade Activated. Automatically Applied to Teammate: Count Basil. The Team Spirit Upgrade must have granted Count Basil sentience and strength. I started to laugh like a madman, rolling onto my back and staring up at the grim sky. Several other notifications flashed. New Trophy! ¡®Herd¡¯ You Had a Victory. Reward: Herd Master Play Pack. New Trophy! Team Killer Combo. Reward: Critical Assist Play. I laughed so hard that my belly hurt. I struggled back to my feet and slung the rucksack over my back, leaving the flap open to give Count Basil a little room to spread his limbs. I rubbed my sore legs and arms. ¡°Alright, dude. Good looking out.¡± ¡°I am happy for you and your friend,¡± ERNI chirped. ¡°Thanks.¡± I walked down the hill past the marsh wraith corpses and retrieved the orbs. I set them carefully inside the rucksack below Count Basil. He coiled his arms around them for safekeeping. New Objective: Reach Scoring Zone. An indicator for the next scoring zone appeared on my map. I had a ways to go and some time to think. First things first¡ªI needed to figure out what was up with that sponsorship and those faulty weapons. 18 - A PERILOUS SCENARIO 1st Quarter: 03:12:17 Warriors: 3,947,821 It was odd knowing that a herb you planted to use for cooking had become a friend, and now, a crucial teammate in a death match that had destroyed your entire planet. I mean¡ªit definitely was not just another Saturday. Count Basil and I both took a few long pulls from my hydro-conversion straw. ¡°BAAAAUGH!¡± I would never get used to that taste. Count Basil didn¡¯t seem to mind it. Count Basil couldn¡¯t speak, but he quickly learned to communicate via gestures. He¡¯d tap my shoulder to get my attention and shake or nod his leaves to convey his approval or lack thereof. I was honestly surprised at how opinionated the little guy was. Sometimes, when we reached a fork in the road, he would firmly and decisively point in one direction. Even if it looked like the more ominous choice. It was usually at this moment that I would remind him, ¡°Dude, you don¡¯t have eyes. Like, you, literally, can¡¯t see.¡± That didn¡¯t seem to faze him. He was just as confident and emphatic with his pointing. I don¡¯t know¡ªmaybe he was able to sense things that I couldn¡¯t. After all, plants did have a different cell structure. They were able to absorb sunlight and perform photosynthesis. So, who was I to think I was the expert out here? And besides navigation advice, and an extra set of arms, Count Basil provided yet another benefit. My armor rebreather typically had one hour worth of toxin filtration before I needed access to a good supply of oxygen to reset the counter. Count Basil patched into the rebreather system and somehow bumped that number up to three hours. It made sense since converting gases was a plant specialty. And, it wasn¡¯t just me taking notice of Count Basil¡¯s talents. He was already trending on the Wormhole. Our combo kill of the marsh wraiths was one of the hottest videos from the tournament. All sorts of star-tags were trending: ? PlantedTheirAsses ? GoingGreen ? BetterLeafThemAlone ? CountBasilCountMeIn What burned me up was he had more fan pages than I did. In his few hours of sentience, Count Basil had a whole-ass fan club on the Wormhole. Aliens had already created their own garments with his likeness on them. They were even getting laser tattoos of him. Where the hell were the toothless, black-eyed Sam tattoos and T-shirts? Yeah, okay, I¡¯ll admit it. I got a little jealous of my plant. One vendor was already selling plushie dolls of him! How the hell did they get them manufactured so fast? Anyway, there was some other big news from the Wormhole. Apparently, Pynflynn Quaxbleeb, the CEO of Quaxbleeb¡¯s Cosmic Crust got caught in a hot mic moment, telling investors, ¡°When that pesky pizza boy dies with our products, our name shall go viral.¡± The leaked clip had been broadcast trillions of times. He had already held a press conference trying to walk the comments back, saying it was all a joke. ¡°Now, now, everyone¡­ let¡¯s not get upset. It was all a publicity stunt. We never intended any harm for the warrior. You can¡¯t believe everything you read or see on the Wormhole.¡± His statement did little to dispel the unrest. The damage was done. There were enough viewers out there who found amusement in my antics, to cause him real trouble. The trending star-tags said it all. ? BoycottQuaxbleebs ? NotMyQuaxDiscs ? StickinWitDaPizzaCutters ¡°Wow, ERNI. So, this guy really sent me products, hoping I¡¯d get killed, as a sick and twisted way to market his business?¡± ¡°Unfortunately, that appears to be the case.¡± I guess I shouldn¡¯t have been surprised. When I thought back to the way things were marketed on Earth, they often were at the expense of others. I guess in the multiverse, citizens were even more desensitized. What difference did a death make if it raised profits? Oh, wait a minute. Maybe we weren¡¯t so different after all. Following the scoring zone indicator on the map, I made our way out of the slimy thicket of the marsh and into a twisted trail of toxic sand pits. The good news was the scoring zone was only a few kilometers away. The bad news was there was no way around the pits. I took a test step in the sand and immediately my foot sank down to the knee. Count Basil instinctively shot out four vine tendrils, bracing me like a tripod, helping me to regain my footing. The little dude was super handy. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. We improvised a strategy. With my armor¡¯s leaping ability and Count Basil¡¯s ability to brace against the surface of the sand, we launched through the air with large hops. He softened the fall, reaching out ahead of time, bracing against the sand surface, keeping me from sinking and helping me rise back up to the level where I could jump again. It was tiring, but effective. One hop at a time, we made our way across the sand pits. Several times, red dots flashed on my map. Monsters rustled beneath the sand. I could see the silhouettes of strange creatures shifting below, plotting their strikes. A few of them sprung out, barely missing me with snapping jaws. I quickened my pace, not wanting to stick around for any second attempts. I needed to get to the scoring zone, knock off the boss, collect the points, and get to the end of the quarter so I could rest. I was exhausted¡ªrunning on fumes, having been up 30-plus hours. I hadn¡¯t done that since junior college. And though I¡¯m not proud of it, I certainly had pharmaceutical help doing it then. We were about halfway to the scoring zone, preparing to launch again, when a familiar digital yellow flag landed at my feet. A refbot materialized in front of me, blasting that shrill whistle of his. ¡°Penalty!¡± it chirped. ¡°Penalty? What penalty?¡± I argued. ¡°There¡¯s nothing going on here!¡± ¡±Unregistered teammate!¡± ¡°Unregistered? What? You mean Count Basil? My plant?¡± The refbot was indeed pointing at my rucksack and Count Basil. I immediately clutched my bag. ¡°Oh no¡ªyou are not confiscating Count Basil!¡± The ref¡¯s head spun completely around as if glitching. A spark crackled. Moments later, several other refbots materialized next to him, and they held some sort of conference. All I could hear was a series of strange clicks, beeps, and warbles as they hashed out whatever penalty they wanted to dole out. Finally, their conference ended, and the lead refbot looked at me. Even though it didn¡¯t have any way to show emotions, it seemed nervous. ¡°Penalty enforcement: 20,000 credit deduction!¡± ¡°What?!¡± Before I could say anything, the credits disappeared from my inventory and the refbots and their flag vanished. ¡°YOU DIRTY ASSHOLES!¡± I screamed. ¡°What kind of crooked, rigged setup is this? They just go around taxing and robbing people at will? You¡¯d think they¡¯re politicians!¡± ¡°Your complaint is valid,¡± ERNI said. ¡°There has been a huge sentiment of fan displeasure with the refbots for some time now. Several cosmic media campaigns have argued for the necessity of refbot reforms, but the commissioner has ignored them all.¡± ¡°That¡¯s because they¡¯re crooked and do his dirty work!¡± I huffed for a few minutes but took solace in knowing that at least they didn¡¯t confiscate Count Basil. Still, I couldn¡¯t help but wonder what these refbots were doing with their stolen credits. Were they using them to fund robot vacation houses and cyborg side pieces? Maybe, they gave them all over to the Commissioner himself. All I knew was it was already hard enough to be on the lookout for monsters and assassins. And, now, I had to worry about the refbots too. Two hours had passed and we were finally near the scoring zone. The hovering green arrow pointed over a holographic circle that encompassed the biggest toxic sand pit of them all. It looked like an absolute trap. ¡°Hey, ERNI¡­ this look good to you?¡± ¡°It is certainly a perilous scenario. I would proceed with caution.¡± ¡°Yeah, good advice. But, just in case this goes bad, I¡¯ve got something to say to the viewers first.¡± I closed my eyes and thought, Livestream on the Wormhole. A camera interface popped up in my HUD with a blinking red dot in the corner and flashing red letters indicating that I was live. ¡°Hey out there, it¡¯s SackUpSam. Just wanted to thank those of you who are actually rooting for me. There¡¯s some shady stuff going on here. refbots stealing credits. Assassins trying to take me out. But, I don¡¯t think they¡¯re letting you see any of that. And I¡¯m not even sure they¡¯re going to let you see this. But, I¡¯m broadcasting it anyway. And, no matter what, I¡¯ll tell you one thing¡ªthey¡¯re not going to scare me. They¡¯re not going to stop me. I¡¯m in this to win it. I¡¯m ¡®sacking up.¡¯ And¡­ Sola, if you¡¯re watching somewhere, I¡¯m coming for you.¡± I ended the feed. I had no idea if it was going to get scrambled or edited. My only hope was because it was live, they wouldn¡¯t have a chance to intercept it. I approached the scoring zone, and several notifications flashed at the top of my HUD. Objective Completed: Reach Scoring Zone. New Objective: Defeat Boss Monster. An enemy health gauge appeared, long and green. This one was bigger than the Pukeodactyl¡¯s, which meant a tougher boss. I looked around while unmuting the ISSN feed. ¡°It¡¯s that time again!¡± Blink exclaimed. ¡°Our woe-some warrior, SackUpSam, has made his way to his second scoring zone!¡± Gill momentarily paused from stuffing his face with snacks, ¡°Oh good, maybe I can make my money back from that last bet.¡± Mute. I needed to figure out how to get in on that betting action. If everybody was betting against me, the least I could do, was bet on myself and win big. My nerves were on edge¡ªeyes darting around¡ªlooking for any signs of a giant creature. I didn¡¯t see anything. I was fully expecting to hear loud thumping footsteps or to see trees parting in the distance, heralding my destroyer. But, none of that happened. All that did was increase my anxiety. Suddenly, the toxic sand pit shifted. Granules spiraled downward into a central funnel as if the pit was performing one gigantic flush. And from the center hole, a large and fearsome creature rose. The thing was at least fifteen feet tall. At first, it was covered in sand, so I couldn¡¯t make out its details. But as the sand shimmied off, I could see that this literal monstrosity was a complete amalgam of all the materials that the toxic marsh had to offer. It was a giant insect made up of trees and vines and rocks and marsh goop¡ªall smooshed together like some kindergarten art project. But, to the discerning eye, it kind of looked like a giant spider. Worse still, it was covered with the stitched, flayed skins of past warrior opponents. Their still-screaming faces, stared at me like some kind of sick, tapestry skin sweater. An info box appeared above it. Flesh-Spinner. Level 11 Even though these notifications were meant to intimidate and precede my imminent doom, I still had to smile. The puns always got the nerd in me. The Flesh-Spinner reared up on its hind legs and hissed, allowing me to see its frightful fangs. Its cluster of eyes stared down at me like I was a snack. Count Basil reached a leafy arm over my shoulder and shook a ¡®fist¡¯ at the creature. I loved the little guy. Even without any direct way to vocalize his feelings, he still found a way to show his emotions. ¡°You ready, dude?¡± I asked him. He slung a second arm over my other shoulder and flashed a double leafs-up. That was all I needed. It was go time. 19 - THANKS, BLINK AND GILL The Flesh-Spinner and I sized one another up. Count Basil flexed his vines. The monster cocked its head¡ªmangled chelicerae wriggling like wet, broken fingers. Its mouth frothed with acid. Was this asshole smiling? I couldn¡¯t look away from its stolen flesh¡ªthose rotting faces¡ªtwitching as it moved. The gruesome patchwork seemed to weep and moan as the beast shifted. Some of the slackened lips looked like they were trying to mumble words, but no voices came. Instead, black bile spilled out, dribbling down the folds of the stitched tissue. SHIIING! I drew my pizza cutters, their blades whirring to life with a hungry screech. ¡°Let¡¯s go, webhead!¡± PSYEEWW! The creature struck first, blasting a thick wad of webbing at me. The gooey strands netted my arms and torso and Count Basil¡¯s vines. The webbing was putrid and hot, made from ropes of sticky, rotting flesh. I retched at the reek of decay. The creature lunged forward. I did the only thing I could¡ªslamming myself backward into the sand as dripping fangs snapped right where my throat had just been. It missed by fractions of an inch. My heart jackhammered as the creature scampered around for another attack. I brought the whirring blades of my pizza cutters up against the sticky strands. The blades spun through, freeing my arms, covering me and Count Basil in sticky yellow goo. ¡°AAAH!¡± It burned my skin. Probably laced with some kind of acid. I could tell Count Basil was hurting too. He shook the goo from his leaves. I rolled back to my feet, squaring off again with the monster. It arched its back, raised its head, and made a strange, guttural clicking noise. GRICK! GRICK! GRICK! ME: What the hell is it doing, ERNI?! ERNI: I am unsure. Perhaps it has indigestion? It chittered, pulsating spinnerets throbbing like open wounds. A moment later, it ejected six new spiderlings onto the sand. They landed with wet SPLATS, their half-formed bodies squirming before they righted themselves. ME: That ain¡¯t indigestion. Each one was the size of a bulldog, their shiny carapaces splitting open to reveal misshapen jaws lined with rows of gnashing teeth. ¡°What the actual FUCK?!¡± The creature watched with anticipation, as its spawn launched their attack. I barely had time to react before they erupted towards me, skittering in from all directions. I spun on my heels as they surrounded me in a circle formation. Count Basil whipped his vines, trying to keep them back like a lion tamer. One lunged first. I slashed¡ªKOICH!¡ªdisemboweling it mid-air. It collapsed¡ª waxy, yellow guts glopping onto the sand. Another leaped forward and caught the spinning wrath of my blades. Two down. The Flesh-Spinner screeched with anger. The others seemed to learn from their kin¡¯s mistake. They fired fleshy ropes of webbing around my ankles. They circled around me like snow speeders lassoing tow cables around an AT-AT. The webbing cinched tight. They yanked and my balance gave way. I crashed down hard and¡ªCHOMP!¡ª felt the burning sting of fangs puncturing my neck. ¡°AAHHH!¡± It was agony. Blistering venom pumped into my system, and for a split second, my sight blackened at the edges. A rippling heat surged through my veins. My breath came in choking rasps. ME: ERNI, am I dying? ERNI: Fortunately, no. According to a quick blood analysis, this young spider¡¯s venom is not concentrated enough to prove fatal. ME: That¡¯s comforting. Count Basil ripped the creature off me, crushing it with his vines¡ªthough not without losing a freshly sprouted arm to its gnawing jaws. Another spiderling tried to leap for Basil¡¯s stems, but I was faster, unleashing a blade-first uppercut. VSSHH! The pizza cutter whined as it tore up and through the creature¡¯s body. The monster squealed as its fluids speckled my visor. It dropped to the ground and I stomped it with a wet crunch. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Three left. My healing factor worked its magic, forcing the venom from my system. I still felt the raw, burning ache where it had weakened me. I wasn¡¯t fully recovered¡ªbut was well enough to fight. Two of the spiderlings latched onto my armor, clawing and gnashing between the plates. ¡°AAHH!¡± They drew blood, lapping at it with elongated tongues. Count Basil snatched them up and smashed them against one another. I imagined this must be what Doc Ock felt like with his robotic arms. I punched straight through both creatures with my pizza cutters. Rancid, buttery slime spewed onto my chest. I gagged. It smelled like rotten oyster assholes. The final spidering launched a solo attack through the air. I admired the little fucker¡¯s courage, but I was tired of this bullshit. I lunged forward, grabbed its head, and squeezed. Pop. I dropped it on the sand. Dead. Count Basil and I were drenched in yellow goo and black bile. The spiderling corpses oozed at my feet. The flesh-quilted horror that had birthed them convulsed with rage. It unleashed a hellish roar as its trophy faces ¡®puked¡¯ congealed blood and teeth. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s right,¡± I panted, wiping strings of dead tissue from my wounds. ¡°You¡¯re next.¡± I raised a boot and stomped her dead children¡¯s corpses. ¡°So crunchy.¡± I was so busy taunting the creature, I didn¡¯t have time to react to its swing. THUNK! Something hard hit my chest¡ªa jagged, stabbing limb lashing out with enough force to cave in thick steel. I felt my ribs snap as the impact hurled me backward. I was airborne. Then¡ªBOOM! I struck the sand hard. Everything was a blur. My body twitched as a spike of searing pain lanced my torso. I gasped and immediately vomited. Blood. Warning: You Are Hurt. Seek Cover Immediately! My vision pulsed read. My heartbeat pounded. ERNI: Sam¡­ critical¡­ I couldn¡¯t hear ERNI. I couldn¡¯t breathe. Something was crushed inside of me. Count Basil tried to shake me out of it, but I was shellshocked. The monster advanced, likely unsatisfied that I was still moving. I tried to roll away, head swimming from oxygen deprivation. Count Basil dragged me along the ground. SHUNK! I barely escaped as one of the Flesh-Spinner¡¯s razor-fanged legs speared the sand where my skull had just been. It brought another leg down and another¡ªto my right and left¡ªboxing me in, and pinning Count Basil¡¯s vines to the ground. It was toying with us now, like a cat pawing at a wounded mouse. It knew we were injured. Healing wasn¡¯t instant. We needed time. A plan. I fumbled a Stun Grenade and the creature swatted it away. My head still throbbed with my heartbeat¡ªmy eyes pulsing red. The Flesh-Spinner skittered over top of me. Eyeless, dead faces stared down from its stitched-together flesh suit. One of them seemed to be screaming right at me. The creature brought its body down hard, pounding my helmet with its thorax as if trying to drive a nail into wood. SHUNK! SHUNK! SHUNK! Each strike rocked my vision, bringing me closer to darkness. SHUNK! The creature slammed its body down a fourth time, and I jabbed my pizza cutters up through the skin quilt and into its abdomen. The monster shrieked as yellow slime dumped down on me. I was coated in the shit. It smelled like cockroach ball-sweat. The creature released Count Basil¡¯s leaves as it scrambled away. Slowly my heartbeat faded and my vision cleared. I was still fucked up, but managed to get to my feet. I wobbled, unsteady. So did the big-ass spider. We squared off one final time¡ªlike two heavyweights in the last round. ¡°Let¡¯s finish this¡­¡± The monster roared. Count Basil raised his wounded leaves in a ready stance. We advanced on each other. As the monster neared, Count Basil steadied me like a powered exo-suit. He launched me on top of the creatures head. I wasted no time, stabbing each of its eyes with my pizza cutters. KOOSH! KOOSH! KOOSH! KOOSH! Each one popped, spurting black fluid as the monster wailed. I slid off the creature and dodged its blind swings. Count Basil caught one of its legs and held it steady. I jabbed my pizza cutters into its joint. Yellow spray erupted. The whirring blades chewed through sinew and bone, SKLOOSH!, severing it in half. SHUNK! The limb hit the ground, twitching. The Flesh-Spinner screamed. Bile and bone-shards poured from the bloody stump. The creature staggered on its remaining legs. Count Basil snatched another. I sawed through it. SHUNK! The Flesh-Spinner screeched with fury, pitching forward, unable to maintain its balance. It only had its six hind legs now, the front two amputated. The blind creature lashed out with its remaining limbs. Every motion caused a chain reaction across its patchwork flesh. Faces swelled, strained, then ripped, geysering black and yellow fluid. The monster moved with desperation, but I was faster. I circled the monster, slashing the other legs¡ªsawing each off with savage proficiency. VSSHH! VSSHH! The monster collapsed, crippled, wheezing. It squirmed on its abdomen¡ªtwitching, bleeding¡ªunable to maneuver. It wriggled along, snapping its jaws, desperate. I moved back to its front, getting near its head. I leaned in close enough to whisper¡ª ¡°You ain¡¯t lookin too good, bro.¡± The monster hissed, opening its jaws wide and I finally saw its true mouth, hidden below its chelicerae¡ªa yawning, gaping trench filled with teeth made of chipped bones. The monster started to laugh at me¡ª ¡°HUR-HUR-HUR.¡± ¡ªas bits of undigested corpses shifted in the back of its throat. Yellow bile sloshed over them as maggots gnawed their flesh. ¡°You sick fuck.¡± I called up the Slayer Bowl portrait from my inventory and looked at the framed photo. Good ole¡¯ Blink and Gill. SKURRRSH! I shoved it into the creatures¡¯ maw. The monster retched and gurgled, unable to dislodge it. Count Basil rested his wounded vines on my shoulders. We stood there, hurt, dripping with blood and goo, and watched this motherfucker die slowly. It choked and writhed for several agonizing minutes before arching its head one last time. It spasmed¡ªletting out a final muted shriek. Then¡ª THUNK! ¡ªit slumped over. Dead. ¡°Huh. Thanks, Blink and Gill.¡± Count Basil and I watched as the monster and its rotting flesh sank into the sand. Flesh-Spinner Defeated! Objective Completed: Defeat Boss Monster. Flashy Kill Bonus: +50,000 Points. New Trophy! Break a Leg. Reward: +10% More damage with melee weapons. Auto-Looted Flesh Spinner. Item Acquired: Sticky Situation Play. Item Acquired: Web of Destruction Play Pack. I slumped to the ground for a while and waited as my healing kicked in. Slowly, my pain subsided and my wounds closed. Count Basil improved as well. He patted my shoulder with a vine. ¡°Yeah. That shit was disgusting.¡± I swiped sand off my armor and rucksack, then pulled the orbs out of the bag and held them up. They evaporated mid-air as the celebratory animation played out in front of me. Fireworks shot through the air. Double Orbdown! +200,000 points. New Trophy! Double Down Daredevil. Reward: Replacement Slayer Bowl Memories Photo. ¡°Are you fucking kidding me?¡± I had to laugh. There it was¡ªanother picture of me looking like a doofus on the Skybotron with Blink and Gill flashing their cheesy thumbs up. ¡°I just can¡¯t get rid of this thing. Well, at least it came in handy.¡± ¡°Congratulations on a battle well fought,¡± ERNI chirped. ¡°Your skills and strategy are improving.¡± ¡°Eh, I¡¯m getting there.¡± Count Basil gave me a literal pat on the back. ¡°Hey dude, you were a rock star in that fight.¡± I stuck out a fist, and he dapped me up with one of his leaves. I pulled out a bottle of Nebula Fuel and guzzled it, then glanced at the play clock. Thankfully, there were only 37 minutes left in the first quarter. I was dead tired¡­. but, at least I wasn¡¯t dead.