《WARGAMES! (Action, LitRPG, Dark Comedy)》 Prologue: First Contact Dr. Tamara Woo-Smith pressed her thumb against the small ridge of bone on her wrist¡ªa long-healed fracture from a childhood spent leaping off furniture, convinced she could fly. The dull ache kept her grounded, tethered to the present as she waited. She¡¯d spent her entire life dreaming of this moment, though deep down, she¡¯d never believed it would truly come. The door whispered open, slipping soundlessly into the ceiling. A wash of green light filled the room, refracted through the thing that filled the doorway. Tamara straightened, forcing a smile. Under the desk, away from the cameras, her leg went into overdrive, bouncing like it was trying to escape. The seven foot cube of green goo slid forward, leaving a gleaming trail of slime in its wake. It paused before the desk, oozing over the chair set out for it, which was suspended into its body. From within the mass, a floating tablet computer rose to the surface, displaying a yellow emoji face¡ªsmiling, of course. ¡°On behalf of the United Earth.¡± Tamara began, voice as steady as she could manage. ¡°I, Dr. Tamara Woo-Smith, welcome you to our world. Be¡ª¡± ¡°Yes, yes, dear,¡± the cube interrupted, its voice warm and patronizing, like a kindergarten teacher who¡¯d been asked the same question one too many times. ¡°Thank you. So lovely to be here. Quite comfortable, I assure you. Now, let¡¯s get on with it, shall we? Busy schedule¡ªI''ve three more planets to onboard today!¡± The emoji transitioned to a panting red face. "Busy busy!" Tamara blinked. Onboard? ¡°Onboard?¡± she repeated, wrestling the conversation back on track. There were people watching and she had a job to do. ¡°Yes, dear.¡± The emoji now sported rosy cheeks and was bouncing jovially. Its cartoonish eyes flickering about the room taking in the cameras, Tamara''s AI wearables, the hidden sensors that inundated the alien with invisible waves. ¡°I must say, your civilization is more advanced than we expected! Aren¡¯t you a clever bunch?¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± she replied tightly. Recognizing condescension when she heard it. ¡°We usually make contact a few centuries after industrialization. Gives you time to either blow yourselves up, which saves me the trip, or reach a point where you don¡¯t completely panic when you realize you¡¯re just one of millions in the universe.¡± A wagging finger emoji appeared. ¡°But you? All those telescopes! Peeking out into the cosmos, looking for us? Naughty, naughty. Always ask permission before peeking!¡± Winking face. Blushing face. Tamara ignored it. Was it joking with her? ¡°So there are¡­ millions of civilizations out there?¡± The cube seemed distracted, its emoji eyes scanning a satellite image of Iceland¡¯s fjords displayed on the far wall. ¡°Hm? Oh, no, don¡¯t be silly.¡± Cry-laughing emoji. ¡°Only a fraction make it.¡± Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Make it where?¡± ¡°Anywhere, dear. My, you are slow, aren¡¯t you?¡± The cube jiggled and emitted a scent like burning pine needles¡ªa soundless, mocking laugh. Tamara pressed hard against her wrist; the pain helped her focus. ¡°Let me make this simple,¡± the cube continued, adopting the tone of someone talking to a toddler. ¡°Whenever we induct a civilization into the Intersol, we grade them. Unfortunately for you, Earth didn¡¯t make the cut.¡± ¡°What?¡± The emoji face shifted to exaggerated sadness, tears streaming dramatically. ¡°It¡¯s rare, honestly! Only one in ten thousand or so outright fail. You¡¯ve been granted ¡®Protected'' status. Think of it like¡­ living in a zoo! Isn¡¯t that exciting?!¡± ¡°A zoo?¡± Tamara¡¯s voice wavered. ¡°Yes, dear. Protected, isolated, safe from the big, scary universe. In exchange, the Council will harvest 30% of your biomass every sixteen solar years. Automated, of course, so you don¡¯t have to fuss over logistics.¡± The emoji grinned¡ªwide, toothy and fucking horrific. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Biomass, darling. That¡¯s you. And, well, everything else alive on your planet. It¡¯s a hungry universe, you see. But 30% isn¡¯t so bad! Just keep the birth rate up, and you¡¯ll be fine!¡± ¡°What?¡± The cube slid back, releasing the chair it had swallowed with a wet plop. ¡°But¡­ we have world peace,¡± Tamara stammered. ¡°No poverty. No hunger. Crime is nearly nonexistent. Our world is¡­ perfect. How could we fail?¡± The emoji face switched to a dramatic sad face, eyes large and watery. ¡°Oh, you poor thing. Your kindness is¡­ adorable, really. But the universe doesn¡¯t care about peace or empathy. It takes what it wants, and it eats the rest. Honestly dear, being a zoo exhibit is the best you could hope for. You should see what happens to the full participants who lose Wargames!¡± Cry laughing emoji, the scent of burned pine and then a clip of Alderaan being blown up by the Death Star flickered accross the tablet. Tamara¡¯s knuckles whitened as she gripped the desk. ¡°You can¡¯t do this.¡± ¡°Of course we can." It snapped. "But there¡¯s a loophole, if you¡¯re feeling ambitious!¡± The cube jiggled toward the door, leaving a gleaming trail of slime. ¡°Even though you''ve failed, we''ll still take a sample population of your civilisation for the games. After all, its nice to know what you''re eating!" Wide toothy grin, winking face. "Win and you''ll be afforded the same rights as any other victorious civilisation. We¡¯ll skip the biomass harvest, remove the protected status and you can join us as an equal.¡± ¡°What the fuck is Wargames?¡± The cube paused in the doorway, jiggling as though dancing and adopted a sing-song tone. "Welcome to WARGAMES, the ultimate fight, Where planets collide, and titans take flight! Survive the chaos, outsmart the pain, One winner will rise while the rest are slain. Battles, betrayals, and cosmic schemes, Blood-soaked arenas and shattered dreams! Place your bets and watch them fall, In WARGAMES, only legends stand tall!" The jelly snorted as it disappeared through the door. ¡°Good luck!¡± Chapter 1: Struck by Lightning First contact was broadcast in real time directly into the minds of everyone on the planet. But it felt like more than that. For those few minutes I was Dr Tamara Woo-Smith. I felt her confusion, her fury, that aching nub of bone at her wrist. And that snippet of her life somehow seemed more vivid, more real than anything I had ever felt. My parent''s french bulldog was going absolutely ape shit at my feet, bark-gasping and pissing itself and I wondered if it too had experienced the vision. Just a moment later, birds fell from the sky like hail and I knew that it had, that every living creature on our planet had just experienced the same thing. I stood frozen in place as crashes came from all about, the screeching of car tyres, high hopeless screaming. A drone-plane collided into a nearby mountain. I could process none of it, reeling from what I had just seen. What I¡¯d learned. My implants drummed a frantic tattoo within my mind. Alerts pinging, popping and chiming one after another. More warnings than I¡¯d ever seen stacked in bright red font. Blood pressure, heart rate, adrenal hormones, trauma, anxiety. Fuck. Then a tide of calm draped over me as all the right drugs were deployed. An antivirus overlay flickered, covering my field of view, it stuttered, reappeared, then died as writing in an unknown language took its place. Then pain. Like a spike of ice being rammed through my brainstem. For a blessed second, I was both blind and deaf. And in the darkness, I could feel the drugs my implant had sent working to lower my heart rate, and sooth my terror. They proved insufficient to the task. Hearing returned first, that damn dog doing its weird bark-gasp. That was ok, my implant would send me something to deal with it all. Implants were good like that. A moment passed, but still no surge of chemicals came. Vision returned and I staggered as the world spun around me. Reaching to brace against the barbecue, I realised I still had a pair of tongs in hand, an undercooked sausage raised and half turned. It fell to the floor with a splotch, lab-grown pork skittering away from my bare feet to be snaffed up by the dog. ¡°Welcome Allan. Thanks for volunteering to be part of the 100,000. I''m sure you¡¯re going to do just great!¡± The voice spoke through my implants, directly into my mind. It wasn¡¯t the personality I had chosen. Warm and saccharine, I recognised it from the vision of Dr Woo-Smith. I was filled with dread, with rage. I started to shake. The writing that had appeared in my overlay, previously an unknown language was now in my native English and showed a countdown that sat at 27 seconds. A smiley emoji blowing a party whistle spun beside it. Behind me, the flyscreen door to the rear of the house slammed open and Sharon burst onto the patio. Dad was hot on her heels, looking older than I¡¯d ever seen him. She screeched, setting the dog off once more. The damn thing spooked. It ran headlong into the barbecue, once again panic pissing everywhere. Sausages and chops fell all around. The dog scuttled away, its mouth full of the nutritionally balanced lab-meat my family was prescribed to eat. I slipped my flip-flops on, snagged a cold beer from the cooler at my feet, and as I watched the timer tick down to zero, I wished that just once in my life I could have eaten a real steak. ZAP I fell a foot or so to the ground and about thirty degrees off kilter, barely managing to keep my beer from spilling. The damn thing was 0.00%Alc anyway, and that made me irrationally angry. If ever there was a time for a real drink, this was it. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Another ZAP to my left raised all the hair on my body, and caused me to leap aside as an ancient lady in a wheelchair materialised. I recognised her from the mediacasts. The famous poet Jean-Luisa Motaba. Her wheelchair landed poorly and she crashed to her side, head striking the stone floor with the sound of a watermelon being dropped. She lay still. I was pretty sure she was dead. I staggered a step towards her, then stopped. My heart thundered in my chest and roared in my ears as the last of the drugs my implant had sent finally burned away. It was too much; I couldn¡¯t breathe. With a mental gesture, I tried to bring up my emergency menu. I could request medication manually. But instead, a small message appeared, then fuzzed and flickered away. Implant Offline. The world seemed in stop-motion as thousands of people materialised around me in strobing bolts of lightning. I could smell the electrical current in the air. I gasped, hands braced on knees. Where had that come from? Why now? I watched my beer spill and soak into the sand. The lightning strikes stopped and for a few seconds all I could hear was the rush of blood in my ears and the screams of people. Then a fanfare, as though a thousand piece brass outfit played. My HUD lit up with sparkling explosions and confetti as a warm, saccharine voice boomed. ¡°Welcome Humans! Congratulations for being selected for Wargames!¡± Behind her voice, the jingle I¡¯d heard in Dr Woo-Smiths memory started playing and she hummed along for a few bars. ¡°If you are hearing this then you are one of the 100,000 of your species that have been nominated by your ruling body, and randomly selected by us for participation. You 100,000, oh wait, huh, there are only 99,947 of you here. That¡¯s not right.¡± There was some murmuring that I could just barely understand as she conferred with somebody. ¡°What do you mean you brought 100,000? You mean 53 have already died? Seriously? Have the viewers noticed? The game hasn¡¯t even started yet. Wow! That¡¯s going to affect the betting.¡± Lightning once again struck all around, lifting the hair on my arms. I staggered away as two identical men in their late twenties appeared a few feet from me. One in a crisp three piece suit landed and straightened his lapel, the other in tweed and elbow patches pulled a cigarette and lit it. Both wore identical blinding-white smiles and didn¡¯t seem perturbed in the slightest. ¡°There we go! 100,000, like I said! And believe me, you¡¯ll need every one of you if you hope to stand a chance! As a Zoo species, your planet is protected from complete harvesting, but you have limited contestants. Of the 100 civilisations competing in this years Wargames.¡± Again the jingle started playing, barely audible behind her booming voice. ¡°The 99 other civilisations have each sent an average of 80 million contestants! Though if we remove the two hive-type civilisations from the calculation, that number does drop to a much more manageable 6 million. Isn¡¯t that exciting!?¡± The barely contained glee in her voice had the same effect as the lighting, making my hair stand on end. I glanced at the dead poet, only a few feet away and still on her side. I walked to her, and lifted her back onto her wheels. She was so light. I crossed her hands in her lap and closed her eyes, and realised I was shaking, but not with fear, with fury. Jean-Luisa¡¯s words had brought beauty into the lives of so many. It wasn¡¯t right, her dying like this. I realised the voice had continued, but I hadn¡¯t been listening. ¡°With that out of the way. It is my absolute pleasure to announce the theme of this year''s Wargames!¡± The jingle began and I wondered if it would do that every time. A drumroll began and then the sky above lit with fireworks. ¡°War Through the Ages!¡± The fireworks and music were so over the top that I had to close my eyes, but in that fraction of a moment before they closed, the lights illuminated the space in which we, the 100 000 humans had been teleported into. A stadium with seating that rose as high as skyscrapers, the seats packed with spectators. ¡°This years Wargames¡± The jingle began and I saw it was the crowd of spectators singing along, not a recording. ¡°War Through the Ages will be held on a harvested world. In this format, there will be seven rounds, with each round ending once half the contestants have been eradicated. Each round will simulate an era of warfare.¡± The cheers from the crowd grew so loud it drowned out the voice for a moment. ¡°The first round, ¡®Sticks and Stones¡¯ will begin in - 3 - 2 - 1 - And there was a thunderclap that rattled my bones, and I was gone. Chapter 2: Sticks and Stones Break all the Bones Chapter 2: Sticks and Stones Break all the Bones I fell in a crackle of lightning, screaming as I snapped through branches and hurtled towards an alien earth. I struck the ground in a tangle of limbs, but there was almost no pain. A little red bar in my UI that had shown 47 shrank slightly and now showed 45. Music started after a moment, coming from nowhere and everywhere. A tribal drumming, interspersed with abstract hoots and the cries of half recognised animals. I scrambled to my feet looking about. What I had thought had been trees as I fell looked more like grasping fungal colonies, branching towards a sky that was just a little too green. It was swelteringly hot and the fungus filled the air with a scent like spoiled hamburger meat. Suddenly paranoid, I looked about. What had the voice said? That it had plucked us from our homes to fight on some sort of cosmic gameshow? I remembered the glimpse I¡¯d had of the stadium, of those millions packing the stands singing a theme song. It made something in my gut burn like I¡¯d swallowed a coal. Taking a deep breath, I gathered myself, waiting for a surge of medication that would sweep it all away. But it never came, and the anger I felt grew and grew until I absolutely fucking shook with it. A rustle in the undergrowth snapped me out of my spiral and I realised I was standing in the open, like a bloody fool, trapped on a world where my death meant another¡¯s survival. Taking a few steps I picked up one of the thicker branches that my fall had snapped free and gave it an experimental swing. It was wet in my grasp and snapped like it was a rotten carrot. I let it fall to the ground. I thumbed my knuckles, at the scar that ran their length as a memory returned to me. My dad always said I had big emotions. When I was a child of perhaps three or four, and too young for an implant to help regulate my behaviour, I used to have these tantrums. Nobody knew why, and sometimes I broke things. Some kids were just like that, he said, and that¡¯s ok. Without the implant, I wonder if I¡¯d have grown out of them. I wondered whether even now I needed the drugs to keep me stable. Looking around at the alien world, at the too green sky and revolting fungal trees, I decided I really didn¡¯t give a damn. The music dimmed as the voice returned. ¡°Welcome, welcome to Wargames!¡± The background music changed subtly to sound like the jingle. ¡°Wow, Isn¡¯t this just so exciting?! Now I¡¯m sure you¡¯re just itching to get started, but first we have to get some formalities out of the way. You probably have a heap of questions, but let¡¯s be real here, most of you are going to die super fast and watching you stand around listening to a voice in your head is really boring. So here¡¯s how it¡¯s going to work. You¡¯ll learn the basics now, and then if you survive, I¡¯ll give you an update about once per day where you will learn more about this fantastic game. Sound good? Great! Ok, here we go. Pay attention now!¡± As she spoke a list appeared on my hud so I could read along with her words. 1. ¡°You¡¯re on an alien world. Yes really! How exciting is that!? And you¡¯ve been randomly distributed across the surface of its largest, southern continent. 2. You can survive here, despite your disparate biology because of a few little tweaks we made to your genomes when we onboarded you. Don¡¯t think about it too hard, you¡¯re not that smart.¡± I remembered that agonising spike of ice that had momentarily both blinded and deafened me. Little tweaks my arse. 3. ¡°With those tweaks, we¡¯ve also normalised your attributes against a standard baseline. What does that mean I hear you ask? It means that even though some of you are made from living metal, and others evolved on a planet with more than 16 time the gravity than this one, you won¡¯t be totally indestructible against the meat-sack, low gravity civilisations.¡± I had actually been wondering about that, it made me wonder how many times these bastards had done this. How many civilisations? This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. 4. Nobody wants to see you die from boring, mundane causes, so we¡¯ve gameified your health. What does that mean? Trust me you¡¯ll figure it out pretty quick! "And that¡¯s it for now! Survive until tomorrow if you want to learn more!¡± The music returned to its normal volume for a few moments, drums and hoots filling the air and then faded away, leaving me in silence. A flashing icon of my body in the top right of my vision drew my attention. Had it been there before? A haptic buzz tickled my brain as I focused on it and a window appeared. Numbers filled my vision, most of them incomprehensible. I caught headings like STR and AGI but barely glimpsed their contents before something burst from the trees behind me. I half turned at the sound, the menu winking away. It sounded like the whizzing of a small, unbalanced electric motor. I gasped as two lances of pain dug into my shoulder blades, and shook desperately, trying to dislodge whatever the hell was on me. But whatever it was had a firm grip. It bit down on the back of my neck. I screamed. Reaching over my shoulders with both hands I grabbed and I ripped. A pair of antennae, as thick as my thumbs popped free, but the chewing at my neck didn¡¯t slow. I could feel it burrowing through the muscles towards my spine. The body icon in my HUD flashed red and a siren began to wail. The red bar that had shown 45 was mostly gone and now showed 17. I reached over my shoulders again, but only one arm moved. The other just twitched. I was numb, as though I had slept on it. I felt a hard smooth surface beneath my fingertips, a head, and scrabbled for purchase, but failed, and on it chewed. The red bar shrank, 9. Electrical bolts of alternating pain and numbness coursed down the backs of my legs as I back-pedalled, ramming the thing on my back against a tree. We hit with a squelch, the trunk proving to be as soft as the branches. The chewing paused for a moment, so I lurched back again, squeezing the thing between my body and the trunk. Something hissed into my ear. I took two steps and leaped as high as I could into the air, landing flat on my back. The thing screeched as we hit the dirt and a spray of something warm burst upon my back. I shimmied to the side, scraping it free and clambered to my feet, panting, staring at what had assaulted me. It was an insect, roughly a foot long with mantid claws and a sack of what looked like custard as an abdomen. The sack had burst, chunks of yellow painting a starburst about the thing. It smelled absolutely nauseating. A name appeared above it in neon green font. Zen-Chii: Swarm Host Drone. Level 1. Civilisation: Gosporian. It had a red bar too, which was low and ticked down as I watched. No numbers though. The thing, a Swarm Host Drone apparently, twitched and tried to rise. I looked about, wary of more that might be coming. It dragged itself a a few feet towards me, broken wings trailing, that ruptured sack oozing more custardy chunks. It chittered, snapping mandibles at me and after a moment, I realised it was speaking, and I could understand it. ¡°Not like this, no, not like this. Lay down, die for me meatbag, let me taste the fleshhhh.¡± Revulsion filled me, but it was overwhelmed by white hot rage. I realised I¡¯d taken a step towards closer. This thing had attacked me, unprovoked. It reached my feet and snapped at my toes, I moved them out of the way and watched it try again, and again. It didn¡¯t want to survive, just to feed. Something that the great poet Jean-Luisa Motaba, whom I¡¯d seen die not 10 minutes before had written, rose in my mind. She¡¯d said that life required sacrifice, and in that sacrifice lay beauty. Watching this thing as it scrabbled in the dirt I realised how wrong she was. I dropped to my haunches and with my good hand I gripped Zen-Chii the Level 1 Swarm Host Drone by the back of it''s skull. It was slick with gore, but I have big hands and it was a small thing. I lifted and and looked into its fractal eyes. It still twitched and tried to swing those broken mantid arms at me, but it was too weak. This was a mercy. It deserved it. I turned the Gosporian''s face away from mine and stared at my scarred knuckles. Took two steps and brought its face down against a rock that jutted from the dirt. Again and again, I swung. At first, it tried to fight, to bite my scarred knuckles. But soon it was nothing but pulp. I let it fall to the ground with a splatter of yellow and green as all around me fireworks began. Congratulations! You leveled up. You are now level 2! Chapter 3: It Feels So Good! Chapter 3: It Feels So Good! Memories are funny things. So many tiny details paint the picture of a person¡¯s life. Most are naturally forgotten. Others are erased. Guided by the wisdom of the UE, our implants are a powerful tool. They keep us safe, stable and sane. With my implant offline, now replaced by an alien alternative, the truth is clear: the memories weren¡¯t erased¡ªjust buried. ¡ª I stood in shock as confetti and sparkles cascaded all about. A wave of pleasure swept me from head to toe and I watched the scratches on my forearms knit closed. Feeling in my dead arm returned with a wash of pins-and-needles and I clenched my fist a few times experimentally. Good as new. I felt euphoric, powerful, alive as never before and grinned when no rush of drugs was released to dampen the sensation. The frenetic drumming began anew, but this time it was almost drowned out by the roar of voices cheering. ¡°Congratulations on reaching Level 2! Wow! That didn¡¯t take long. You must be some kind of bloodthirsty monster to find and kill a living, sentient being less than a minute from the end of the tutorial speech! Good job! Seriously, there are almost 80 billion of you on here and a little less than 1500 deaths have occurred. And of those, more than half were from falling somewhere unfortunate! Oops!¡± The afterglow of pleasure still tingled in my fingers and toes and I fought to wipe the wide grin from my face. I knew I should feel bad about killing, but damn, it just felt so good. I wondered if it would be this way every time, and realised I was already looking for my next enemy. ¡°For this exceptional achievement, and showing some true go-getter behaviour you receive the following rewards.¡± They appeared in my HUD as she spoke. 1. Access to the Inventory function. 2. Basic Identify Overlays. 3. 3x Red Balls & 3x Blue Balls & 3x Green Balls. 4. The ¡®Hatchling Predator¡¯ Perk. I had no bloody idea what any of that meant, though after a moment, a memory rose to the surface. I¡¯d been 9 years old when the UE had banned video games, a necessary step to improve productivity and unity. Either way, I¡¯d been a freshly implanted youth and hadn¡¯t been capable of caring. I used to play this game, though I couldn¡¯t for the life of me remember its name. In it I¡¯d run around, collecting materials which I would store in an inventory, return to a home base and build. At night, creatures would come to destroy what I had erected. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. I picked up the dead Gosporian by one of its limp forelimbs and with a thought it blinked away. A haptic buzz in my brain and a whoosh of displaced air accompanying its departure. A little suitcase icon now blinked beneath the human body in my HUD and I mentally clicked it. A table of perhaps 24 boxes expanded, but only the first four were populated. The first three each showed a different coloured ball and as I thought of them, they gained a description. Red Ball: Restores 10% HP Blue Ball: Restores 10% MP (Locked) Green Ball: Restores 10% Fatigue The last slot showed the mangled corpse of the Gosporian Drone along with the modifier: ¡®Edible¡¯ which I thought was pretty fucked up. The announcer¡¯s voice seemed content to wait for me, and I realised I could still hear it faintly, humming that damn jingle. I¡¯d thought this was either all prerecorded, or general announcements to large groups, but now I wondered about that. I still needed to figure out what the Hatchling Predator perk meant, but though I searched, I couldn¡¯t make anything else appear, so I closed my menu. For the first time since I¡¯d been whisked away from my planet, nothing happened to me. No pain, no vanishing in a crack of lightning, nothing attacked. I took a deep breath of the hot, rotten hamburger scented air and waited. The drums still thundered and I could hear the humming of the announcer as well as a muted conversation. Hairs rose on my arms. I bent down and pried the custard-yellow coated rock from the dirt, holding it ready in one hand. A tingle of excitement, a memory of that pleasure coursed through me. Let them come. ¡°Well?¡± Asked the announcer. ¡°Are you going to use it? We¡¯re waiting Allan.¡± Her voice was low and breathy and I nearly jumped out of my damn skin. ¡°I don¡¯t know what the hell you¡¯re talking about.¡± A small icon on a bar at the very bottom of my HUD enlarged, wriggled and flashed a few times. I knew what they wanted me to do, but was loath to give them satisfaction. What new horror could they have in store for me? It wriggled some more, and the movement reminded me of the way Gazpacho, my family''s French Bulldog would shake its arse whenever it smelled cheese. I sighed and clicked the button. The music changed, it was heavier, full of rip-roaring guitar. My cousin Fabien and I had found some illegal pre-unification music on a datachip when we were teenagers. The composer¡¯s name had been Mick Gordon and the music he made sounded a lot like this. It had given Fabien a headache, but I¡¯d liked it. Hatchling Predator Perk Activated My vision changed, the colours inverted and bizarre, as though I saw in infra-red. A tiny wire-frame silhouette appeared, flying through the trees in the distance. Tiny green text floated above it. Rahn-Mi: Swarm Host Drone. Level 1. Civilisation: Gosporian. ¡°That¡¯s right viewers, the human has figured it out. What a smarty pants! Amongst a few other things, the Hatchling Predator perk allows the user to detect level 1 participants at a range of 500 feet. What will he do with this? Run and hide? Hunt and harvest? I know which I¡¯d prefer to see!¡± The soaring guitar and frenetic drums reached a fever pitch. And I set off at a run. Chapter 4: Choosing Violence I lunged from behind the soft trunk of a fungal tree and swatted another Gosporian Drone to the dirt. It went down so easy, barely making a sound. In a flash I had it pinned and bashed it over and over with the rock in my hand, almost in time with the beat of the music that still screamed in my ears. The stone split, crumbled, and I was painted in yellow. My fourth victim, and yet the pleasure of a level up still eluded me. I sucked the corpse into my inventory, pried another stone from the dirt and set off running. The forest was lousy with the flying bastards, these Gosporian Drones. They flitted about aimlessly, almost as though they weren¡¯t really sentient, like they lacked some driving command. It made me think of the bees of my home world; they had drones right? Didn¡¯t you need a queen to give directions to the drones? I thumbed at the inch-wide hole my second victim had torn into my forearm, and felt my thumb crunch and bend. I must have broken the damn thing when bludgeoning the drone to death and not even noticed. The next drone was still perhaps 50 feet from me. It flew in lazy circles, so I slowed then stopped. The infra-vision of my Hatchling Predator perk allowed me to see it through the trees that separated us, but it still couldn¡¯t see me. My inventory appeared with a thought and I inspected the Red Ball item again. The injuries I had sustained from killing had accumulated, my HP bar now sitting at about 2/3rds. As much as I wanted to run headlong towards my next victim, I still knew it would be foolish to fight with a broken hand. It was time to see how these healing ball things worked. I mentally clicked the Red Ball icon and an error message appeared. ¡°Nope! No healing while you¡¯re on a rampage! Deactivate the Hatchling Predator perk.¡± The voice was back to its chipper, school teacher persona. Casting a look about to make sure nothing had approached while I was fiddling with my inventory, I deactivated the perk. The drums and guitar faded away, my vision turned back to normal, and I freaked the fuck out. Pain came in a wave as blood streamed from my many wounds, but worse than that was my mind. It was as though all the fear, the horror and anxiety I should have felt over the past half hour of murdering giant sentient bugs hit me in a wave. I dropped to the dirt, cradling my head in my hands and whimpered. What the fuck was happening? Where was my implant to dull the, the¡­ everything? I clicked the Red Ball, that at least should heal my physical wounds and remove much of the physical pain. And screamed as liquid fire flooded my body. Every cut and scrape sizzling closed with the smell of cooked lab-pork, my broken bones twisting and popping back into place. I screamed and screamed, it was too much. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. ¡°Uh oh! Looks like Allan here is learning a valuable lesson!¡± Came the voice in my head, sounding pleased. ¡°Healing from a level up is a reward, healing by other means comes with a punishment.¡± The pain faded just enough for me to regain awareness. The sound of a blender spinning too fast gave me the moments warning I needed and I threw myself aside, just as two forelimbs scythed into the dirt where my face had been. My body still spasmed, I could barely control my arms. The Gosporian Drone withdrew its claws and propelled itself at me. My inventory was still up and I clicked reflexively, a dead drone corpse appearing between us to be impaled by the attacking drone¡¯s strike. The thing ripped its dead comrade apart in a spray of yellow and came at me again. Each strike made a hissing veep veep noise as it cut the air. I screamed and swung my scarred fist in a haymaker to meet it in mid-air, but it was a pathetic strike and the drone simply snatched the offered limb and started eating me, mandibles crunching on my fingers, popping digits free. The pain was unbelievable and I dropped to my knees. I tried to wrest myself free but its barbed arms were around mine and hooked on tight. I swung the thing into a tree, releasing a gout of milky sap from the fungal trunk, but the drone kept chewing, it was up to my damn wrist. I''d kept flowers in my garden; The UE said that tending to nature encouraged mindfulness and deducted part of my salary to ensure I always had plants. In springtime the blooms drew bees and butterflies, and mantids to hunt them. I¡¯d watched one once as it snatched a flying insect from the air and ate the whole damn thing, chewing down a leg before gobbling up the body. My implant had made me impassive to the spectacle; but now, as I watched my forearm disappear into a bugs maw, I wish I had helped the poor thing. Sirens blared, my HP bar was but a sliver, and both blood loss and a crippled icon flashed in my HUD. My arm was gone to the elbow and I was in deep shock, unable to do much but stare. My blood was so bright, so red. All I could hear was the heavy panting of my breath and the clicking of mandibles as I slumped to my side, the strength flowing from me. I wished I could have lived longer, done more, had a family and seen them grow. It all seemed so pointless, what had I done with the 26 years given to me? Where had the time gone? A great CRACK shook me as the Gosporian bit through the thick bone of my humerus, startling me to awareness. In that moment I saw the Hatchling Predator icon in my HUD, blinking red, and without thought, I clicked it. Music began. A roaring guitar riff screamed in my mind, distorted and wild. Drums followed, thundering and uneven like my labouring heart. My eyes opened wide as I realised the thing was almost to my shoulder, it stared back into my eyes, compound lenses sparkling. I saw joy in those glittering dark depths. With a thought my inventory blinked open and I clicked to withdraw the corpse of a Gosporian drone, imagining its forelimb appearing in my fist. It appeared in my grip like a natural dagger, and I rammed the forelimb¡¯s point right into one of the drone''s joyous fucking compound eyes and twisted savagely to scramble whatever was inside its skull. It spasmed once then went still. Clambering to my knees, I stared at it. The drone that had eaten my arm was still clamped onto me, hanging there, the pressure of its bite pinching blood vessels and preventing me from bleeding out. My heart thrashed in my chest in an uneven rhythm. The sense of calm that had momentarily filled me was gone and I was utterly terrified. I¡¯d lost so much blood. This thing was stuck to me. What the fuck could I do? The music roared onwards, and once again it was almost drowned out by cheering. I looked up, hopeful. Would this be enough to level up? But no fireworks began. Instead, as I looked around with the infra-vision of my Hatchling Predator perk active, I saw a shape through the trees, flying right at me. Chapter 5: What Have I Become Chapter 5: What Have I Become? They say it¡¯s all random, but I¡¯m not so sure. Who¡¯s hand really holds the scale that weighs one man¡¯s life against another? Why does my meal prescription designate a life of lab-grown meat, while the guy living on the waterfront, with his fancy suits and 3 child allotment gets the real deal? I was allotted no children, and that still hurts. The least you could do is give me a real fucking steak! ¡ª I stared through the trees at the silhouette of the Drone. It was still a few hundred feet away, but damn did it close the distance fast. It must have heard my screaming. Could I run? Hide? Fuck. I looked about desperately, causing the dead drone that remained clasped to my shoulder to swing like the world''s saddest pi?ata. I might be able to run, but how far? There was a chance I could hide, but who knew what kind of senses these flying bastards had. And what then? I glanced at the icons on my HUD. Bleeding, Crippled. And as I watched, my HP bar ticked a point lower. I wasn¡¯t sure I¡¯d survive deactivating my Predator perk, but I''d have to try if I wanted to heal using a Red Ball. I eyed the onrushing drone. What if I killed it, and in doing so I earned another level up? My toes curled as tingles of remembered pleasure traveled through my body. I knew how fucked up that was, but I still wanted it terribly. The music screamed on, a guitar solo soaring to new heights. I wondered if somehow it knew what I was about to do. My HP bar was down below 10%, so I¡¯d only have one shot at this. If the drone struck me even once I¡¯d be worse than dead. I¡¯d be food. I still had several drone corpses in my inventory, so I brought up my interface and retrieved one. It looked pitiful. Dropping the body to the dirt I knelt and pinned the torso beneath my knee, then I grabbed its serrated forelimb with my remaining hand, and with a surge I ripped it free. As soon as I did a popup appeared in my HUD. Achievement Unlocked: Improvised Weaponry. The announcer lady started yapping, but I tuned her out. I didn¡¯t have time for her bullshit. The limb I had torn free looked remarkably like a crude dagger, but trailed connective tissue and dripped yellow slime. I flicked a glance at the oncoming drone and scrubbed some of the gore free on my trousers. The drone was close, perhaps only a hundred feet away now. I stepped behind the nearest tree, angling myself so I was hidden, but the corpse dangling from my shoulder would still be visible. These things, these Gosporian Drones weren¡¯t thinking right. Maybe that was because they were just dumbasses, maybe it was because they didn¡¯t have a queen to order them about. It didn¡¯t matter; they were running on instinct. Mantids from my world weren¡¯t picky about what they ate. I hoped these Gosporians were similarly omnivorous. I¡¯d be fucked otherwise. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. It burst through the trees, the uneven whirr of its wings audible even above the music. I watched through the tree trunk with my infra-vision, waiting for my moment, and jiggled the dead drone attached to my shoulder. The attacking drone spotted the corpse and, without hesitation, launched itself, limbs outstretched and grasping. It slammed into the drone, tearing the thing free from my shoulder with a jet of blood as I howled in triumph. The drone bore the corpse to the ground, already eating its face. I grinned, took a step, raised my improvised dagger high, then staggered as blood-loss made my head spin. My vision swam, full of dark sections and spots of light. My heart lurched like an engine running on empty. I swung the improvised weapon down with all my strength and it deflected off the smooth carapace of the body segment and stuck into the dirt. I dropped to a knee, head spinning and gasping for breath. Blinking the spots away I expected to see the drone discarding its meal to end my miserable existence, but on it ate, utterly fucking oblivious. I was fading fast, but reached out with the serrated forelimb to rest it against the things narrow neck. Then I took a deep breath and sawed the things head off like I was cutting a loaf of bread. It twitched a few times during the process, but never stopped chewing. I was spent and rolled to my back, looking up into the rotten fungus canopy and too green sky. This time the cheers really did drown out the music entirely. I hated it. Reminded me that those bastards were watching. Please, please, fireworks, please. My vision was fading to black. Let the fireworks light up the darkness. But they didn¡¯t come. And I lay there bleeding the last of my lifeblood into the dirt of a hateful, rotten hamburger smelling world. Still, not bad for a zoo animal. I thought. Took some of the bastards with me. I wasn¡¯t afraid of dying, I realised, and that wasn¡¯t right. These few hours had been some of the most real, most intense and most horrific of my short life. The predator perk was still active, and in that moment I realised how it was affecting my mind. How it made me something I was never meant to be. I had exchanged one implant for another. My whole life had been spent being controlled by others. Told what to do, what to feel, how to live. Obscene. It was fucking obscene. They should all die. The aliens that did this to us, the humans that had done the same even before this all happened. I should kill them all. Should. But won¡¯t. Can¡¯t. Nah, it was curtains for me. I had fallen to my side now, and it felt like I was suspended, floating weightless in a sea of shadow. Except for just one tiny sliver of vision left to me. And it was all I could see. A symbol, glowing hateful red in my HUD. Hatchling Predator. My eyes rolled slowly, the sliver of vision scrolling accross my HUD until I found the inventory icon. I clicked it. What did I have to lose at this point? What was pain compared to death? I slammed down to deactivate Hatchling Predator and then activated Red Ball just a fraction of a moment later. And I burned. Chapter 6: Management Interlude 1: Management Priorita worked in a billion, billion places at once. But while they were uncountable clones, she was the original, the prime. The first cube that she¡¯d ever been and the one that the rest had split from. She was the last of her species. That the rest of her civilisation hadn¡¯t suspected her until it was too late proved just how unworthy they had all been. She had been right to subsume them. A message pinged and her green mass tinted a darker green. She¡¯d told them not to bother her. The audio package suffused into her mass and her voice spoke in her mind as the clone made contact. ¡°Prime, an anomaly has been detected! It¡¯s great!¡± Unable to contain herself, she flashed chartreuse. How exciting! ¡°An anomaly dear? Oh what a treat! Do show me.¡± A visual package arrived through the subether to suffuse into her mass and she watched as one of the protected species from this years WARGAMES fought and killed a winged warrior species with his bare hands. ¡°Oh my! Good on him!¡± She gushed, strobing between the spectrum to settle on celadon. ¡°28 seconds.¡± Her clone replied, even though Priorita had asked no questions. ¡°Pardon?¡± She asked. ¡°28 seconds, Prime! It occurred just 28 seconds after the end of the tutorial announcement. He met the minimum requirements for a perk and, oh my, you¡¯re just going to love this. He received the Hatchling Predator perk at random!¡± ¡°Oh goodness! You¡¯re kidding? No, of course you¡¯re not. This is amazing!¡± She rippled her form and released the scent of satisfaction. ¡°Told you! And that¡¯s not all! I looked a little into their history and it seems that this civilisation has managed to technologically progress far more quickly than almost any other we¡¯ve seen.¡± ¡°Were they the ones who were peeking out into the stars, looking for us?¡± ¡°They were!¡± ¡°How rude, one should always ask before peeking.¡± She filled her cruiser with the scent of humour. ¡°That¡¯s what I said!¡± Said her clone. ¡°You know apparently they also had a primitive version of our wetware implants?¡± ¡°You¡¯re kidding! Wow, that¡¯s rare, what a bunch of go-getters!¡± ¡°Yep!¡± The clone replied. ¡°Our wetware has overridden it, of course, but it seems like the two systems might be, er, interacting. Some of the humans appear to be getting significantly enhanced effects. Watch this!¡± This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Another visual packet arrived and Priorita Prime was treated to the visuals of a human running full pelt through the jungle of the war world, pouring with blood from numerous wounds and bludgeoning members of a warrior species to death, one after another. The scent of satisfaction filled the air, overpowering her earlier waft of humour. More and more visual packets suffused into her being. Humans going wild, tearing a path of carnage through the species that were meant to slaughter them. A dark skinned one leaped from the trees to flatten a Golonite into paste. A pair of human clones sitting on a pile of bodies, ate the dead as they told jokes. She hadn¡¯t known the humans had clones, but a quick search showed her the term, ¡®Identical Twins.¡¯ Not all emerged victorious though, for every human that proved themselves worthy, hundreds went down bleeding, or in pieces. But even those that went down, did so with style! They went down tearing, biting and bludgeoning the warrior civilisations. They fought to their last breath. A flush of amber tinted her form, little spiked ridges appearing. So delicious! ¡°My word! And we¡¯re sure that they were unsuitably docile?¡± ¡°Yes Prime. They were so utterly hopeless that we snatched a sample population of 1000 to make sure! They died practically immediately. Not a single one even fought back!¡± ¡°Goodness me! How pathetic.¡± ¡°Yes Prime, absolutely pathetic!¡± She watched a tiny girl block a spray of spines with a crude shield, then run and ram the shield into the attacking Pinto, impaling it on the spines that were still stuck in the shield. The girl raised her head, mouth open wide. Priorita Prime activated the audio and listened to the girl howl. Delightful! ¡°But dear, these ones certainly are fighting back. So what¡¯s changed?¡± ¡°We¡¯re not sure, Prime. But we think it might have something to do with their primitive implants. One of us is looking into it.¡± Priorita Prime strobed again, her centre narrowing as she jiggled in place, she should split soon. ¡°This is going to affect the betting,¡± she said. ¡°I know! Isn¡¯t it exciting!?¡± Replied her clone. ¡°Some of the member civilisations might not be happy. You haven¡¯t¡­ Tilted the scales at all, have you dear?¡± She asked. A telling silence. ¡°Naughty naughty!¡± She filled the cruiser with the scent of humour again. ¡°Not so much that anyone would notice! I promise!¡± ¡°Well bump it up a notch, dear! These humans are absolutely marvelous! It would be a shame if they were eradicated before the week was out.¡± A pause. ¡°Um, Prime, The Sobutkan Conglomerate placed a hefty wager on them being eradicated within the first week.¡± ¡°Yes dear, I know.¡± ¡°And you want me to¡­?¡± ¡°Yes dear, I do.¡± An audio packet sent from her clone filled Priorita Prime with the sound of giggling. She pulled up her resources and trading dashboard, then snapped the betting summary dashboard beside it and played with some number prediction algorithms. Oh my! One could never be too wealthy! A deep vermilion red bled through her gelatinous form as barbed hooks sprouted all along her midline. ¡°How many members placed bets on the zoo species extinction before the end of the first stage?¡± Asked her Clone. ¡°Practically all of them.¡± Replied Priorita Prime, her voice low and husky. ¡°Oh you are so naughty!¡± ¡°Yes dear, I know.¡± She was back in control now, the red colouring and hooks that had appeared momentarily, now suppressed. If anyone had seen her¡­ Scandalous. ¡°Should I keep them separate from the Tourists? You know one of them nearly bumped into the Hatchling Predator perk holder!?¡± Asked her clone. ¡°Oh my! That would have been a pity! But no, dear. The Tourists pay for precisely this kind of privilege.¡± ¡°Understood, Prime.¡± The visual packets continued to play, one after another. Each showing the apparently docile zoo civilisation going absolutely and deliciously berserk. Killing or being killed in spectacular fashion. ¡°Prime¡­ How long has it been since a zoo species made it out of the first round?¡± Asked her Clone, breaking the silence. ¡°Never!¡± Replied Priorita. She watched a pair of humans that had burrowed beneath a squad of blind Luzian-Singers, they burst out and shattered the reptilians into shards. ¡°But you know what, dear? I have a good feeling!¡± And they traded packets of laughter back and forth. Chapter 7: The Burning Skull Chapter 7: The Burning Skull My first love¡¯s name was Elena. She pushed me down on the playground, then gave me a tulip in apology. Her parents had a house only a few streets away, and for years we were inseparable. When I was twelve, I started sneaking out of my window at night to visit her. When she was sixteen, Elena was allotted to have 3 daughters, while I was not permitted to have children, ever. When they found out, her parents stopped letting us see each other, but I¡¯d still sneak out at night, right up until she moved away. Years later, I was given a work order on the waterfront. I saw a little girl playing in the front yard amongst the flowers, and she was the spitting image of Elena. It hurt so bad that my implant drugged me into oblivion and I awoke at home two days later. I started driving past that house at every opportunity, and thinking back, I guess that was the start of it all. I used the last of my Red Balls to regrow my severed arm, and even then it was a raw, wretched thing that seemed to sizzle with lingering fire. I reactivated Hatching Predator as soon as I could, retreating into the numb rage that it brought, and propped myself against the trunk of a tree, its thick milky sap dripping down over my shoulders. As I looked about my hateful new world with infra-vision, the rational part of my mind dreaded that my screams would have attracted more of those Gosporian bug things, while the part ruled by my predator perk dreamed of them coming in droves. A few drones flittered about at the edge of my vision, but they were far in the distance and moved aimlessly. For a second, I thought I spotted something else, something hulking and serpentine, but it was gone before I could be sure. I needed to turn off the damn perk; every second that it screamed into my skull I could feel myself changing just a little more. Becoming just a little worse. Staring at the glowing red icon, I noticed something. The image was of a horned skull, set aflame, and that reminded me of a painting I¡¯d seen long ago. When I was a child of 5 or so, the UE released a memo stating that children should play with their elders, that it would temper their youthful spirits. A week later, my parents started taking me to grandma¡¯s house to play. She had this beautiful pre-peace house, perhaps 150 years old that sprawled every which way and had been renovated a dozen times. I spent a blissful summer exploring it, delighting in discovering the house¡¯s many secrets, until one day I¡¯d inadvertently discovered one of my grandma¡¯s secrets too. Hidden behind a bookshelf beneath the stairs, I¡¯d found her tiny secret shrine, though I hadn¡¯t known what it was at the time. Just a golden crucifix set on a purple velvet cloth and behind it, a painting of a golden haired man with a halo, warding back a red skinned man with horns. I remember being so damn excited. My hands shook as I grabbed the crucifix and ran into the parlour to show everyone the treasure I had unearthed. I¡¯ll never forget the looks on their faces. It was the last time we ever saw grandma. I stared at the predator icon and wondered whether an identical horned skull would be found beneath the skin of that man in Grandma¡¯s painting. And all these years later, I wondered whether her death had been my fault. I hadn¡¯t known her long, just a season, but I¡¯d loved her fiercely. She taught me to swear when my parents couldn''t hear us, she¡¯d slipped me candy made from real sugar while my parents were in the garden letting Gazpacho take a shit. The UE punished her for believing in something they didn¡¯t. What was so damn dangerous about that? With the guitar screaming in my ears, it was hard to feel anything, but there was something there, beneath the artificial rage pumping through me. Something that had eluded me since I was a child with those big emotions. I held a mental finger over the predator icon, poised to deactivate it, but my mind trembled and I found that I couldn¡¯t do it. The agony of my many wounds and the unrelenting terror of being in this new world remained, and I couldn¡¯t make myself face it. Yeah, this perk was going to be a problem. Time slipped by. I don¡¯t know how long I sat there, half glued to the tree, taking deep breaths while my mind raced. Wondering what the fuck I should do? What could I do? Eventually exhaustion and the dump of adrenaline claimed me and I drifted away and fell asleep. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. My dreams were a maelstrom of blood, terror and rage, accompanied by electric guitar. I jolted awake with the same guitar riff screaming in my ears and leaped to my feet. Chunks of the fungal tree ripped free of the trunk where the sap had bound us together. How long had I slept? I staggered a few steps, arms raised to meet the attackers that I expected would be coming from all sides. My infra-vision was still active, but it took a second for my waking mind to process what it showed. Distant silhouettes, nothing close. Nothing had come for me. I felt ill, but breathed a sigh of relief, so stupid, to sleep now after all I had suffered to survive. I couldn¡¯t stay here. My arm was still red raw and withered. Flexing my wrist, I curled my fingers into a fist, and the scar on my knuckles stood out in a white line. The tissue was tight, like a fat sausage on the grill, ready to split at the slightest knick. I¡¯d have to protect it, but my clothes were shredded to little more than rags. The corpses of three drones lay a few feet away along with my improvised dagger and that gave me an idea. Using my dagger, I slit around the edges of a Gosporian¡¯s middle carapace segment and peeled the plate free with a wet pop. It was a single, domed piece of chitin, flared at the edge and a little larger than my hand. I repeated the process with the other corpses, then stabbed a hole into the nearest tree with my improvised dagger. Thick milky-white sap dribbled from the hole and I caught it in the concave backside of the plate. Then I stuck them to my arm, one after another to form crude armour plating. A popup appeared in my HUD. Achievement Unlocked: Improvised Armour It zipped away into a flashing little folder icon beneath my inventory as the announcer lady started talking. She sounded a little waspish and I wondered if it was because I had ignored her before. ¡°Congratulations on your third achievement! Wait, what? Third I hear you ask? Yes dear, third. But you missed the second one because you were too busy screaming and bleeding all over the place. You really ought to pay more attention to what I say, some of this is super important.¡± I opened the blinking folder and two achievements appeared. Improvised Weaponry: +7% damage with all melee weapons. Improvised Armour: +7% protection from all armour. New details have been added to your character screen. Opening my character screen, I checked its contents, but could make neither heads nor tails of all the numbers. I¡¯ve always been more of a hands on kinda guy, so I closed it. I¡¯d figure it out later, when I wasn¡¯t in a rot stinking fungal forrest, swarming with bugs that wanted to eat me. My predator perk had driven me to run headlong at the nearest enemy and that had been a bad idea. I¡¯d learned my lesson, and knew I needed information. I needed to know where the hell I was. I eyed one of the thicker trees and set to climbing it. This world seemed to have lower gravity than Earth, so I was able to make a superhuman leap. I made it up a few feet, jabbed my dagger into the trunk to arrest my fall and found new footing on another branch, then leaped again. I was at the top in no time. The forest was in a valley between two mountains. A green and yellow sea stretched to the horizon at one end, while at the other there looked to be a desert, but it was hard to tell. I was at the foot of one of the mountains and figured I could find shelter there, so I jabbed the tip of my dagger into the tree and let myself descend. The dagger slowed my fall, unzipping the tree in the process. I managed to avoid most of the drones that infested the valley, but even so, the journey to the mountain took the rest of the day. When I couldn¡¯t avoid the drones, my kills were brutal and efficient. But ever more frequently I came across dead ones, their bodies crushed to pulp or exploded into chunks, and that concerned me. By the time I reached the foothills, the sun¡ªor whatever star burned in that putrid green sky¡ªhung heavy and low on the horizon. I¡¯d lost count of how many drones I¡¯d killed. Each encounter just a blur of shrieking guitar and custard yellow goo, leaving me with no real sense of triumph, just the dull certainty that I could keep going. At the mountain¡¯s base, I found a rocky outcrop that offered some cover. I crouched there, gasping, my raw regrown arm slick with sweat and sap, the carapace stuck to it humming with heat. The wind shifted, lifting the hamburger reek away just long enough for me to catch my breath. Something else lingered on the breeze, though, like burning metal and ozone. A memory of earlier in the day flickered through my mind. That hulking shape I¡¯d seen for a second, bipedal and massive. Had it been real, or a trick of my fatigued eyes? Staring up the mountainside, I flexed the taut flesh of my fingers, took a deep breath and turned off my Predator perk. For just a heartbeat, awareness broke through and I was myself, but pain rose in a wave and I hammered the button to turn it back on. I stared at that horned skull, bathed in flames. What was it doing to me? The image made me think of that painting again, of Grandma. Of the golden cross and God she¡¯d cherished in secret. Had the EU''s surveillance known the moment I had found it? Or had my parents informed on her of the violation? I could still remember the look in my father¡¯s eyes when I brought that crucifix into the room, he¡¯d looked so sad. But my mother, she¡¯d been furious. Dad always said I took after her. I guess it didn¡¯t matter now, it was all in the past. So why did it still hurt so bad? The pain so deep, so vital that I could feel it through the Predator perk? A low rumble overhead snapped my attention upward. Thunder or some alien craft? I couldn¡¯t tell. Either way, a storm was coming. A chill crept down my spine, faint beneath my predator perk¡¯s fury. The music rose in my ears, drowning out the doubts. I gripped my dagger. Whatever was coming, I¡¯d meet it on my own terms¡ªone more kill at a time. I peeled myself from the rocks and pressed on, up into the gathering shadows. My mind drifted between fear and fury, but the choice was simple enough: I''d fight or die. That would have to be enough. And once again I made the promise to myself. They¡¯d pay for what had been done to me. All of them. Chapter 8: The Drop Chapter 8: The Drop From the deck of the riverboat, her gaze caught mine. She stumbled and nearly tumbled overboard. I cursed, pulled my cap lower and jammed my truck into reverse, but the damage was done. I''d never meant for her to see me, for her to know that even after all this time I still loved her. I found out later that she¡¯d looked for me too, that they¡¯d told her I died. I wonder what else they lied about. ¡ª I awoke just before sunrise, to the sound of thousands of Gosporians flying up into the sky. They hung there, hundreds of feet above the canopy for what felt like an eternity. I held my breath and waited to see what they would do. The sun peeked above the horizon and began its climb, lighting them in lurid tones. But still, they didn¡¯t react. It was beautiful. I nearly shat myself as a voice spoke in my head. ¡°Good morning survivors! And welcome to day two. You¡¯ve all done deliciously well to make it through the first day! Now, I promised you all some more information if you made it this far, and I will! But first I have some stats for you!¡± A few empty boxes appeared in my HUD, populating with numbers as she spoke. ¡°Of the 79 billion, 880 thousand, 291 contestants in this iteration of WARGAMES!-¡± At the mention of the name, the damn jingle started playing again. I¡¯d almost forgotten how it did that. ¡°Almost 20 billion of you have already died. Goodness gracious that is a staggeringly impressive number! And includes the eradication of an entire civilisation - The Whyppits. It turns out that due to a quirk of their morphology, by converting them to respire oxygen we also caused their vents to ignite, and them to spontaneously combust! Oopsie! That one¡¯s on us folks!¡± The casual nature with which she spoke of the eradication of an entire civilisation rocked me. Their deaths here meant the harvesting of their entire planet. I remembered spotting a few plumes of smoke rising from the forest canopy the previous day and wondered if that had been these poor bastards dying. ¡°Now! With that out of the way here¡¯s some more information on this stage of WARGAMES!¡± The jingle played and she hummed along for a moment. ¡°Sticks and Stones has been designed to simulate the primitive era of your Civilisation. Before cities, towns and all of your modern conveniences. Back when you lived in tribes and weren¡¯t the only variant of your species walking the world!¡± I remembered learning about our human ancestors in school. Of Homo Erectus and Heidelbergensis. The hobbit-like Florensis and the hulking Neanderthals. We co-existed with them for a time and then eradicated them all as we rose to rule our planet. ¡°And just like in that time, you will form small tribes and fight each other for scarce resources. Though what is considered a tribal group will depend on your species. See your HUD menu for details.¡± ¡°Technology on this stage will also be limited to what you could cobble together from the natural world. Think about the kind of tools your civilisation might have used during its Stone Age. In other words, enjoy ripping each other apart with your bare hands or if you¡¯re feeling adventurous, try bashing someone¡¯s brains out with a rock! Wow just saying that gives me the chills, so visceral! How fantastic!¡± I eyed my improvised dagger and armour. The skin beneath the chitinous plates I¡¯d glued to my arm tingled and twitched, as though the fungal sap I¡¯d used as adhesive was growing. My hand and fingers had bulging black veins running beneath the skin, which was freaky, but at least my skin no longer felt raw and ready to split. In fact, now that I really looked at myself I realised that my injuries seemed to have all healed, and when I checked the red bar in my HUD, it was full. ¡°Now I mentioned before that we had gamified your health. Some of you have already figured out what that means, but for those slow-pokes and level-1-pacifists, here is a quick summary.¡± The text appeared in my HUD. 1. Your HP is represented visually and numerically via an HP bar, that¡¯s the red one on your interface. Once it¡¯s gone, that¡¯s it, you¡¯re dead! 2. You¡¯re here to fight for your lives, not to spend weeks recovering from a broken bone, cracked shell or dying from an infected scratch, so you will heal from most injuries over the course of a day or two. We have also included a number of accelerated methods of healing, but you¡¯ll have to figure those out for yourself! ¡°Sounds exciting, right?! Like you can wade into glorious battle and not worry about the consequences? Well watch out you bloodthirsty little go-getter, you! Serious injuries, or injuries that we designate as being iconic will not be recovered from naturally, or in some cases, at all!¡± If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. I eyed the bulging black veins running through my hand again and tried to pry one of the plates free, but hard as I tried, the adhesive had fused it to my skin. It made me think. If the show runners had screwed up the Whyppits integration badly enough that they exploded or whatever, could they have done the same with my human biology and the native fungus? ¡°One last thing from me! As a reward for surviving the first day, and to encourage the progression of the game, loot caches will now be unlocked. What are those? I hear you ask. Thanks for asking! Loot caches are hidden areas that contain a random selection of technological era appropriate tools and weapons! Finding one will significantly improve your odds of survival- and will be SO much fun too!¡± I was bathed in golden light as a beacon blasted down from the sky a mere few hundred yards away. I scrabbled for cover, slamming on my Predator perk so I could see about me with infra-vision. When had I turned it off? It must have been during the night as I healed. The guitar started. ¡°Look out for beacons! Different colours mean different types of loot, and the cache will be located within the radius of its light. So long as even one item remains in the cache, the light will remain on.¡± From my vantage point on the side of the mountain, I looked out towards the sea. I wondered what the chances were of a cache being located so close to me. There were less than two dozen in the entire valley. Reds, Greens, Blues but no other Gold. Good luck, or something else? It didn¡¯t matter. I could still remember the sensation of my arm being eaten and would do anything to avoid that again. I rose to my feet and stretched, neck popping and set off at a run towards the beacon. I eyed the flaming skull icon and considered turning it off, but didn¡¯t; it was time for action. ¡°That¡¯s all from me, survivors! Welcome to day 2 of WARGAMES!¡± The electric guitar changed to a heavy metal version of the theme-song as I ran down the mountain, making superhuman leaps in the reduced gravity. My eyes darted about, seeking enemies. Thousands of drones remained suspended in the sky and I wondered what the hell their deal was. I thought they might be letting out a rhythmic thrumming, but couldn¡¯t be sure. So long as they remained up there, there was fuck all I could do about it, so I put them from my mind. I entered range of the golden beacon, raising a hand to shade my eyes from the torrent of light. It encompassed an area of broken low mountain and sparse forest about the same size as an AFL football oval. Several huge rocks rose in a ring from the mountainside and I aimed for them, there was no way that was natural. Two small figures tumbled from the tree-line to my right, they were stabbing a third with their tails. Another figure, much larger than any other came from the left, slithering through the boulders that dotted the slopes. I hesitated for a second, made my decision and put on a greater burst of speed. I''d reach the standing stones while they were still hundreds of yards away. If they caught me, I¡¯d have the superior weaponry. In the centre of the ring of standing stones was what looked like a jade sarcophagus made for a giant. Faintly translucent, its greenstone lid glowed and was carved in runic designs. As I stepped within the the ring, the guitar riff changed, becoming something reminiscent of the latin-americas. I darted a look about, but couldn¡¯t see any silhouettes through the stones. If I remembered the infra-vision description correctly, that meant the aliens had to still be more than 500 feet away. The sarcophagus had handles on either side of the lid, so I grabbed one and pushed. It slid slowly, grinding an inch at a time no matter how hard I tried. I sweated, my neck itched; I felt so damn vulnerable. As soon as there was space enough, I stuck an arm in to loot whatever I could. Error: Unlock Cache Fully to Access Loot. Fuck fuck fuck. I grabbed the handle and started pushing again. Neck craning to spot silhouettes through the stone. Still nothing. Had they stopped to fight? Inch by bloody inch the lid slid, until with a crash and plume of dust it toppled off the far side. I leaned in and started grabbing, storing whatever I touched into my inventory as the presenter lady started yapping again. A flicker of movement and something was flying at me. I realised my mistake in the instant the description appeared. Benny: Uzbeki. Level: 2 Civilisation: Uzbeki My infra-vision only highlighted Level 1 enemies. The creature flew at me like a witch riding a broom, except that instead of a broom this thing rode its long bone tipped tail clasped between six legs, pointed at me like a spear. I let myself tumble fully into the sarcophagus and the thing missed overhead by inches to strike one of the standing stones. It whooped like a fucking maniac, as though it was having the time of its life. Stone chipped free from where its tail had impacted, and the fuzzy critter scuttled high up the rock face to reposition for another dive. Its face was bizarrely cute, almost like the little Quokkas that were native to my homeland. I remembered that there had been two of the little bastards at the tree line and turned just in time to avoid being impaled by its fellow. The hairy little thing rode its tail into the bed of the sarcophagus with a WOOOOOO and spun to face me. I booted it right in the fucking skull. Its adorable little head snapping back, electric blue teeth flying free as it crumpled. I ducked on instinct, feeling wind in my hair as the one behind missed me, once again cheering like a madman. I readied my dagger. These things weren¡¯t so tough. I could take it. It glided towards another standing stone, obviously planing another dive at me, but was impaled in mid-air by a bone spur protruding from the tip of a tentacle. I watched, horrified as a creature straight from nightmare slithered between two stones. I¡¯d seen a lot of wild shit in these past two days, but seeing that thing open its mouth like a flower and slurp down the little furred Uzbeki rated pretty damn high on my what-the-fuck-o-meter. I looked at the dagger in my hand, and zapped it away into my inventory. It would be no help in this fight. The nightmare¡¯s throat bulged and worked a few times, forcing its meal down while emitting a deep, chittering moan. I took the chance to inspect what else was in the sarcophagus. I¡¯d barely scraped the surface. The presenter was still yapping, and she sounded pissed, as though she knew I wasn¡¯t paying attention. A long hafted axe that looked as though it was made from a single piece of obsidian lay a few feet away and I snatched it up, strength surging through me as I hefted it in two hands and turned to face my enemy. The nightmare alien forced down the last of the Uzbeki and let out a high peeping screech that almost blew out my damn eardrums. Gabe: ???. Level: ? Tourist I stored the axe and fucking ran. Chapter 9: Barely Human Chapter 9: Barely Human I ran and didn¡¯t look back. Even with the predator perk doping my hormones and the music screaming in my ears, I knew that if I turned to face Gabe, I¡¯d be fucked. A harpoon-tipped tentacle jetted past my head, nearly taking my damn ear off. It twisted and tried to wrap around my head, sticky mucus globbing into my hair, but I was too fast and dropped to slide through two standing stones. A tear of hair and scalp, a dim bolt of pain, blood pouring down my shoulder and I was out of the ring of stones and sprinting for the tree-line, still hundreds of yards distant. Another earsplitting screech came from right behind me, inspiring me to bloody leap my way down the mountain rather than run. In the lowered gravity, I was pretty sure my body could take it, and now I covered yards at a time. Ahead a pack of those Uzbeki things scurried from the trees. They hesitated when they saw me. I assumed they saw what was chasing me too, but couldn¡¯t risk a glance back. A few chirrups from the large one at the head of the pack and the group scattered, climbing the trees and preparing to dive. I angled my trajectory slightly to avoid them, but a crash from behind changed my mind, the thing was right on my fucking tail. An idea struck me. I ran right at the pack of Uzbeki, they let out whoops of excitement as I approached and launched themselves from above, riding their tails like spears. I ducked and slid as they fell, jabbing into the dirt all about, missing me by inches. Two collided mid-air, impaling each other, and then I was past. Cheering morphed into horrified squeals a moment later and I risked a glance back. The little buggers screamed like Gazpacho when we clipped his nails. The nightmare had a half dozen of them held aloft, impaled on a multitude of harpoon tentacles that sprouted from where a man¡¯s arms would be. It stuffed one into its flower petal mouth, needle teeth forcing it down, while the others were attached to its shoulders somehow, like a grotesque, furred collar. The remaining Uzbeki scattered; I guess they were intelligent after all. I made it into the trees, zig zagging between fungal trunks and leaping over spiked sporish growths as large as my fist. I wasn¡¯t sure whether that thing, Gabe, would pursue the Uzbeki pack, or continue after me. But sure as shit I wasn¡¯t going to hang around to find out. I hadn¡¯t seen a single alien highlighted by my infra-vision all day, nor could I see anything outlined through the trees. With the swarm of mindless Gosporian Drones out of the way, still high above the tree canopy, I wondered if any other creatures had made it through the first day without killing and levelling up. The thought made me uneasy, and my eyes darted about as I ran, expecting to see enemies behind every tree. I hadn¡¯t realised how much I had relied on seeing my enemies coming. I ran for what felt like hours, but had to only be minutes. I could still hear crashing and the occasional screech from behind, but couldn¡¯t tell how far the nightmare was, or whether it still pursued me. A crash came from my left so I swerved and angled away, but then I heard a scream. I stumbled and nearly fell. Had it been human? Thus far it had just been me and the monsters, and though I had seen the hundred thousand filling that stadium with me, I¡¯d felt like I was alone on this planet. The scream came again, young, feminine and laden with fear. I skidded to a halt. My predator perk told me not care, but I¡¯d truly be damned if I left a kid to the nightmares of this world. Hell, I¡¯d barely be human. I flicked open my inventory and the obsidian war axe appeared in my grip. Once again my body surged with power, like I was un-fucking-stoppable. I sprinted towards where I had heard the screams, and when the dense fungal growth blocked my passage I cleaved my way through with the axe. My cheeks hurt and I realised I had a wide grin plastered to my face and try as I might I couldn¡¯t wipe the damn thing away. This fucking place. I burst into a clearing swarming with different aliens, but I only had eyes for the kid. She was perhaps fifteen and skinny, and was half way up a lone tree in the very centre, kicking down at a slug thing that oozed up at her. Three more of its kind ringed the trunk. A group of Uzbeki were there too, diving down at the slug things and some spindly, humanoid-tree looking aliens with a leathery ballsacks for heads. I hesitated, there had to be two dozen enemies in that clearing. The kid screamed and kicked the slug thing in what I thought was an eye-stalk. Good for her. But her foot stuck to the stalk and the slug used her foot as an anchor to rapidly climb to her level, trapping both her feet in its mass. I was half way across the clearing before I, or the aliens really knew what was happening and swung with all my strength at the treelike alien that barred my path. It felt like I¡¯d struck stone, the blade stopping dead and the haft bruising my hands. The thing tilted its ballsack head down to look at me and I braced for whatever it was about to unleash upon me, but then an audible plink came from where my axe still pressed against its side and the thing shattered into dust, its head rolling away. An Uzbeki used the distraction to ride its tail into another of the tree-like aliens, its adorable quokka head snapping forward as it stopped dead. It fell free then scurried away. A second Uzbeki hit a moment later but this time I heard a plink as it hit and the tree thing disintegrated. The fuzzy little alien hollered a YEEEHAW and ran for a tree. I¡¯d been fascinated with Prince Rupert¡¯s Drops when my science teacher had first shown them to me. Practically indestructible, unless you hit them just right. But if you did, then they, like these aliens, would shatter into powder. I ran to where three of the slug things ringed the base of the tree. Above, the girl struggled to break free and swiped with a rock at the one that had her feet. I swung my axe into one of the slugs and the blade sunk a few inches into its body. It was like the things were made from molasses, I tried to wrench my weapon free but it was stuck fast. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! An box appeared in my HUD. I tried to swipe it away, but it remained persistent. Eligible Lifeform Detected: Form Tribe? Again the presenter started yapping. Did she not get that I was fighting for my fucking life here? I slammed on Yes to make it go away. The slug twisted, yanking the axe from my grasp. Strength drained from my body, leaving me feeling suddenly vulnerable. A flicker from the corner of my vision, I raised my armoured arm reflexively and ducked as an Uzbeki hit, its spear-like tail deflecting off the chitin plates fused to me. It hit the ground with a cheer and scurried a few steps towards a tree until one of the slugs reared up and body slammed it. Something struck me from behind and I fell to a knee. Too much, there was too much to keep track of. The world grew dark for a second and I rolled to the side as a slug landed where I¡¯d been a moment before. I staggered to my feet and opened my inventory, looking for some advantage. What had I been thinking? Wading into battle against these odd was suicide. One of the tree aliens rammed its fingers into the slug that had tried to bodyslam me, my axe was still sticking out of its side. The digits branched into thousands of spikes in an instant, they riddled its gelatinous form and the slug compressed into almost nothing as the tree sucked it dry. My axe hit the ground, and I snatched it up, power flooding me. The kid shrieked again, she was peppering the slug with rocks that she pulled from her inventory. They sunk in, and already the things body was distending, drooping down where all the rocks had settled. I saw her plan, smart kid. Another group of the tree things waded into the clearing, silent as death. Then a moment later, a pack of the Uzbeki scurried in, cheering like they were at a rock concert. This was getting out of hand. I eyed the kid, she had this right? She¡¯d be ok if I ran, I mean, she¡¯d made it this far. I didn¡¯t owe her anything. Then my eyes met hers, and they were the exact same shade of blue as Elena¡¯s. My heart lurched in my chest, I couldn¡¯t let her down, not again. Transferring my axe to my left hand, I withdrew a Gosporian corpse into my right and flung it at the slug in the tree. It stuck to the distended lower of its body and was absorbed. I continued throwing bodies while the kid kept up her hail of rocks. The slug sunk ever lower, like a fat teardrop, only a few inches still covering the kid¡¯s feet. Combat raged all around with ever growing ferocity. Then I heard the sound I had been dreading. A high pitched screech that nearly deafened me. We all stopped, every damn one of us in that clearing turning as one to watch the horrific form of Gabe slither into our midst. The slug attached to the kid came free with a *pop* and fell to the dirt. Gabe attacked. The girl shouted something and leaped from the tree, right at me. I dropped my axe and caught her, but even with the reduced gravity she smashed me to the ground. I watched from my side, dazed, as Gabe shattered tree after tree with its harpoon arms. Their ballsack heads dropping and rolling away. An Uzbeki rode its tail right into what I assumed passed as Gabe¡¯s neck but its tail skittered free without causing any injury. Blonde hair and a pair of blue eyes blocked my vision. I blinked. ¡°Wha?¡± I asked ¡°I said.¡± The kid replied. ¡°Are you just gonna lay there, or are we going to get the hell out of here!?¡± ¡°Right, yeah.¡± I shook my head, clearing the stars from my vision and climbed to my feet. Something crunched inside me, that couldn¡¯t be good. I picked up my axe and staggered in a circle. We were in the middle of the clearing, totally surrounded by the melee, so I chose the absolute opposite direction from Gabe, pointed, and ran. The kid kept up easily and she withdrew a pair of Gosporian forelimbs from her inventory, holding them like daggers. We wove between the combatants, and nearly made it to the edge of the clearing when a wall of the slug things emerged to bar our way. I swore and looked about. More and more creatures entered the clearing with every moment that passed. Strange lifeforms that I didn¡¯t have time to understand. I looked down at the kid, her blue eyes were narrowed, teeth bared, daggers raised as she swore in what I was pretty sure was French. I looked at the creatures all about, at Gabe as it cut a swathe of death and destruction. There was no getting out of here. The kid looked at me with Elana¡¯s bright blue eyes and I made my decision. ¡°You¡¯re going to have to run kid. Run and don¡¯t look back. I¡¯ll be fine. Ok?¡± ¡°What are you-¡± She cut off with a squawk as I bent down and grabbed her by one ankle. She toppled. I spun about, using the weight of my axe as counterbalance for the girl and with the help of the impossible strength it gave me, and the reduced gravity I flung the kid right over the top of the wall of slugs, and into the jungle beyond. Holy shit, I thought. I¡¯d just chucked her like twenty yards. That had to be some kind of a record. I turned just in time to see Gabe charge a group of tall, oddly beautiful creatures that looked to have come straight from a fairy tale. They stood in a row, shoulder to shoulder holding identical spears at a precise angle. Gabe ran through them like they weren¡¯t even there. I shuddered and ran a little, trying to find a way out. I turned back to face the chaos, gripping my axe tightly. Gabe¡¯s hulking form loomed larger than life, snake body propelling it along, man-like torso raising its eyeless hammerhead high and obliterating everything in its path. Slugs, Uzbeki, the ball-sack trees, even those fairy-tale creatures. A swipe of its harpoon-arm shattered the final tree standing between us, and even though it didn¡¯t have eyes, I knew its gaze had locked onto me. It screeched, a piercing sound that rattled my skull and made my knees buckle. Every creature in the clearing froze, heads turning toward me like I¡¯d just become the grand prize in this bloodbath. A message flashed onto my HUD in glowing red text. WARNING: CRITICAL THREAT DETECTED. No shit. Gabe lunged, tentacles outstretched. I raised my axe, knowing damn well it wouldn¡¯t be enough. My muscles screamed as I prepared to strike. Then, the kid¡¯s voice rang out behind me, her French accent sharp and furious. ¡°Oi, Sac ¨¤ Merde!¡± I glanced over my shoulder. She stood at the jungle¡¯s edge, holding something in her hands¡ªa glowing device, pulsing with light. It was unlike anything I¡¯d seen before, and the moment she activated it, the air around her warped and crackled with lightning. Gabe stopped mid-charge, its hammerhead swinging to point in her direction, harpoon tenticle arms twitching and curling. She threw the thing, a thread of electricity marking its path and connecting her to the nightmare. ¡°What the hell are you doing?!¡± I shouted, my voice cracking. She grinned, her blue eyes burning with defiance. The ground trembled, and the jungle around her and Gabe seemed to collapse inward, folding like paper. Then, in a flash of lightning, Gabe was gone¡ªand so was she. ¡°NO!¡± I shouted, the word tearing from my throat. I staggered, blinking against the afterimage burned into my retinas, the clearing suddenly eerily quiet. Every remaining creature turned to me, their intelligent eyes gleaming with the same question. The jungle trembled. And I realised. Gabe wasn¡¯t the only nightmare on this planet. Chapter 10: Hijacked Chapter 10: Hijacked Despite all the freaky gasp-barking, sleep apnea, and constant bladder issues, I bloody missed Gazpacho after I moved away. He was a menace, sure, and my life wasn¡¯t better for having his incontinent arse around. But still¡ªI missed the little weirdo. Go figure. I think there¡¯s a lesson in that somewhere. Even when it isn''t good for us, the heart wants what it wants, and there ain¡¯t much we can do about it. ¡ª I¡¯m pretty sure the kid had freaked the aliens the fuck out with her teleporting trick, hell, she sure had freaked me out. But by the time everyone started moving again and resumed half-heartedly murdering each other, they seriously wanted nothing to do with me. I slunk into the jungle, leaving the melee behind and focused on putting some distance between us. My predator perk screamed at me to return, to fight and kill, but with the immediate danger now over, I knew I needed to be clear headed or I¡¯d just end up in the shit again. It took a few minutes to psych myself up, but eventually, I gritted my teeth and turned off the perk. It hit me like a hammerblow. I staggered and had to lean against a tree, as wave after wave of suppressed horror and fear rushed through me. I saw the kids eyes again, exactly the same shape and shade as Elena¡¯s. But even worse than the horror was the memories it brought. Of what I had done to Elena and her family. This damn perk. When I finally gathered myself, I noticed that a new, flashing icon had appeared in my HUD. I selected it and two new boxes appeared. The first was a Tribe menu. I expected the showrunner would start yapping at me, but she didn¡¯t. Maybe she had gotten the hint, that I didn¡¯t give a damn about her or anything she wanted to tell me. Tribe: Unnamed Members 2/20 Allan Alberghini: Level 2 Human. Ariel Du Bouchard: Level 2 Human. So that was the kids name, Ariel. The girl with Elena¡¯s eyes. Despite only knowing her for a few minutes, I¡¯d done my damn best to save her. I wished I were a better man, and that I could say I would have done the same for any child. But I knew myself. Once I¡¯d seen those eyes, it had been guilt, not selflessness, that had driven the decision. A memory began to replay behind my eyes and I suppressed it before it could hurt me. For just a moment, I wished I still had my old implant to help me forget. I was in the kid¡¯s debt and had no idea how to repay her. But I sure as hell knew I couldn¡¯t handle another blue eyed death on my conscience. The memories rose again. Strong, dark and painful. My mental finger hovered over the flaming skull icon of my predator perk. Just one tap and it would all go away. But I knew it was a trap, an addiction, and I forced myself to look away. There was a second box to investigate. I leaned against the soft surface of a tree as a map expanded to fill most of my vision. The interface was incredibly similar to the one I used back on Earth. The one I used almost every day to navigate around the city to find my jobs. I zoomed in and out, my path over the last two days was clearly shown as a high resolution path through the fog of unexplored valley. As I fiddled, I found that it even employed the same mental control system as my Earth map. On reflex, I rotated and tapped the top left. To my surprise, a glitch and gibberish filled search window flickered up. It fuzzed in and out, obscuring the text, but beneath the search bar, I could still just barely make out some of the history. At the top of the list was the Benson-Wang house address; I¡¯d replaced their breakers a few days before. It wasn¡¯t just similar, then. It was using the exact same mapping program as my implant. My antivirus flickered up, strobing on and off several times before fading away. That was weird; I¡¯d thought it had been deleted when the alien tech took over. Looking at that stuttering search window, an idea occurred to me, and with it came an insidious flicker of hope. I looked back to the Tribe menu and copied the kid¡¯s name. Ariel Du Bouchard. But before I could paste it into the damaged search window, a figure dropped at me from the tree above. I swore and threw myself back as something whistled past my face. One scraped down the length of my armoured arm, while the other snagged my cheek with a white hot flash of pain that made me yelp. Adrenaline surged, the sudden fear so intense that I thought I might shit my pants. I flicked a look to predator, but activating it now would mean collapsing the search window, and I wasn¡¯t sure that I could bring it up again. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Closing the window would mean losing my chance to find Ariel. I leaped back a few steps, cursing my stupidity. My weapons were all stored in the inventory, and with the map screen up I couldn¡¯t get to them. I squinted through the overlays, but couldn¡¯t see my assailant, it had just damn vanished. I could run, but with my vision obscured I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d make it far. I¡¯d a decision to make. A chance to save Ariel and fight whatever the hell this thing was with no weapons, no perk and a bunch of overlays cluttering my vision. Or give up on the girl. Shit, I¡¯d barely known her, this should be easy. I held a mental finger, ready to close the map, but then I remembered her eyes, remembered what had happened to Elena¡¯s youngest daughter because of me. Fuck. I clenched my fists to hide their shaking, did I really have it in me to fight whatever this was? I backed up to a tree, cutting off at least one avenue of attack and squinted into the tangled fungal undergrowth, filled with glowing tendrils and spore like blobs. A flurry of movement came from my left, where a mass of glowing, sea-urchin-looking plant things clumped. Something zipped at my face. I ducked and they thwacked into the tree behind me, right where my head had been. Then silence, and still. My enemies up until this point had been more of the honest, murder you in broad daylight kind. How could I fight something that I couldn''t see? I touched one of the things stuck in the tree where my head had been. It was crude, but cunningly made. A double-ended throwing dagger about the size of my hand, carved from what I assumed was Gosporian chitin. I pulled a pair of them free, at least now I had weapons. I squinted through the overlays, but still saw nothing. Whatever this thing was, it was smart, smart enough to kill me from a distance rather than risk a direct confrontation. But that probably meant it considered me a threat, and I might have a chance if I could spot it and get in close. I wondered if it was terrified too. I threw one of the daggers in the direction it had come from, hoping for a lucky hit, or to frighten and flush my attacker out. It didn¡¯t work, of course, and I felt like a bit of an idiot. I pried another dagger free from the trunk. My heart thudded in my ears, and it was so hot, so humid. Sweat dripped into my eyes and I wiped it away with my arm. The moment my vision was obscured, I heard a rustle. On instinct, I dove out of the way as more daggers zipped at me. I landed hard, rolled and scurried along on all fours as a line of daggers impaled the earth, missing me by inches. But as soon as I stopped and looked at where they came from, the attacks ceased, and all was still. So stupid, to cover my eyes while under attack. I needed to stop making mistakes. I backed up to another tree, circled around it until I was opposite to where the ranged attack had come from, and waited a moment. Then I leaped out and dashed, directly at where I had seen the movement. I spotted the thing as it shifted from one tree to another, obviously looking to circle around me. I¡¯d have never seen it, had it not moved. It was camouflaged, with dirt and plants affixed all over its body like it wore an alien ghillie suit. A pair of dextrous limbs rose and flicked, throwing daggers at me rapid fire, one sunk into my hip and another into my thigh, but by some miracle, I deflected the rest with my armoured arm. I limped onwards and the thing panicked, making terrified little whimpers and trying to climb a tree. I leaped with my good leg, superhuman in the low gravity and caught it a few feet off the ground, pinning it to the trunk with a dagger in both fist. The thing squealed like a horse with a broken leg, shockingly loud in the quiet jungle and I stabbed it again and again until it went silent. I looked at the blood that covered my hands, bright red just like my own, and I vomited. The squeals had turned into barely understandable English at the end, and it had been begging for its life. I wondered if the other aliens that I had killed had begged for their own lives too. Was that the purpose of the wild music that filled my brain whenever I activated my predator perk? To mask the sobs, the screams, the last wishes? This fucking place. I leaned against the tree and scrubbed the tears from my eyes. The burning coal in my gut flared into life again and I trembled, but not in fear, in fury. This sick game and the evil bastards who forced us into it¡ªthey were the ones who should be begging for their lives. These alien were just like me, kidnapped and exploited, forced to do things we¡¯d never choose to do. They weren¡¯t the real enemy. I took a deep breath, I couldn¡¯t stay here. I was bleeding and the screams must have attracted attention. The moment of truth. I pasted the kid¡¯s name into the flickering search window, nothing happened, for a moment. Then the search closed and my map zoomed out to show the entire valley. My stomach knotted as a pin dropped, labelled A. Du Bouchard. It glowed in the cliffs by the sea. And just like that, I knew what I had to do. I¡¯d kill to get to her if I had to, but maybe I could save one life in the process. Judging by the distance I had travelled in my short time here, it would take me three days or so to get to her. I wondered if she would survive that long on her own? Would I? And what about Gabe? Surely he couldn¡¯t be with her, or else she¡¯d be dead already. There was so much going on, so much uncertainty that my head felt like it might explode. I closed all the overlays and withdrew my axe. It was a comforting weight in my hands. But this time no rush of strength came with it. I looked down at the throwing daggers still stuck in me. They¡¯d need to come out. I took a deep breath and eyed my predator icon, it was a necessary evil but I couldn¡¯t quite bring myself to activate it just yet. It was strange, I could not longer taste the rancid stink of the air, and even the green of the sky seemed mundane. It was amazing how quickly I¡¯d adapted. How quickly the unreal becomes ordinary. I hoped I¡¯d never feel that way about the lives I took. I inspected the axe in my hands, why wasn¡¯t this damn thing making me stronger? Ebonrage: Rare Conditional Effect: Increases the welder¡¯s strength by 20% if they are in a berserk state. There were a bunch of numbers too, damage stats and the like but I had no clue what they all meant. I felt a chill; there was no bloody way that this was a coincidence. As I walked through the fungal forest of my new world, I remembered the deep, throaty voice that the showrunner had spoken with as she asked me to activate the hatchling predator perk. How excited she¡¯d been to see me use it. What were the chances that I would find a weapon that only made me stronger if I used the addictive, mind altering perk? Looking up into the green sky, I wondered who was watching me right now. Whose finger was on the scale, and to what end? I hit the icon. The music roared to life, strength surged through me, and I ripped the daggers from my flesh. Fear and horror faded, unimportant. I could barely remember what I''d been so worried about. I was a predator, and now I¡¯d make them all fucking pay. Chapter 11: The Bloody Road Chapter 11: The Bloody Road Elena had three daughters, each sweeter than the last. When we reconnected after all those years, the oldest was almost the same age as she had been when we first met. Elena let them play on the playground, while we sat together beneath a towering eucalyptus. Years had passed, but when we spoke it was like I had seen her but the day before. We were still the same, we were still in love. ¡ª I stared through the thinning fungal trees at the cliffs that loomed in the distance. The sun had just crested the horizon, clambering over jagged spires that pierced the canopy to stab into the sickly green sky. Three days of relentless pursuit had etched the alien terrain into my bones. The predator perk, doping my body with hormones, kept the ache of my many injuries at bay. While ahead, on my minimap, the glow of Ariel¡¯s pinned location pulled at me like a beacon. The closer I came to the cliffs by the sea, the fewer aliens I¡¯d seen. The battles that had once been so frequent, were now replaced by churned earth, bleeding trees and old gore. Something cataclysmic had happened, and I drew closer to it by the day. I waited for the daily announcement that came with each sunrise. Waited to hear how many billions had died the day before. My armoured arm spasmed and I clenched my fist as pain flared through my predator perk. Whatever the showrunners had done to me meant that given time, I healed from most injuries. But the black veins crawling out from beneath the Gosporian carapace had worsened, spreading into a dense web that painted the entire limb black. Even through the numbing effects, it now thumped and burned constantly. I¡¯d not turned my perk off in days and had no idea what might happen when I did. The screaming guitar riff dimmed, and I tensed. ¡°Good morning survivors! And welcome to day six.¡± I twitched as the voice blared in my head, but I was getting used to it. ¡°I am so excited to give you an update. Can you believe it¡¯s been a whole day since we last spoke?! Congratulations to all of you!¡± Boxes appeared in my HUD, populating with numbers as she spoke. ¡°Of the 79 billion, 880 thousand, 291 contestants in this iteration of WARGAMES!-¡± The damn jingle started playing again. I hummed along, and hated myself for it. ¡°Just under 35 billion of you have now died! Wow! Stage 1 usually lasts for fourteen to twenty-one days, so this is some incredible work on your part!¡± ¡°Four more civilisations have proven themselves unsuitable, and are now eliminated. Drrruuum roll please!¡± The sound effect the followed was the kind I¡¯d expect from a low-budget, late-night comedy show, and would have been cheesy and lame if it hadn¡¯t signified the death of planets. Their names appeared in my HUD, with lines through them. The Chunders The Philanthropic Conglomerate of Squee Bob-Bob-Bob The Tunx The glee with which she announced the deaths of billions made my damn skin crawl, but knowing we were only five billion lives from the end of stage one¡­ I wasn¡¯t sure how that made me feel. ¡°Now I don¡¯t want to spoil anything¡­ But gosh, I just can¡¯t contain myself! There is one stand out civilisation this year that is really overachieving. For those of you in the Mesa, Tundra and Down Deep biomes, well if by some miracle you¡¯re still alive, then you¡¯ll know exactly who we¡¯re talking about!¡± She let out a high, baby like giggle that went on for way too long. ¡°But just a heads up, survivors! Just because you might not know who I¡¯m talking about, doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re safe! This incredible civilisation is present in almost every area of Stage 1. Oh, my! Wasn¡¯t that just deliciously ominous?! Finally, I want you all to know that I¡¯ve been listening to a lot of moaning and groaning about level ups over the last few days. It¡¯s boring, so stop it, okay? We all get it! It was the most sublime pleasure you¡¯ve ever felt. All of you received one in exchange for your first kill, but that¡¯s the natural limit for the stage! Survive to Stage 2 and everything changes. Isn¡¯t that exciting!?¡± She seemed in fine form this morning, all sugar coated excitement. There was little pause, and a glitch in the audio as though a recording had been switched over. ¡°Just a little reminder. Every now and then, one of us will pop into your head for an explanation of the rules, or to give you a piece of information that you have earned. These moments are often of critical importance. But for some reason, some of you seem determined to ignore us! This hurts our feelings, and really damages your chances at survival.¡± Her honey-sweet, schoolteacher voice dropped a full octave. ¡°So stop it. Or you will be punished.¡± ¡°Okay then! That¡¯s all from me! By for now! Have fun!¡± All sugar again. I froze for a long moment. That last part. Besides the morning bulletin, I¡¯d been resolutely ignoring the showrunner as she bleated at me, and I had sensed her growing frustration. ¡°Punished?¡± I muttered. ¡°What the hell does that mean?¡± This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. ¡°Don¡¯t find out, Allan.¡± The voice was bass and guttural and I nearly jumped out of my damn skin. I¡¯d raised my axe on instinct, and studied it, remembering my revelation from days before. They were already giving me targeted loot, the last thing I needed was more attention. I sighed and tried to put it from my mind. There was too much to worry about without adding pissed off alien overseers to the mix. Gabe was out there and though I still had no idea what a tourist was, I had a feeling that he wasn¡¯t playing by the same rules as the rest of us. The infection in my black arm worsened every day. Thousands of those damn drones still hovered high above us all, doing who knew what the fuck. And Ariel, to whom I owed my life, was now within arms reach, if my map could be trusted. I opened my minimap and looked at her pin, then tried once again to get the search window up. It flickered, blinked and faded away before I could update her location. I¡¯d been trying for days now with no success. Would she even still be there? I saw her eyes, so much like Elena¡¯s, defiant in the face of the monstrous Gabe as she zapped them both away. Why had she done it? And how? A surge of guilt rose and almost overwhelmed the perk, so I leaped into action, descending to the jungle floor. Setting off through the jungle, I avoided chunks of dead aliens scattered over the ground, and wove between fungal trees as I headed for the foothills, still a few miles distant. An hour passed with no signs of life, but I was pretty sure the guitar was slowly building to a crescendo. It raised the hairs at my neck. I leaped a bloody pit and cursed as I brushed against a cluster of glowing, fruit like nodules that hung from a trunk. One glued itself to my ragged trousers. The previous day, I¡¯d gotten three of them stuck to my skin and spent the better part of an hour trying to detach the sticky bastards. In the end I¡¯d damn near shaved them off with my axe blade. This one I cut free, along with a section of my trousers. I''d be running around naked soon it this kept up. My parent''s dog Gazpacho had a chronically itchy arse, and a thick hide. He used to rub himself on prickle bushes, the nastier the better. I couldn¡¯t count the amount of time I had spent as a kid, picking prickles from his rump while his stumpy little tail waggled furiously. The discarded seeds had ended up colonising in our lawn, so I had to wear shoes whenever I ran in the yard. If these fungal plants were at all like those from home, the sticky nodules would have evolved to transfer to animals in a similar way to the prickles. I sighed. It was ridiculous; with all the horrors of this world, all the conveniences and comforts I¡¯d left behind, I missed that damn dog most of all. I inspected the sticky ball, before storing it with a dozen others in my inventory. A name appeared in my HUD, accompanied by the showrunners voice. Xeinruis Polyphagonoria "It''s the fuiting body of a native tree. Don''t let it touch you! They are coated in one of the strongest natural adhesives we have ever encountered!" I''d inspected plenty of these fruit things before, but the showrunner had never made a comment. I remembered the warning I''d received, and forced myself to grunt a response. "Uh, thanks. But what''s with the name? I can''t pronounce... Whatever that was." I stored the sticky ball in my inventory with a dozen others I had collected through my journey. There was a ping and slight buzz in my brain, and the name in my HUD changed. Sticky Fruit. I felt cold. So much for not attracting more attention. As I eyed the rocky low hills, just visible through the thinning trees, I ran my fingers over runic alien writing, carved into the trunk beside me. Rivulets of dried sap ran down the trunk to the dirt. Sights like these had grown more frequent as I approached the coast. I wondered what they were saying to each other. I had a feeling they were warnings, but wasn¡¯t sure why. I scanned the jungle, high and low, but saw nothing but the remnants of days old battle, and paths of blood that converged, painting lines towards the hills that were my destination. A new scent blew on the wind, like death, burning metal and ozone. After spending days beneath the jungle''s thick canopy, leaving it made me feel suddenly vulnerable. The thrumming of Gosporian wings filled the air, and as I gained elevation I could see them by the thousands, motionless in the sky. A cluster of the drones hovered only a handful of yards from the top of the ridge, bundled together by the wind. As I drew closer, the vibrations of their wings grew so intense that sand and small stones juddered down the hillside. The music raised in volume, screaming, but even it couldn¡¯t drown out the sound of their wings. I moved between boulders, low and quick. The bloody lines of gore that lead from the treeline converged here into a dark, crusted road that lead to the top of ridge. I had a feeling I knew who waited beyond. Bringing up my minimap, I saw that Ariel¡¯s pin was close now, half a mile or less. I dropped to my hands and knees and crawled the last few yards to the top of the ridge, peeking over into the valley beyond. A gust of wind carried with it the stench of slaughter and I almost gagged. A pyramid constructed from the corpses of hundreds, no, thousands of dead aliens sat in the valley beyond. It was grotesque in its artistry, bodies arranged almost ceremoniously. I ducked back below the rise, heart thundering, then slowly rose to peek again. Gabe was coiled atop the pyramid¡¯s summit, still as a statue. His manlike upper torso ramrod straight, tentacle arms spread wide, hammerhead tilted upward as though raised to the sky. Piled around him like a birds nest were hundreds of severed alien heads. Do aliens have gods? The thought filled me with rage. The idea that this fucking monstrosity could worship a deity, while my own people had burned my grandma¡¯s house to the ground, with her trapped inside for praying in secret. I watched, taking deep breaths, and took control of myself. Time ticked by. The music of my perk, initially roaring with such ferocity that it had drowned out the Gosporian wingbeats, now walked through a series of familiar tunes. I¡¯d gotten to know the soundtrack after days of travel, and this one usually played when it thought I was being a little bitch. I was getting better at ignoring it. I had to think this through, I had to be smart. But I couldn¡¯t turn off my perk, not with my arm the way it was. The valley in which Gabe had nested ran for miles in either direction, flanked by exposed cliff. I tightened my grip on my axe as pain flared in my infected arm, the black veins pulsing like a second heartbeat. Could I even swing the axe properly if it came to that? The thought gnawed at me as I stared at my blackened fist, the carapace creaking under the strain. I¡¯d come so far for her, it would be stupid to throw my life away on a suicidal run. What if I could just wait out the end of the stage, and meet her on the next? But I had no idea what would happen when Sticks and Stones ended, no idea if our situation would be improved. Atop the pyramid, the tourist didn¡¯t move. Did aliens sleep? His hammerhead had no eyes, it was impossible to tell. I scanned the valley for another way around, but in my heart I knew there was none. The depression stretched for miles, flanked by steep ridges too exposed to climb without being seen. My grip on the obsidian axe tightened as I forced myself to look at him again. Gabe hadn¡¯t moved¡ªnot even a twitch¡ªbut the pyramid of corpses beneath him told me that anything foolish enough to cross his path would be added to the pile. Ariel¡¯s pin was so close now, the glow burned into my vision like a second sun. I pictured her eyes¡ªwide with fear but ever defiant. Elena¡¯s eyes as the agents had come for us. I owed her that much, didn¡¯t I? To fight for her like I should¡¯ve fought for them. If she was alive, she was somewhere beyond that monster. If she wasn¡¯t¡­ The thought hurt worse than the throb in my infected arm. I couldn¡¯t lose another. The music in my head surged, the guitar riff swelling, screaming, urging me to act. It knew what I was thinking, and it was excited. I took a deep breath, massaging my temples as I considered my options. There weren¡¯t any. This was it. But then a flicker of red caught my eye. A strip of cloth fluttered on the ridge opposite mine, snapping in the wind like a signal. My jaw dropped as Ariel¡¯s blonde hair rose beside it, her familiar blue eyes meeting mine even from this distance. She raised her hands, waggling her fingers like she knew sign language. I sure as shit didn¡¯t. Was it a warning? A signal? And how the hell had she known I was coming to this exact point, at this exact time? This kid was so damn suspicious. I flicked a glance back to the pyramid, and my blood ran cold. Gabe¡¯s head had turned, hammer-shaped and eyeless, but somehow I knew he was locked onto my position. The bastard had been watching me the whole time. Chapter 12: Hinged Flesh and Hidden Monsters Chapter 12: Hinged Flesh and Hidden Monsters As time went by, our meetups became ever riskier. It reminded me of those teenage years, when we both snuck out of our windows and shared kisses beneath the moonlight. But love is intoxicating, and forbidden love doubly so. Perhaps the UE knew something we didn¡¯t. Perhaps they separated us not out of cruelty, but out of wisdom. We wouldn¡¯t stop, couldn¡¯t stop, not for anyone or anything. Or so I thought. ¡ª From atop his pyramid of corpses, Gabe¡¯s hammerhead wove back and forth. But he didn¡¯t come for me. Strong winds buffeted my hair, carrying the stench of rotting alien flesh. They swept the group of hovering Gosporians closer to me and the vibration of their wings was so strong that my teeth rattled in my skull. I looked to Ariel again, and she was making the same weird gestures. Then, to my utter astonishment, she lifted a live Gosporian from behind the ridge. Its limbs were bound by vines, but the pair of wings that rose from its middle body segment were free and I could see them buzzing. It lifted into the air like a bug balloon on a string. She pointed to the bug, then to her ears and eyes and I thought I understood what she was saying. A couple of years ago, the UE introduced a new public security initiative. All around the city, these metal rod things popped up. They turned out to be sonar towers that gave real time positional data of everyone at all times. That night, bats had fallen from the sky like hail. I eyed the Gosporians overhead, could they really be jamming Gabe¡¯s vision? Ariel tied the Gosporian¡¯s leash to her belt and stood. She mimed herself jumping down and moving to my position. My heart lurched in my chest. She would be so exposed, surely Gabe would add her skull to his pile. She slid down the far slope and I half rose, axe clenched tight as Gabe¡¯s eyeless hammerhead turned to her. His head waved like an antenna searching for a signal. Then he slid down the pyramid like a seal going down a damn waterslide. He slithered towards Ariel, a trail of blood painting his path. She froze, fists clenched at her side and screwed her eyes closed for a moment. Then she opened them and looked to me. I¡¯d climbed over the ridge without realising it, and was only a step from the sheer drop that would take me into the valley. Ariel cocked her head as though listening to something, then raised a hand at me, palm out in a ¡®stop¡¯ gesture. I froze. Gabe slithered in fitful bursts, then stopped, and retreated, shaking his head. The damn bugs above me were rattling the teeth in my skull. I could hardly imagine what they must be doing to his specialised sensory organs. The kid began her trot across the valley floor once more. Gabe followed, dashing close then backing off with shrieks of annoyance. I couldn¡¯t believe this shit was working, but I¡¯d do practically anything to avoid a confrontation with the Tourist. It all went wrong as Ariel reached the cliffs below me and started to climb. The mindless Gosporian tethered to her belt struck the cliff face, its wings stuttering and tangling as it pinged off sections of rock. Gabe surged in, right to the base of the cliff. He fired a harpoon upwards, skewering the drone in one clean movement. He reeled the bug towards his flower mouth like a chameleons tongue. Ariel was pulled from the cliff, hitting the ground hard. The Predator perk pushed me forward. Music screaming in my head, urging me to fight. I leapt from the cliff. But was it me who¡¯d jumped to save Ariel, or this thing twisting my instincts? I hated how much I needed it, and I hated myself even more for loving the rush. Ariel rolled with the fall and cut the vine with her improvised daggers, diving away as two harpoon tentacles impacted where she had been half a second before. The wind whistled through my hair as I fell. My axe raised high above my head. Guitar screamed in my mind. I screamed too, a long, involuntary FUUUCK. Time slowed. I saw the thick base of a tentacle bunch, as it tensed to fire and I knew I was too late. The harpoon launched just as Ariel found her feet, rocketing at her centre of mass. I swung with all my strength, with my weight and the momentum of a ten yard fall behind me. I sheared through the cluster of tentacles on its right hand side like they were ramen-fucking-noodles. I crash-landed onto the Tourist; it felt like when I¡¯d been hit by a car. Gabe wailed like a damn banshee and I felt both of my ear drums pop. Blood poured down my neck, and suddenly everything¡ªexcept the predator guitar¡ªwas muffled as though I was underwater. Gabe writhed and I was thrown free along with a spray of gasoline and ozone stinking blood. I staggered to my feet, axe ready. Where was Ariel? She¡¯d be injured, I had to protect her. Nope. She was fine, and half way up the cliff already. Smart kid. She shouted something at me, like that would do any good. She pointed, and I turned back to Gabe who had retreated twenty yards. I froze, watching as he bit off one of his remaining tentacles and wrapped it around the stubs of the missing cluster like a tourniquet. Yeah fuck that. I stored my axe and speed-climbed up that cliff like I was Spiderman. Ariel was already at the top, and jabbered something at me. I pointed at the blood pouring from my ear holes and shouted. ¡°My ears are fucked!¡± Her eyes flashed as she pulled something from her inventory. Then the kid stepped in close, raised her hand to her mouth and blew a fistful of white powder all over my face. There was a whoosh inside my skull and the Deaf! icon in my HUD disappeared. Sound returned. Gabe screamed down in the valley, Gosporians buzzed above. ¡°Better?¡± Ariel asked. ¡°We¡¯ve got to go!¡± She didn¡¯t wait for a response, and set off running down the hill. What the hell had the kid done to heal me? The white powder caking my face tingled and made my eyes water. I must look like one of those coke-addict caricatures from the propaganda cartoons the UE made us watch at school. I set off to follow her, then paused. Gabe was still in the valley, squawking up a storm and performing some sort of first aid. I wasn¡¯t na?ve enough to believe he¡¯d give up on us. If anything he¡¯d want revenge. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. I pulled out a length of real rope I¡¯d nabbed from the golden cache so many days before, then stuck one of those sticky fruits to one end. The Gosporians were only a few yards above me. I swung the rope in one hand and flung it at the cluster of drones, missing badly. Gabe had gone silent. That couldn¡¯t be good. I tried to pull the sticky-fruit ended rope back, but it was stuck fast to a boulder so I cut the end free and stuck a new fruit on. This was taking too long. The music of my predator perk was doing this weird thing, like it was mimicking my heartbeat. It was horrifying. I was wound so tight that if you stuck a lump of coal up my arse I¡¯d squeeze it to diamond. I flung the rope again, and by some miracle the fruit gummed onto a Gosporian¡¯s drooping hind leg. I turned and ran, pulling it behind me like an ugly balloon just as Gabe crested the rise. Rain fell like a curtain. It turned the bloody path of gore that lead from Gabe¡¯s valley to the forest into a slip-n-slide. My arms wheeled as I struggled to maintain my footing, but eventually I gave up and slid down the hillside. Ariel waited at the treeline, muttering to herself. She was crouched low with her hands pressed into the muddy ground. Her hair clung to her face, soaked from the sudden downpour. As I skidded to a stop next to her, she hissed, "Stay low!" And grabbed the Gosporian¡¯s rope from my hand, yanking the bug closer. She pulled some vines from her inventory and wrapped them deftly around the struggling creature¡¯s limbs and wings; the buzzing of the drones wings doubled in volume and was shrill like a dental drill. ¡°What the hell are you doing?¡± I whispered, glancing back toward the ridge where Gabe loomed, silhouetted against the stormy sky. His hammerhead was waving back and forth as though confused by the drones a few yards above. His remaining tentacles suddenly shot out to impale the drones. ¡°Trust me,¡± Ariel shouted over her shoulder as she ran into the jungle, ¡°And don¡¯t let these touch you!¡± She dropped long stretches of glowing vines over the forest floor. ¡°These will slow him down.¡± I cursed as my Gosporian balloon got tangled in the trees above. I wound it in, holding it close. ¡°How the hell do you know that?¡± I asked, narrowing my eyes. ¡°What kind of kid knows how to do this?¡± The brat didn¡¯t answer, just pulled a glowing blue vine from her inventory and secured it to a tree trunk. She snatched the drone from me and stuck the other end to its carapace. The drone lifted into the air, just barely able to lift the glowing vine. ¡°You want to die out here, or do you want to help me set the traps?¡± I gritted my teeth and looked back, still no sign of Gabe. She had a point. ¡°Fine. What do you need me to do?¡± ¡°Take this.¡± She handed me a bundle of sharp, spike-like objects wrapped in a ragged strip of fabric. ¡°Plant them along that path,¡± she said, pointing to a narrow clearing that sloped down toward a clearing. ¡°Come back when you¡¯re done.¡± ¡°Right.¡± I muttered, already moving; I¡¯d never been able to refuse Elena. I took the spikes and darted toward the clearing. I¡¯d seen Gabe wade through hits from Uzbeki, what the hell would these things do? The rain made the blood soaked ground boggy and treacherous, and I felt like I was one wrong move away from eating mud. Behind me, I could hear Ariel speaking in French as she worked, almost as though she were having a conversation. Had she sent me away on purpose? I shook my head, ramming the spikes in at uneven intervals along the path. Whatever she was up to, at least she had a plan. That was more than I could say. When I finished, I darted back to Ariel. She was crouched behind a fallen tree, securing a vine to a makeshift pulley system she¡¯d constructed from roots, stones and what looked like pieces of broken alien machinery. Behind her, the Gosporian she¡¯d tethered earlier was buzzing in circles and glowing. The light cast eerie shadows across her face. ¡°Done.¡± I said, dropping next to her. ¡°Now tell me what this is all about. What¡¯s with the vines, the bugs, the¡ª¡± ¡°Shh!¡± She pressed a finger to her lips and pointed. Gabe was moving through the trees, his massive body navigating the undergrowth with unnerving grace. He paused, his hammerhead tilting as if sniffing for something. Then he surged forward, heading straight for the drone, and the traps. Ariel grabbed my arm and pulled me deeper into the forest. ¡°We¡¯re out of time. We need to lead him into the clearing,¡± she said, her voice low. ¡°Stay close to me and don¡¯t stop running, no matter what.¡± ¡°And if this brilliant plan of yours doesn¡¯t work?¡± I asked, gripping my axe tightly. I¡¯d hurt him once, I could do it again. ¡°It¡¯ll work,¡± she said, her familiar blue eyes blazing with determination. ¡°It has to.¡± We moved quickly, darting between trees as Gabe¡¯s massive form crashed through the jungle behind us. The traps Ariel had laid seemed to do equal parts nothing, and sweet fuck all. He tore through them with raw, animalistic fury, his screeches echoing through the forest. ¡°They aren¡¯t working!¡± I shouted, glancing back as Gabe barrelled through another vine trap like it was paper. But, I was wrong, I realised a moment later. The glowing vines were sticking all over his body and as he charged on, he gathered more, until he dragged massive clumps of the jungle with him. ¡°Just a little farther,¡± Ariel called. We burst into a small clearing. The kid turned, her hands raised as if she were readying some final gambit. But before she could act, the sky above us erupted with motion. The Gosporians. The drones that had hovered above the valley for days now glowed like fireflies in the thunderstorm. They flew overhead and through the trees, massing together in a swarm. Gabe had slowed to a crawl and now he froze, his hammerhead whipping upward. For the first time, I saw hesitation in his movements. ¡°What the hell¡¯s happening?¡± I shouted, my voice barely audible over the cacophony. ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± Ariel shouted back, ducking as a wave of drones zoomed overhead. They weren¡¯t attacking us; they hardly seemed to even see us. As the swarm grew, it began to rotate, creating a tornado of light and sound. Gabe''s tentacles lashed out at drones that darted past. He was coming for us again, but moved at a crawl, dragging a huge mat of jungle junk behind. He fired his few remaining harpoon tentacles into the mass as though trying to break it free, but the appendages penetrated the mat and got stuck in the tangle of sticky, glowing vines. He strained, but couldn¡¯t pull them free. ¡°This wasn¡¯t part of the plan,¡± Ariel muttered, staring at the sky, her voice tight with fear. ¡°What bloody plan!?¡± I shouted. ¡°What do we do now?¡± She didn¡¯t answer. Standing frozen. Staring at the tornado swarm. The kid had totally locked up. I grabbed her shoulder and shook her, but she wouldn¡¯t move. ¡°We¡¯ve gotta run, kid. Whatever¡¯s happening, we don¡¯t want to be here.¡± Gabe let out a high shriek of frustration. He was stuck in place, tentacles all missing or stuck. Helpless. Vulnerable. I could kill him. The guitar rose to in a crescendo as I took one step towards him, axe in hand. I watched in horror as his hammerhead popped free of his neck like a grotesque popcorn kernel. It pinged away into the darkness. ¡°What the fuck?¡± I breathed. His chest cracked open, right down the midline from neck to navel. The sound of tearing flesh made me shudder. ¡°C''est quoi ce d¨¦lire?¡± Whispered Ariel. The top half of his body hinged open like a grotesque clamshell, flesh tearing and glistening as a waft of ozone and gasoline stench poured out. A four armed monkey thing leaped free of the cavity, tubes and electrodes popping free from shaved patches. It looked at us with black, hate filled eyes and roared. A glowing dagger shimmered into each of its four hands and it scurried off into the jungle. This fucking place. I pulled Ariel along, the kid was still frozen. The ground beneath us shook, and she stumbled, nearly falling face-first into the mud. I caught her, dragging her along a few paces as I helped her back to her feet. ¡°Come on!¡± Her breaths were coming in gasps, terror and exhaustion obvious. I¡¯d grown used to the almost limitless stamina that my predator perk supplied. She was a skinny kid and had no such assistance. As we crested a small hill, I glanced back one last time. The monkey thing that had been inside Gabe was nowhere to be seen, but about a mile away was a storm of light and motion. The Gosporians. Thousands¡ªno, tens of thousands¡ªwhirled together in a glowing tornado of wings and light. And through the chaos, I glimpsed something that made my blood run cold. It wasn¡¯t mindless. It wasn¡¯t chaos. They were coming together with purpose. Building something. A massive, glowing amalgam reached skyward, with limbs as thick as skyscrapers. Ariel saw it too, her eyes wide and face pale. ¡°What is this?¡± She whispered. I didn¡¯t have an answer, but I didn¡¯t think she was speaking to me. But the showrunner, apparently, did. ¡°Oh boy! Oh boy! OH BOY! Survivors of the Valley biome; Do you remember what I said about a certain civilisation really overachieving?¡± Her honey-sweet voice dropped into a guttural, pack-a-day smoker¡¯s rasp that raised the hairs on my neck. ¡°You¡¯re looking at them!¡± Chapter 13: One Percent Til Death Chapter 13: One Percent Til Death I don¡¯t know if we ever really thought we¡¯d get away with it. I don¡¯t think thought really ever came into the equation. I don¡¯t know how, with all their surveillance tech, the UE could have fucked it all up so badly. They had to know where we really were. They had to know that it was her daughter in the car, not us. So why had they done it? ¡ª The Gosporian Titan took one step, and beneath my feet the whole world rocked. Ariel and I fell to the ground. She was jabbering in French, and I had to drag her to her feet. I stared as the glowing titan bent down and swiped an arm through the jungle, sending a spray of trees into the sky. The music of my perk alternated between themes, unsure of what it wanted me to do. ¡°You and me both.¡± I grunted. There was another sound there too, a humming, and I realised that the Showrunner was still present. ¡°Well isn¡¯t this good timing!? Alert! All survivors: Less than 55% of the starting population remain. The conclusion of Stage One is imminent!¡± Even when she wasn¡¯t speaking, I could hear her heavy breathing. She sounded grotesquely excited, almost sexual. ¡°We would normally have this announcement on day ten, but there is no way we¡¯re getting that far. So, I¡¯ll have to tell you all now.¡± Numbers appeared in the top left of my HUD. 73/5 ¡°We don¡¯t like freeloaders here on WARGAMES! Oh no. In fact, we won¡¯t stand for it! Any survivor with less than 5 kills will automatically be erased at the conclusion of stage one! How¡¯s that for a twist?¡± She let out one of those high, baby giggles. I looked at that number. I¡¯d taken 73 lives. I was a monster. I grinned, but the expression fell from my face as I looked to the kid. Ariel looked horrified; I dreaded the question I had to ask. ¡°How many?¡± ¡°Three.¡± She whispered. ¡°I¡¯ve killed three of five.¡± ¡°WOW!¡± The Showrunner exclaimed, making me jump. ¡°Four percent to go! That announcement really accelerated things!¡± I thought of the barren jungle that had led to Gabe¡¯s pyramid. Had he known? A light flickered through the trees. The drone that I had captured and used as bait. It still strained against the glowing vine as it tried to rise into the sky and join its brethren. I pointed and pushed Ariel ahead of me. ¡°Go kid! Kill it!¡± The opened clamshell carcass of Gabe was barely a few feet away from the drone, and the chemical reek of it took my breath away. Ariel retched, but staggered closer to the drone with a look of determination on her face. I turned in a circle, wary of ambush. Ariel drove an improvised dagger into the drone and its light winked out. One more to go. I gripped my axe. This would be the moment. The moment the monkey form of Gabe would make its move. But the jungle remained still. ¡°Three percent to go!¡± Shrieked the Showrunner. I looked at the kid and she looked back with Elena¡¯s eyes, with her daughter¡¯s eyes. I knew what I had to do. The guitar suddenly blasted, my body flooding with hormones. My vision turned red. It knew what I wanted to say, and didn¡¯t want it to happen. Fuck them. They didn¡¯t control me. I dropped to my knees before Ariel. Stared into those blue eyes. ¡°Do it.¡± Ariel stared at the dagger in her hand. It dripped with yellow Gosporian gore. I closed my eyes. This was the right thing to do. I didn¡¯t want to be a predator, this taker of lives. All I ever wanted was to have kids and watch them grow. The UE had killed that dream. The Aliens had put the nails in the coffin. This was my choice. I wish I could say that a sense of peace stole over me in those moments. But it didn¡¯t. The perk raged and I absolutely shook with it. I took a last, tremulous breath. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Waiting for the end. ¡°Are you fucking kidding me?¡± I opened my eyes to see Ariel staring at me like I¡¯d sprouted an extra nostril. ¡°Dude, I don¡¯t know who you are, or why you think you should sacrifice yourself for me. But you don¡¯t know me.¡± ¡°I...¡± I stammered. ¡°You look at me like I¡¯m your child. I¡¯m not.¡± She didn¡¯t get it. Didn¡¯t know what had happened to Elena¡¯s daughter because of me. ¡°Now get up and help me find something to kill.¡± She turned away. I rose and staggered after her. ¡°It¡¯s my choice, kid. You don¡¯t know what I¡¯ve done!¡± ¡°Not my problem.¡± She continued walking and wouldn¡¯t even look at me. ¡°I¡¯m not killing you.¡± I reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder. She spun and hit me right in the nose. ¡°Don¡¯t touch me!¡± There were tears in her eyes. She scrubbed at her face with a sleeve and looked away. ¡°Twoooooo percent to go!¡± Squealed the Showrunner in our minds¡± Gently, I took her hand in mine. Raising her dagger until its point was against my chest. ¡°One of us has to die, kid. This place has fucked me up, and I¡¯m only getting worse. They¡¯re in my head.¡± ¡°Ne me force pas ¨¤ faire ?a.¡± She whispered. Was she speaking to me? Ariel stiffened, staring at something over my shoulder. I turned, and in a tree a hundred yards as away, four glowing points of light broke the darkness. Four daggers. Gabe. The killer of thousands, whom I suspected was here by choice, and the last creature on this shithole of a planet that I wanted to face. I staggered as the ground shuddered beneath the Titan''s footsteps. I amended that thought. He was the second last creature I wanted to face. I withdrew Ebonrage, nodded to Ariel and we ran for him. The predator was pleased. As we raced through the jungle, I tried to make a plan. Under the influence of my perk, my mind worked in straight lines. That was good, we had no time for subtlty. ¡°I¡¯ll injure him, just stay out of the way until you can deliver the final blow. OK?¡± Ariel started to respond, her voice furious, but the jungle lit up as the Gosporian Titan stepped overhead. I swore and snatched the kid by the collar, trying to hide us behind a tree. I was too slow. Gabe saw us. He leaped down and roared in challenge. Mouth opening like a flower, similar to the snake suit he had worn, while a lurid, red membranous crest snapped open on his skull. He¡¯d have to try harder if he wanted to intimidate me. ¡°ONE PERCENT!¡± I roared. Louder than the Showrunner, louder than the predator¡¯s guitar and dove headlong at the Tourist, raising my axe high and bringing it down with all my strength. I saw a flicker of something in his dark alien eyes that I hoped was fear. He caught my axe-blow above his head with all four daggers. He should have been crushed beneath the force of the strike, but it felt like I¡¯d struck a boulder. He flexed, and I was thrown staggering back. Then he was on me. A dagger came straight for my heart but I turned to take it on my armoured arm. It sank through chitin like it was cake, severing my bicep and bone. I twisted away. The dagger tore free of the Tourists grasp, but he had three more and my black arm hung limp and dead. What had I been thinking? I was an electrician. I didn¡¯t know how to fight. Gabe barked something like a laugh as I swung my axe one-handed in wide, clumsy loops. He danced back a few steps, spinning the daggers in his hands. ¡°I can¡¯t believe a zoo species made me ditch my suit on the first floor. One of the punters will have made big money on that one!¡± His voice was like grinding gears. I didn¡¯t have time to parse his words as he lunged again, closing the distance in the blink of an eye. His daggers flashed like lightning, one slicing through the air so fast it whistled. I barely managed to deflect the strike with my axe, and the force sent me stumbling. Blood poured from my useless, blackened arm, and my grip on the axe faltered. The bastard was playing with me. "Stay back!" I bellowed at Ariel, trying to keep myself between her and the nightmare Tourist. But the kid didn¡¯t listen. She darted to my side, her pale face determined, holding her twin improvised daggers like they were enough to take down this monster. What the hell was she thinking? Gabe''s flower-like mouth opened wider, revealing rows of jagged, alien teeth. "Is this really all you''ve got?" He grated, his voice dripping with disdain. "I was hoping to make the highlight reel.¡± I swung the axe again, slow and sloppy. He ducked, his movements almost lazy, and drove a dagger into my ribs. Pain exploded deep within. He ripped the glowing blade free in a spray of blood. I hit the ground, my axe spinning from my grip. "Allan!" Ariel screamed. Gabe turned to her, his crest flaring. "Stay still, little girl. This won¡¯t hurt much." "No!" I tried to shout, but couldn¡¯t find the breath. I tried to rise, but my body wouldn¡¯t listen. The perk screamed in my head, guitar riff surging to a blistering crescendo, demanding I keep fighting. But I couldn¡¯t. Gabe watched Ariel rush towards him and let out a chuckle. He tucked his arms behind his back. ¡°Go on then kid. Give me your best shot, the first one¡¯s free.¡± Ariel moved fast. Her small frame darting in almost before he had stopped speaking. She drove one of her daggers into his gut, but the blade just barely penetrated his flesh. A trickle of phosphorescent blood dribbled and dripped to the dirt. Gabe snarled, then laughed, and swatted the kid away like an insect. She hit the ground hard, rolling to a stop at the base of a tree. "Ariel!" I gasped and tried to crawl toward her, but Gabe was already in front of me. His foot came down on my chest, thick black nails pressing into my skin and pinning me in place. The weight was unbearable, like a truck pressing me into the dirt. He leaned down, his black eyes mere inches from mine. "You should¡¯ve stayed in your cage.¡± He growled, and his breath was ice cold, sharp and astringent. I braced myself for the killing blow, but then, over his shoulder I saw her. Ariel had staggered back to her feet, holding one of the glowing blue vines she¡¯d been using to trap Gosporians. She looked at me, her blue eyes blazing with defiance, and I knew what she was about to do. I withdrew the mass of sticky fruit from my inventory. They plopped out and glued Gabe¡¯s head to my chest. He squawked and tried to pull free, shaking me like a rag-doll. Ariel lunged forward, wrapping the glowing vine around Gabe¡¯s arms, binding him like she had the drones. He clawed at the vine getting all four limbs stuck. With a strength I didn¡¯t know I had left, I twisted and rolled to the side, pinning Gabe beneath me. "Get him!" She shouted. ¡°No.¡± I hissed. Gabe¡¯s dagger was still rammed to the hilt in my black arm, but that allowed me to draw it into my inventory. I withdrew it a heartbeat later, and threw it to the kid. The Tourist bucked beneath me, ripping the wound in my chest open further. But he wasn¡¯t going anywhere. I was fading, blood loss and grievous injury getting the better of me. My HP bar was down to a sliver. My vision narrowed to a tunnel. He began to knee me, shaving off one HP with every strike. Right in the fucking balls I thought. 5HP THUD 4HP THUD 3HP At the end of the tunnel I could see their eyes; Elena¡¯s. Ariel¡¯s. Identical. They were full of hatred. As they should be. Exactly how she had looked at me for the last time. Ariel rammed the glowing dagger into Gabe¡¯s neck, burying it to the hilt. His body convulsed, crest flaring full open one last time before drooping bonelessly. The Showrunner squealed in delight, but she sounded a million miles away. Numbers and text poured down my HUD. I was fading. Faded. Gone. And time stopped. Chapter 14: The Will of God Interlude 2: The Will of God Priorita Prime rose slowly within the ring of contestants. They woke from their fugue state as she ascended. Music blared, fireworks sparked, and aesthetically pleasing dancers of all shapes swayed, or gyrated to excite the viewers of several hundred worlds. ¡°Welcome my dears! To the very first round table meeting of this season of WARGAMES!¡± Every creature in the room¡ªexcept the contestants¡ªstarted singing the theme-song. She flashed chartreuse and extruded enough of the scent of satisfaction that all would know how pleased she was with them. Half of the contestant-representatives took the opportunity to bolt, and she had to activate their tethers. She suppressed a red ripple of disgust. Cowardice like this would not go unnoticed. The viewers would take note, and the information would affect the stage two betting. ¡°We have with us one representative of every surviving contestant species. Oh my! There are some familiar faces here that I¡¯ve just been dying to meet! Some promising contestants are missing¡ªones I was sure would make it. Oh well! That¡¯s WARGAMES!¡± She oozed across the stage in the ballroom of her cruiser to stop before a tiny, jet black insectoid. Gold descended upon the contestant like a pillar of light, and the creature¡¯s name tag was magnified for the recording. Kulioqui: Gosporian Swarm Queen ¡°I have with me the number one contestant by kill count!¡± A number appeared beneath the name tag with an explosion. 73,887 ¡°Wow! What an incredible achievement. Viewers, please give it up for Kulioqui and the entire Gosporian civilisation! We¡¯ve seen swarms in the past, but it¡¯s rare to see the strategy this species employed.¡± A wireframe model appeared at the centre of the ring, and Priorita jiggled over to it. ¡°The Gosporian Titan! An amalgam consisting of between ten thousand and ten million individual units, all controlled by one mind!¡± The wireframe zoomed in to show a tiny speck at its centre. The queen. She slid back over to the tiny insectoid. ¡°Tell me, little one, what took you and your sisters so long to form the first titan? Why did you send so many drones and so few queens? It appears you lost almost twenty-five billion units before you got your act together on day four!¡± The little Gosporian quivered, and for a moment Priorita thought it might attack her. She had to suppress a surge of excitement in order to keep her outer membrane smooth. ¡°I owe you no explanation, overlord.¡± Chittered the queen. ¡°The swarm will consume this battlefield, and one day we will consume you too.¡± ¡°Oh my! How spunky! Did you hear that, viewers? The little insect here says she¡¯s going to eat all of the contestants, and then come for us too! We call those thoughts: ¡®Delusions of Grandeur.¡¯ Priorita Prime jiggled and released the scent of humour. She sprouted a pseudopod arm and patted the tiny drone on the head. What a cutie! ¡°Unfortunately for this little queen, one of us has looked into their history. We¡¯re going to share it with you, our dear viewers¡ªwhether she likes it or not!¡± Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. The Gosporian queen thrashed and tried to attack her, but only struck the repulser field. ¡°Control yourself, dear. You¡¯re lucky we decided that an amalgam counted as a single unit for the five-kill rule, or else you¡¯d find yourself without drones to work with.¡± She appreciated showmanship, but the little queen¡¯s antics risked distracting the viewers from her lesson. ¡°In primitive times, the Gosporian planet was a battleground of amalgamated swarms, titans that shook the planet and fought battles that shattered mountains! Alas, all good things come to an end¡ªand eventually one queen rose to rule the planet. This single queen led a matriarchal monarchy, mother to daughter, generation by generation.¡± The queen hissed threats under her breath in an endless stream¡ªshe sure was spunky! ¡°For thousands of years, a queen birthed a single daughter, transferred her knowledge and died. Letting the fledgeling take control of the planet. Upon the onboarding of their civilisation onto WARGAMES! The planetary queen birthed six daughters, and now, five titans stride a new world.¡± The queen froze. Priorita jiggled close. ¡°Yep! Only five! One of your sisters¡­ Well the viewers all know what happened to her!¡± She giggled as she oozed away to the next contestant. This one was much more pliable, answering questions and giving some context to their actions. How boring. The show progressed just as a thousand episodes had before. She always enjoyed these little interludes. An opportunity to look into the eyes of the contestants. One of them would eventually stand and fight at her side. She circled the stage, explaining to the viewers each of the surviving contestants unique strategies and bizarre physiology. One by one she presented them, until she could take it no longer. The delegate from the human civilisation remained shrouded in shadow. It was incredible. For the first time in history, a pathetic, unqualified, pacifist civilization had made it through stage one. Without him and his people, her narrative would feel incomplete. This year¡¯s ratings would be record breaking! Shadow evaporated as a pillar of light beamed down on a woman, and Priorita immediately paused the recording. She tripled in size and boiled bright red as membranous spikes erupted all over. ¡°WHERE IS HE, WHERE IS MY FAVOURITE?¡± The question roared into a billion clones. ¡°My apologies, Prime. I am the self in charge of this contestant. My human female has the highest kill count of her civilisation. It is her right to be upon the stage. Her incredible actions in the Mesa biome have capt¡ª¡± Priorita popped the clone with a thought, ending its life. How fucking dare she. She requested the favourite. She wanted the favourite. Her word was that of God. Microseconds stretched, the silence gnawing at her patience. Were her lesser selves really so cowardly? Her form boiled, grew, doubled and divided. A vermilion clone scooted away across the stage, screaming. Priorita raced after it. She formed a vacuole and engulfed the clone in a phagosome. Its death calmed her. All was silent. ¡°Apologies Prime¡± ¡°What for, Dear?¡± Another pause. ¡°I am the self in charge of monitoring the Human named Allan. Unfortunately, his HP hit zero just as stage one ended. By our rules, he is considered dead.¡± ¡°Oh my!¡± Replied Priorita Prime. ¡°Is that it? You had me worried for a moment!¡± Another pause. ¡°Implement a rule, dear. Apply a full status heal on all contestants who completed stage one. Disable replay on his final moments. Include our Allan in the surviving population.¡± ¡°This won¡¯t go unnoticed.¡± Whispered one of her clones¡ªjust before she popped it into oblivion. ¡°As you will, Prime.¡± Replied Allan¡¯s handler. Priorita Prime considered popping this clone too. It¡¯s behaviour deviated dangerously from her will, but she decided to spare it¡ªfor now. It had worked with the favourite, and by extension also had her favour. She absorbed a multitude of visual packets from the singularity, refreshing her memory of this human female. On with the show! Mei Feng: Human Female Kills: 127 Chapter 15: On Earth Chapter 15: On Earth ¡°I will not have my daughter shackled to that implanted animal!¡± Dr. Tamara Woo-Smith stood from her desk and slapped the French delegate, regret flashing through her immediately. Her hold on these people was tenuous, and losing her composure would only give them another weakness to exploit. The burly Frenchman raised a fist, and for a moment, she thought he might strike her. She hoped he would try. But one look at the guards flanking her desk dissuaded the notion. It was amazing how quickly their veneer of civility had eroded under the threat of alien harvesting. The delegate spun, his nose in the air and the red-soles of his Louboutins clicked against the tiled floor as he stalked away. She focused on the positives. Stage One and the Round Table episode¡ªhosted by the horrific Priorita¡ªhad aired barely an hour earlier. It had proven to be a valuable source of information, as the alien delighted in exposing the contestants¡¯ secrets. Tamara¡¯s feed pinged repeatedly with summaries and observations sent from the drafted viewers. She let them stack up. They could wait until they were compared, compiled and verified. She clicked her tongue and pressed on the lump of bone on her wrist. Such an inefficient process. She and her team had drafted a million of the most intelligent citizens¡ªten viewers per contestant¡ªto document anything that might benefit humanity. But their accounts varied significantly, and their interpretations of events were frustratingly inconsistent. A chime drew her attention to the door, where a small man with a black bowl cut and ludicrously thick glasses waited. He danced from foot to foot. She pressed a button and the door whispered into the ceiling, permitting him entry. He almost ran to her and a bioengineered guard more than three times his weight stepped between them to block his passage. Tamara gestured for him to be let through. She sat at her desk as he spoke. ¡°We¡¯ve done it! We cracked the replay function, Doctor.¡± Tamara raised an eyebrow, but inside, her heart raced. Hidden by the desk, her leg went into overdrive. ¡°You¡¯re sure this time?¡± ¡°Yes, Doctor. Check your feed.¡± She held his eye for a moment longer. The department had claimed success twice over the past few days. Twice she had been disappointed. With their civilisation at stake, she would have to make an example of this man if he disappointed her again. The Priorita allowed anyone to live-stream any contestant, at any time. But only published a few, select replays. If they could replay at will, then they could verify their viewers observations. Tamara opened the blinking video file. A semi-transparent overlay whisked up over the room and Tamara was treated to a recording of the Round Table that had just aired. She minimised it, and checked the official WARGAMES! feed published by Priorita. No such footage was available. Experimentally, she sped up and rewound the footage, finally settling on the point just before the human representative, Mei Feng was unveiled. A reported pause¡ªa stutter in the footage¡ªhad sparked early discussion. Frame by frame she replayed the moment until she caught it. A flash of crimson ignited within the depths of the green Priorita. The next frame it was gone, and the green cube was several pixels to the left of her original position. She snipped the footage and sent it off for analysis. She pressed against her wrist, her voice calm. ¡°How?¡± The little man bounced on the balls of his feet, almost tap-dancing in excitement. ¡°We have been trying to hack the source feed.¡± ¡°Trying and failing. I know.¡± Replied Tamara. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°That was our mistake! Their technology is sophisticated and powerful. It uses a different structure to ours.¡± He sounded defensive. ¡°We had little time and less chance to defeat it.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t ask for excuses, Mr?¡± ¡°Wei¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t ask for excuses, Mr Wei. I asked how. My time is limited and valuable.¡± ¡°Yes, yes, apologies.¡± He made a little bow. ¡°Hacking their technology was impossible¡ªuntil I realised that once the data reaches our hybridised implants, it was converted into something we can process. So, I requisitioned prisoners slated for execution. We drugged them, opened their skulls, and attached electrodes to their visual cortex. As long as they live, we can stream their vision directly to our computers. The footage can then be easily saved and transmitted to any other device.¡± Tamara pressed hard at her wrist, her mind whirling. The prisoners were already as good as dead. This ensured their deaths had meaning. It was the right thing to do, wasn¡¯t it? ¡°How many?¡± ¡°Doctor?¡± She clenched her jaw. Why did she always have to repeat herself? ¡°How many prisoners do you have recording footage?¡± ¡°We performed the procedure on ten, but three died.¡± ¡°I want a recorder online for the top one hundred contestants by the end of the day, Mr Wei. One for every human within the week. And a backup for each within the month.¡± She signed the authorisation order and pinged his implant. ¡°I have elevated your privileges, reproductive rights and clearance. Good job Mr Wei. See it done.¡± The small man bowed and almost ran from the room. Onto the next agenda item. She sent a meeting invite to the other 12 members of the UE Governance Committee. While she waited, Tamara pulled up a recording. Priorita had sent it upon the completion of the Round Table. As usual, her honey-sweet tone made Tamara want to pull her hair out. ¡°Congratulations on surviving Stage One! Wasn¡¯t it just thrilling? We hope you enjoyed it as much as we did! Now, we know you must be itching to see how your contestants fare in Stage Two, but first I have some updates! The active WARGAMES! population has dropped from an initial 80 Billion to a much more manageable 7 Billion contestants. To all of you kicking up a fuss about the five kill minimum; too bad! If your warriors had been more entertaining, then I wouldn¡¯t have had to eradicate them.¡± Tamara brought up the population widget her programming team had developed. Human Population: 47,222 She remembered when that number had been 100,000. That wasn¡¯t so long ago. It could be worse, she told herself, but the cold comfort didn¡¯t take hold. Considering the 8% or 9% total survival rate other planets had managed, it was incredible. Priorita burbled on, her words summarised as text in Tamara¡¯s HUD. ¡°Now this is important, so pay attention! At the end of each stage, points are awarded to each civilisation, depending on your contestants¡¯ performance. But they don¡¯t get the points, you do! This is an opportunity for you to support your warriors in whatever way you think best! Half the points will be given to the rulers of each civilisation for use at their discretion. The other half will be available to be used by popular planetary vote! You can choose to spend these on items in the newly opened WARGAMES! shop. Or you can pay to transport items that you have manufactured from your own world. So feel free to send your favourite contestant some exciting gear or costumes to make them really stand out! But remember! All items will be audited to ensure they don¡¯t run contrary to the spirit of the game!¡± Tamara opened a second tab that showed a list of achievements. Humanity had dozens. None had explanations as to why they had been awarded. War-Points!: 187 The achievements were coded into Gold, Silver, Bronze and White. They ranged from the obvious; Protected Civilisation Bonus¡ª25 points. Round One Survival Bonus¡ª5 points. 40% Survival Bonus¡ª15 points. To the bizarre; Omnivore!¡ª5 points. Mole-WoMeN¡ª1 point. Kill it with fire!¡ª1 point. To the concerning; Is that allowed?¡ª1 point. Huh, I guess we left that laying about!¡ª1 point. That looks infected!¡ª1 point. Mama¡¯s favourite¡ª10 points. Seeing the white ¡®Huh, I guess we left that laying about!¡ª1¡¯ achievement reminded her of Ariel, and the earlier confrontation with her father Jaq Du Bouchard. If the man wasn¡¯t such an asshole, she would have more sympathy for his situation. If that daughter of his hadn¡¯t flagrantly ignored their directions and drawn Priorita¡¯s attention, he might have earned a reward instead of censure. Still, she acknowledged it was inappropriate for the girl, a Grade 1 Citizen to be stuck running around with an implanted Drudge, regardless of the man¡¯s performance in the game. She eyed humanity¡¯s single golden achievement: Tourist Slayer!¡ª50. That particular mess could wait for another day. The chatroom icon on her HUD blinked. All members present. She waved the guards from her room, took a long, slow breath and entered the meeting. It was time to choose who would save humanity. Chapter 16: What Gives You the Right? Chapter 16: What Gives You the Right? I awoke screaming, as all about me, people swore and jumped away. "Putain de merde!" Ariel glared at me from a few feet away. Her hand rested on her dagger. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you?¡± I staggered in a circle, taking in my surroundings. My mind throbbed. I remembered the darkness. The red bar ticking down to zero and then something, a room? Fire? A red planet seen from orbit? But it was gone. We were in a throne room, like something out of medieval Earth. Velvet banners hung in rows from the ceiling, and tapestries covered the walls, while a dozen roaring fireplaces filled the space with flickering gold¡ªthe whole kit. At the end of the room was a raised throne, with a banner behind it that showed a globe of the earth. A group had approached it, inspecting the throne form all angles. As I watched, an enormous man with a thick moustache climbed the two stairs and sat down. I tried to speak to Ariel, to ask her what had happened, but the words came out as a garbled mess. It felt like my nerves weren¡¯t connected right. I braced my hands on my knees, hyperventilating as my mind snapped back. I remembered dying. I grasped where Gabe had stabbed me in the chest. My shirt was still wet with blood, torn into tatters, but all signs of the wound beneath were gone. I looked at the blood staining my fingers¡ªmy blood. Had it been real? My armoured left was still infected with a spiderweb of black veins, why hadn¡¯t it returned to normal? ¡°I¡¯m healed?¡± I muttered, finally finding the words. Ariel looked at me oddly. ¡°Yeah. Obviously. Priorita said that we would be fully healed between stages.¡± ¡°Priorita?¡± Who the hell was that? It was like I had missed a slice of time that everyone else had lived. ¡°The green jelly cube alien that runs this shitshow¡­ Are you feeling okay, Allan? They explained all of this during the Round Table.¡± I had no idea what a round table was, but that cinched it, sure as shit. I¡¯d missed something important. ¡°You¡¯re going to have to fill me in, kid. I didn¡¯t catch whatever the round table was. The last thing I remember is bleeding out on the jungle floor with Gabe glued to my chest.¡± Ariel frowned, but whatever she was about to say was interrupted by the saccharine voice of the showrunner, Priorita? ¡°Goooooood Morning Everyone and welcome to Stage Two! Now, I¡¯m sure you¡¯re all just dying to know what the theme of Stage Two is ¡ª and almost 73 Billion of you have already! Tehehe¡ª But not to worry, the wait is almost over!¡± My mind reeled. 73 billion. ¡°Over the next few minutes, I will explain the rules of this stage and also make some announcements regarding Stage One Prizes. So pay attention!¡± A drumroll, like one from a cheesy game show, played, and I jumped as digital fireworks exploded. Beneath it all, I could hear Priorita breathing heavily. Wasn¡¯t she some kind of jelly creature? Did she even need to breathe? ¡°As we all know, the theme of this years WARGAMES! is ¡®War Through the Ages.¡¯ In stage one we explored the primitive, tribal era of your civilisations. It showcased your natural, physical abilities and showed that early on, strength and savagery won out. But you, dear contestants are more than mere beasts! And it was your minds, and collective efforts that allowed you to rise and dominate your planets.¡± Behind her words, the theme music was building to a crescendo and it made the hair on my arms rise. People whispered and gathered into clumps, their tribes from the previous stage I realised. Ariel and I were left in our own pocket. ¡°In Stage Two, our surviving contestant species have been amalgamated into groups of 5% of their remaining populating and you will be pitted against four other civilisations.¡± The rumble of millions of voices rose behind her words. Cheering, shouting, screaming. ¡°That¡¯s right folks! Stage two is a WARGAMES! Classic called: Capture the flag!¡± Trumpets blasted as a huge digital banner unfurled in my HUD. Golden letters ten feet high rippled in a breeze that wasn¡¯t there. ¡®Capture the Flag.¡¯ ¡°To win this stage, you will need to gather the enemy team¡¯s flag from their throne room and transport it to your own. The first team to collect all five flags will move on. Any survivors of a losing team will be¡­ Recycled.¡± She let out a deep, throaty chuckle. Around me, the whispering rose in volume as arguments broke out within the groups. Fear had that effect. ¡°This stage will be divided into two sections. The build phase will last for one standard galactic month. During this time, an impassable border will isolate each civilisation, preventing conflict between contestants. You can use this time to fortify your position, develop battle plans or do anything else you think might help you win the floor!¡± This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. My HUD pinged with a torrent of details as pillars of light descended to bathe me, and everyone else in the room. Some of the text fuzzed and changed so quickly I thought I must have imagined it. What I thought had said ¡®Builder¡¯ now read ¡®Adventurer.¡¯ ¡°You have been randomly assigned a role to play in your burgeoning civilisation. Different roles have abilities and restrictions. See your HUD for details. Wargame Vaults will be randomly distributed across the territories and these can be challenged for city building resources, buffs and special loot! This is the primary method to grow your settlements, but oh boy! It¡¯s gonna be dangerous!¡± My neck prickled, and I wondered if the showrunner¡ª this Priorita¡ª was still meddling with me. ¡°Classes have been unlocked, and a role has been randomely assigned. See the relevant tab for more information! "Depending on your performance on stage one, you may have rewards waiting for you. Isn''t that exciting? They''re like presents! Check your notifications to see what you have been awarded. "Lastly, I know you¡¯ve all been itching for this!" She let out a little giggle. "The level cap has been raised from 2 to 25.¡± A tingle ran through my body, curling my toes as I remembered the sensation of levelling the first time. I eyed the flaming skull icon of my Predator perk. ¡°WOW. That was a lot of information! I know most of you are too stupid to take in any more today, so I¡¯ll leave it there and check in to highlight important rules every morning. For summaries of what I have just said, as well as more rules, check your UI. That¡¯s it from me! Enjoy stage two of WARGAMES!¡± The theme song played so loud that dust fell from the ceiling. A mess of boxes filled my vision and I tried to minimise as much of the clutter in my UI so I could see. I was tense. The feeling that something terrible was coming rose like a wave. After a moment, I realised what felt so wrong. After days of that guitar screaming in my ears, I had awoken with the predator perk disabled. The room was filled with conversation, a tangle of voices as my fellow humans discussed what Priorita had just explained. The crash of gong shut us up and drew my attention to the throne where the moustached man waited. He sat ramrod straight, like he had a stick up his arse and gestured to a black haired, black eyed lady in her middle years ¡ª who struck the gong again. ¡°My fellow humans! My name is Victor Mayfair. Some of you may have heard of me.¡± It took a moment, but I recognised him from the news-streams. Victor was the son of an advanced pharmaceutical company¡¯s founder, who had shunned the corporate life and turned politician. Now he dictated health policy across the planet. Truly people of all walks of life had been pulled into this game. Victor Mayfair: Level 2 Human. 23 Unlike most of the people in the room, his name was coloured in bronze. ¡°What¡¯s the number beneath his name mean?¡± I muttered to Ariel. She frowned. ¡°Did you really not pay any attention to the Round Table? It¡¯s his kill count.¡± I looked about at the folks nearby. Almost all of them showed between 5 and 9. ¡°I didn¡¯t see any damn Round Table or whatever¡± I hissed back at the kid. A middle aged lady with a fat tummy turned and shushed me, but the her eyes flicked above my head and something there made her eyes widen. She let out a squeak and scurried away. I brought up my HUD. Kills: 73 Yeah that would do it. ¡°And what about the bronze name-tag?¡± I looked at Ariel¡¯s name and realised that what I thought had been white, like the majority of the people in the room, was actually silver. ¡°It¡¯s their personal ranking. Viewers across the universe cast votes at the end of each stage. Bronze means you¡¯ve been ranked in the top 15% of your species. Silver in the top 10% and Gold¡ª¡± her eyes flickered up. ¡°Top 1%¡± Ariel looked like she wanted to say something but Victor rose to stand before the throne, the flag of earth rippling in an artificial breeze behind him. I had to admit he cut an impressive figure. ¡°It is my privilege to lead this faction of Humanity. Together we will conquer the aliens that threaten our homes.¡± ¡°Who made him leader?¡± I muttered and Ariel huffed a laugh. ¡°You want the job?¡± She asked. ¡°Fuck no.¡± Victor was droning on, something about creating a list of assigned roles and identifying synergies with available classes. It was all Political mumbo-jumbo as far I could tell. Setting up a committee that would tell us what to pick. It was the same old story, they wanted to control us. I brought up the Class tab in my HUD. There was a massive list of options, like hundreds of them. A few caught my eye. Knife-Fighter, Trapper, Armourer, and Weaponsmith were all marked as common, listed in white text that stood out from the grey¡ªbasic options. Three in brighter colours caught my eye. Class Electrician: Rare Adulterer: Rare Born Predator: Special Yeah, no bloody way I was choosing either of those second two. I clicked on Electrician, hoping for more information¡ªand nearly shat myself when a bunch of digital confetti and fireworks burst around me. It was deafening in the silence and the whole room turned to look at me. The middle-aged woman who had shushed me before gave me a withering look. From atop the podium Victor scowled, but he wiped the expression from his face so quickly that I thought I had imagined it. ¡°Er, Sorry¡± I muttered ¡°Finger slipped.¡± My words echoed. Everyone stared. After a moment I straightened my spine and met Victor¡¯s eyes. Fuck these guys, it was an accident. Victor cleared his throat. ¡°The committee will ensure that no more talents are wasted.¡± He tried to stare me down and I scowled right back. What fucking right did he have? Slowly, the room turned to focus upon him once more. Ariel punched me in the ribs. But said nothing. I thought there was amusement in her eyes. I looked back at my class tab and froze. Class: Electrician-Predator*: Unique What the hell. I tapped the * for more information. Priorita¡¯s voice popped into my head. ¡°If you had read your achievements and rewards tab as instructed, I wouldn¡¯t have to explain this! But here we are. As a special reward for defeating a tourist on stage one, you receive a second class! An unexpected interaction between the titles has resulted in a Unique, combination class being formed. Isn¡¯t that exciting! Usually these aren¡¯t available until stage five! Lucky you!¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t choose predator. I don¡¯t want it.¡± I growled. Drawing attention from those nearby. Priorita snorted and cut the communication. I looked at my info tab. Allan Alberghini: Level 2 Human Class: Electrician-Predator Role: Adventurer Kills: 73 My name was written in resplendent gold. Chapter 17: The Ashen Relic Chapter 17: The Ashen Relic I tried to listen to what Victor had to say. I really did. But he was spouting the same old shit¡ªthe same narrative that had dictated my life on earth. I knew what men like him would do in the name of achieving control. An image flashed into my mind. A car on fire. Elana''s screams. The way she thrashed in my arms, fighting to reach the burning wreck that held her youngest daughter. People like Victor would do anything to maintain their control. I tuned him out and dove into my notifications. I¡¯d not had a chance to investigate them since before my fight with Gabe and there were dozens of them, with more pinging up every moment. If they appeared like this during combat I would be in real trouble. After a few moments searching I found a toggle that would temporarily condense everything into the rim of my HUD, clearing my view. That would be useful. A short, pale man with a neck as thick as his blocky head glowered at me from across the room. I wasn¡¯t sure what his problem was. I cocked an eyebrow in question. He cracked his knuckles and smiled. I¡¯d always found it easy to make friends back on earth, but I was getting nothing but hostility from this room. A slight, woman with purple streaks in her black hair stood at his side with a hand through the man¡¯s belt loop like she held the collar of an attack dog. Something Victor said caught my attention and I turned back to him. ¡°You in this throne-room are the chosen few. Those who wait outside for our orders will rely on us for strength, direction and wisdom. As on Earth, they can not be trusted with autonomy.¡± That seemed like bullshit to me. But all around, people were nodding, straightening, muttering. I glanced down at the kid but she avoided my eye. When I looked back up at Victor, he had a little smile on his face. I took a closer look at the people around me. Satisfied smiles, pride and faint signs of cosmetic surgery. These people weren¡¯t like me and Ariel. What were we doing here? I looked down at Ariel, now cleaned of blood and mud. Took in her posture, remembered the way she spoke, how comfortable she was ordering me about. I had thought that was just because she was a teenage girl, and she thought the world hers. But the kid had secrets. I let out a deep breath and pulled up my menus. I was getting a damn headache. My class menu fizzled as I opened it, lines of text erasing, rewriting and changing before my eyes. I faintly heard a whispered argument, followed by a giggle. Then a spike of pain made me hiss. Tingles coursed through me from scalp to toes. Class: Stormprowler (Electrician x Predator Hybrid) *Unique A fusion of arcane electrical mastery and primal predatory instincts. Perks: Complete Circuit (Passive)¡ªChaining attacks results in an escalating stat bonus. Break the circuit and the bonus will be lost. Predator (Passive) ¡ª A predator should be greater than its prey. + 10% all stats. + Rise to the Occasion: When facing an enemy of a higher level, base stats will increase by 5% per difference in level (Max 100% boost). Abilities: Storm Sense (Passive) ¨C Sense electrical disturbances, predict enemy movements based on nerve impulses and view the flow of electricity. Rapid Repair¡ª Use MP to bridge circuits and repair complex technology Soldertouch ¡ª Superheat your fingertips to weld, or solder circuits¡­ or burn what you touch. It was a whole lot of nerd shit, the kind I would have closed out without even reading just a few days ago. Dying had changed my perspective and now the description gave me a bit of a thrill. I shifted from foot to foot, feeling the latent power in my muscles. I felt strong, the world was clear and bright and my mind crackled with focus. When I closed my eyes, I could still faintly feel the people around me. But a sense of unease lingered. This predator business that Priorita was pushing me towards felt like a trap. I minimised the menu and realised that Ariel was staring at me. Her hair had risen like there was an impending lightning strike and it hung about her head as a golden halo. She cocked a brow and I shrugged. I¡¯d tell her my secrets when she told me hers. Victor was still droning on¡ªsomething about the value of unity and sacrifice for the greater good. I snorted, he wasn¡¯t planning on sacrificing shit. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. I remembered the vow I had made under the influence of my Hatchling Predator perk. I¡¯d promised to kill the Aliens that had torn me from my home. I¡¯d promised to kill the humans who had controlled my life even before this had began. The idea had seemed ridiculous once the perk was deactivated, but as I listened to Victor¡¯s words the fires of my anger were stoked. My achievements and awards screen opened next. There were dozens¡ª stacked neatly and organised by rarity. Most were white, common achievements that supplied me with more red, green and blue balls. With torches, food, an assortment of odds and ends. To my relief, the last box finally supplied me with some boots. I had ditched my double pluggers days ago, and had felt no desire to explore this nightmare bare footed. Among the uncommon achievements, I received a ring that would glow red-hot if removed, a spool of copper wire, and a new pair of jeans. According to the description the jeans were enchanted and would provide protection from slashing attacks. I was glad to receive them. The ones I had been wearing when I was transported here hung loose, exposing most of one thigh and the edge of my boxers. Nobody wanted to watch a man fight aliens in his underwear. I clicked to equip the clothing, drawing a few glances from those around me. The purple haired lady¡ªher hand still through the belt loop of her thick-necked attack-dog glowered at me so I flipped them off. That left just one achievement. The one that I¡¯d received for being in the tribe that killed Gabe. This was in blazing gold font and I got the impression that it was a big deal. I clicked it and a cartoon treasure chest appeared in my HUD, sparkling with gemstones. Priorita cheered and gushed¡ªher voice echoing in my skull as the lid opened and golden light poured forth. ¡°Wowee dear viewers, this is a rare treat! Dear Allan here has received a legendary prize for his involvement in the killing of the Balgan Tourist, Gabe!¡± ¡°Allan!¡± Hissed Ariel, elbowing me in the ribs. ¡°What are you doing? You¡¯re glowing.¡± I looked down at my hands, and sure enough, a soft golden radiance emanated from my skin. ¡°Uh, don¡¯t worry about it. I¡¯m pretty sure it will sort itself out once I finish with my prizes.¡± She sighed. I tuned her out. Priorita was still yapping away, and I had missed a little of what she had said. From his throne, Victor had stopped speaking and was staring at me. I shrugged and flapped my hand for him to continue. A little crease I never would have spotted if not for my boosted stats furrowed his brow. The nearby groups were staring at me again, but Priorita¡¯s tone had grown waspish so I tuned them out to focus on her. ¡°As I was saying! Under normal circumstances an epic prize would normally be awarded to a contestant for the death of Tourist. But! Considering Gabe¡¯s long and successful history in WARGAMES! AND Allan¡¯s status as a member of a protected species. AND the fact that this all occurred on the first stage¡­ The award for this achievement has been enhanced from Epic, to Epic+, to Ex! Epic and finally, all the way to Legendary! This is one of only 7 Legendary achievements awarded so far this season!¡± She continued speaking, practically bubbling with excitement. But as soon as I saw what was contained in the chest it felt as though I¡¯d been plunged deep underwater. I couldn¡¯t hear. Couldn¡¯t see. There was nothing but the crucifix. My Grandma¡¯s crucifix. The one I had found all those years ago, hidden in the shrine beneath her stairs. ¡°Is this a joke?¡± I barely breathed the words. How could they know? Were they in my head? Reading my mind? The implications staggered me. ¡°Is this a fucking joke?¡± I said it more loudly, cutting through Victors words. The room turned to look at me. ¡°Allan!¡± Hissed Ariel. But I ignored her. Fury coursed through me, the emotion wild like when I was a child. Victor stood from where he had sat on his throne. He didn¡¯t bother to hide his anger. ¡°Do you have a problem with my leadership, Allan?¡± A worried susurrus of voices filled the room as Victor¡¯s control over the assembled mass slipped. I slashed a gaze at him, but couldn¡¯t find the words. Couldn¡¯t explain that I didn¡¯t give a shit about him or the crap he was spouting. The crucifix dropped into my hand as I focussed on it¡ªfingers tracing the ridges and the cool red gemstones set along its length. Each detail was burned into my memory. Looking upwards, I roared the question. I knew the alien bitch could hear me no matter the volume, but I couldn¡¯t hold the words back. People scattered away, leaving Ariel and I in a wide clearing. Victor and some of his cronies had half descended from the platform that held the throne, but froze there. Muttering in my mind. Multiple identical voices arguing. I caught snippets. ¡°What do you¡ª¡± ¡°Has he checked¡ª¡± ¡°But Prime¡ª ¡°Which of us modelled the¡ª¡± ¡°¡ªThought he¡¯d like this?¡± The last phrase struck me. ¡°You thought I¡¯d like this? What the fuck is wrong with you? They killed her, they burned her for this!¡± I threw the crucifix with all my strength. Only realising that it was attached to a chain at the last moment. It flew for about a foot, then disappeared in a shower of sparks that sprayed over a tribe of four. I felt a weight settle around my neck. A description appeared in my HUD. The Ashen Relic (Legendary) Soulbound Effect: Soul Consumption I couldn''t breathe. The heat from the fireplaces bathed me, too real, too close. Grandma and little Lilly. Both burned. Both my fault. Staggering back, I clutched at my throat. The Ashen Relic was ice-cold, but the phantom heat still seared my memories. The weight of it dragged at my neck, suffocating. I ripped at it, clawing, trying to tear it off. Soulbound. I couldn¡¯t remove it. The world narrowed. The pressure behind my eyes built. Whispers swirled around me. Judging. Watching. ¡°Allan?¡± Ariel¡¯s voice was small. Careful. I clenched my fists. The Predator Perk¡¯s flaming skull pulsed in my HUD¡ªwaiting. One tap, and it would burn everything away. A dozen Priorita voices whispered, chattered and giggled in my head. Victor¡¯s voice sliced through it all. ¡°You see?¡± His voice was steady, perfectly controlled. ¡°This is why our guidance is necessary.¡± A ripple moved through the room. The hushed voices turned thoughtful. Uncertain. He was twisting the moment, shaping it like wet clay. I looked up at him. Victor was already stepping forward¡ªnot rushing, but measured. Like he¡¯d been waiting for this exact moment. His eyes scanned me, calculating. Waiting for me to break. I saw it then. He wanted this. He wanted me unstable. He needed a villain. I let out a sharp, humourless laugh. ¡°Yeah, fuck this.¡± Victor hesitated. That wasn¡¯t what he had expected. I turned to Ariel, my breathing slowing. My hands still shook, but I forced my voice steady. ¡°Let¡¯s go, kid.¡± She hesitated. A flicker of doubt. Her gaze flicked between Victor and me. A second. Two. Then she nodded. I stepped away. The Ashen Relic still burned against my chest, its weight a silent warning. The flaming skull in my HUD pulsed once. Waiting. Victor let us leave. That told me everything. Chapter 18: Recycled Chapter 18: Recycled ¡°Merde, Allan! What the hell are you doing?¡± I stormed out of the throne room, my boots hammering against the stone corridors. Ariel was hot on my heels, her voice sharp with frustration. I glanced back and was surprised to discover that more than a dozen of Victor¡¯s so-called Chosen Ones had followed. ¡°Who were you shouting at? Allan? Wait a minute and talk¡ª¡± She cut off as I pushed open the enormous iron-reinforced gates and we got our first look outside. Fury still burned under my skin, but the sight before me doused it in shock. "Merde." Ariel¡¯s voice was breathless. "What the¡ª?" I didn¡¯t have the words. ¡°Well, fock me. Would ya look at that.¡± A gangly, red-haired man with adult acne slipped past me, craning his neck to look up. ¡°We¡¯re in a bloody cave then?¡± His Irish brogue was strong enough to saddle and ride. Ropes of luminous vines spiderwebbed the ceiling hundreds of feet above our heads, outlining the cavern in shades of phosphorescent green, blue and red. It was hard to tell, but it had to be miles long, and just as wide. I took several steps beyond the portal, my neck craning as I took in the sight. ¡°Quite the view, eh?¡± I jumped, barely stopping myself from striking out. A woman stood beside me, her expression relaxed, completely at ease. She wore animal skins like it was the most natural thing in the world. ¡°Yeah, I guess,¡± I muttered, muscles still tense. Ready. Just in case. ¡°You spawn in the castle then?¡± ¡°What gave it away?¡± She cocked a brow and flicked a glance to the open door where a dozen waited. ¡°She¡¯s not an idiot, lad.¡± Replied the Irishman. I glanced at his name and kill count. Patrick O''Reilly: Level 2 Human. Class: Not Assigned Role: Adventurer Kills: 9 ¡°Could you not get in?¡± He asked. The woman in animal skins snorted. ¡°What gave it away?¡± I checked her info. This naming system was damn convenient. Radha Choudhary: Level 2 Human. Class: Chemical Engineer (Basic) Role: Researcher Kills: 8 I could hear Ariel muttering to herself in French, the words barely a hiss. ¡°So what¡¯s in there boys, and why weren¡¯t we invited to the party?¡± Asked Radha. Her dark eyes twinkled.¡± ¡°Eh, you¡¯ve missed a full half o¡¯ nothing, lass.¡± Radha gave me a look. ¡°Can you translate that for me Goldenboy?¡± I grunted with amusement. I¡¯d worked with a bunch of Irish chaps on constructions sites and had a fair idea of the slang. But Patrick beat me to it. ¡°I¡¯m saying you¡¯ve missed nothing lass. Just a bunch of politicians working their jaws like the world ain¡¯t gone and ended.¡± He gave a crooked grin. ¡°They¡¯ll be at it for hours yet. I saw my chance to escape and took it.¡± He tilted his head to me. Radha gave me an assessing look, then nodded. ¡°Glad to hear it. And the rest of your group? Were you a tribe on the previous stage? The largest I¡¯ve heard of was a team of four.¡± She was asking a lot of questions and giving little in return. ¡°Non. We are a tribe of two.¡± Came Ariel¡¯s voice. ¡°Well look at you two. Gold and Silver. Too expensive for my tastes!¡± She studied me, like a scientist observing a particularly stubborn lab rat. "Not bad Goldenboy.¡± She said. "Keep surviving, and look me up some time.¡± She gave a signal to a group of four that I hadn¡¯t seen. It didn¡¯t surprise me though. Somehow I''d known they were there. After a moment, I realised I had sensed them, or their nerve impulses or whatever, with my new class specific skill. The group passed through the great wooden doors to the castle, the dozen that had followed me parted as Radha''s group vanished within. We spent what felt like the next hour or so exploring the town about the castle. Most of the people who had followed me from Victor¡¯s throne room peeled away as we walked, but the irishman Patrick, or Paddy as he preferred had stayed. Ariel was withdrawn. Her eyes flashed as she dove through her menus and she jabbered away to nobody in French. Paddy filled the silence with commentary. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. I knew there had to be over two thousand of my fellow humans here in this town, but it didn¡¯t feel like it. I¡¯d grown up in the suburbs of a city of millions. The buildings that lined the street, made of rough-hewn stone and shingles, were like something out of a history hologram. ¡°What¡¯s the plan then lad? Or are you just looking to stretch your legs?¡± Asked Paddy. The question caught me off guard, having come right at the end of a story about when he and one of his brothers had broken into a bakery to eat pastries. Apparently Ireland had a lot of ancient architecture, and the bakery had looked a lot like these buildings. I started to answer him, but a question struck me. ¡°How old were you when you broke into the bakery?¡± ¡°Dunno lad, maybe fifteen or sixteen. Old enough to sneak out o¡¯ my parents house. Young enough that I didn¡¯t know bakers wake up before the crack-of-dawn. My Ma tanned my hide for that one make no mistake.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t your implant stop you?¡± Paddy frowned. ¡°Implant? Who¡¯d want to run a program like that?¡± He chuckled. ¡°You must¡¯ve had strict parents, eh? Bit of a naughty lad, were you?¡± His words made no sense. I¡¯d been implanted at nine. For those first few years, the AI had been hypersensitive. Any hint of deviant behaviour¡ªany surge in emotion¡ªand it would flood my system with chems. Conditioning me. Training me. Was it not the same for everyone? We turned from a narrow, cobblestoned alleyway back into the main thoroughfare. A crowd had formed near a raised iron portcullis that led beyond the castle-town walls. We approached, and I realised a ring had formed. Within, two people fought. I clicked the axe icon on my hotbar and summoned Ebonrage. It was a comforting weight in my hands, but without my Hatchling Predator perk active, no surge of strength came with it. Shit. I¡¯d hoped my new class would bypass that restriction. I eyed the flaming skull. No. That wasn''t me. Ariel put a hand on my shoulder. ¡°Hold up Allan, I don¡¯t think they¡¯re fighting.¡± I stalked closer, tense. There was none of the shouting I¡¯d expect from a crowd watching people fight to the death. None of the terrifying cacophony I remembered from the clearing on the previous stage. Still, I kept Ebonrage out. As we drew closer I picked out words. ¡°¡ªWith your lead foot ahead you can make yourself a smaller target. See? Art, take a swing to demonstrate. No not like that. Swing properly. Don¡¯t be scared.¡± Either the software Priorita used to translate into English for me was having a hard time, or this bloke spoke with a Chinese accent that boarded on intelligibility. Guan Longwei: Level 3 Human. Class: Swordsman Role: Builder Kills: 17 He made small movements, avoiding the clumsy thrusts and chops of a sweaty, middle-aged man with a gut that wobbled with each blow. ¡°You see? He makes big motions, but I only need small steps. His effort is wasted,¡± said Guan Longwei. He stepped to the side, dodging a thrust, and as quick as a striking snake his sword was at the mans throat. We joined the crowd, watching as the swordsman demonstrated several pieces of footwork. But before long the clang of a clocktower signalled the end. ¡°See his level?¡± Murmured Ariel at my side. ¡°Yep.¡± An ember of anger had flared at the sight. He was the first level 3 I¡¯d seen. ¡°Didn¡¯t Priorita say that there would be no conflict in the build phase? That we were isolated from the other civilisations?¡± ¡°Yep.¡± I replied. Her real question went unasked. If there were no enemies, who had he killed? ¡°Be ready.¡± I muttered. With the lesson ended, the crowd¡¯s focus shifted. Conversation springing up as they dispersed. A tall, blonde lady with the kind of pouting lips I¡¯d always had a weakness for bumped into me as she left the ring. She half apologised, glanced at the name above my head and let out a squeak. She bumped into folks as she fled. I sighed. The commotion drew eyes and before long a new ring had formed, with us at the centre. I gripped Ebonrage. ¡°Christ lad, they¡¯re on you like flies to shit eh?¡± Paddy¡¯s words were not quiet, and drew a few chuckles from the folks ringing us. ¡°Non.¡± Replied Ariel. ¡°Like butterflies to flowers.¡± More laughter, and the tension that filled the air was broken. Guan Longwei slipped through the ring, raising a hand in greeting. ¡°Goodness me, both a silver and a golden warrior. We are blessed to have such esteemed members in our company.¡± He glanced at Paddy, whose name was white. Then to his hair. ¡°And an honourable red too. Truly blessed.¡± He offered a hand to shake, but I noticed that he had his front foot forward, offering a small target as he had just taught. I took the offered hand, finding his handshake firm. But I was tense, and released it quickly. If this man had killed a human so early in the second stage then we were in real danger. To Ariel he gave a short bow. She returned a nod. Paddy pulled him into a tight, one armed hug when he tried to shake his hand. He held him close as he spoke. ¡°Don¡¯t be so formal lad. The worlds gone and ended you know.¡± His eyes flickered to Ariel and then to me. ¡°And in the spirit of being open here. I¡¯m sure we¡¯d all feel much more at ease if you explained your level.¡± The tension that had dissipated with the earlier jokes suddenly returned. The weight of many eyes. The slight pop of displaced air as weapons appeared in hands. "No secrets, Red Warrior. No conspiracy," he said, voice smooth as steel. He mangled the word conspiracy so badly that he had to be speaking without Priorita¡¯s translation. But as I watched, even pressed against Paddy¡¯s chest, his stance shifted slightly. His free arm hung loose, his hand remained empty. But I could tell he was ready to equip a weapon and strike. ¡°Call me Paddy, lad.¡± ¡°Call me Longwei, then.¡± ¡°Aye, lad, Longwei it is. Then Longwei, what¡¯s the word. Who¡¯d you kill?¡± It was deadly silent in the circle. The air fairly crackling with it. With my new Stormsense I could feel as the firing of nerves rose in a crescendo. One of the spectators broke from the circle and ran away, down the street. I tensed, but nobody else moved. ¡°I only had 7 kills when I came to this stage. But I have killed nobody.¡± The words sent a chill down my spine. At my back, one of the folks in the ring took a step towards us. I felt it with stormsense and whirled about, pinning her with a glance. ¡°Explain.¡± I growled. ¡°Where did you come from, to not know the answer?¡± ¡°That isn¡¯t an answer.¡± ¡°I will trade this information¡ª¡± Said Longwei, but Paddy cut him off. ¡°You¡¯re in no position to negotiate, lad.¡± The Irishman had summoned a long hunting knife and held it loose in his off hand. ¡°Look around you red warrior. These people are more afraid of your shining titles than they are of my level.¡± Nobody spoke for a long moment. My hands shook, but I hid it by gripping my axe ever tighter. This would be so much easier with my perk. Ariel let out a disgusted sigh and smacked Paddy on the back of the head. ¡°Men. Seriously. What next? Are you going to whip out your Qu¨¦quettes and measure who has the longest? Cr¨¦tin. Listen.¡± She turned to the crowd. ¡°There is no conspiracy. We awoke in the Castle. Now your turn.¡± She stepped towards Longwei. ¡°Have you killed your fellow man, and if so, why?¡± At her words, a ripple passed through the ring. I noticed something I had missed before. Though all were still level 2, many had kill counts between 10 and 15. A higher average than had been in the Throneroom. ¡°The castle is unlocked then?¡± ¡°Oui. Now that is two answers. Your turn.¡± Paddy tensed. Longwei tilted his head to look me in the eye. His eyes were black and I couldn¡¯t read them. ¡°The Recycled are out there.¡± A chill crawled down my spine. ¡°Who?¡± ¡°The losers,¡± he said evenly. ¡°Not just from Stage One. From every season before this one.¡± The world tilted. A ripple of unease spread through the crowd. Ariel¡¯s breath hitched. ¡°That¡¯s impossible.¡± ¡°So is surviving this game,¡± Longwei said, his gaze steady. ¡°And yet, here we are.¡± My grip tightened around Ebonrage. The dead were walking. And they were coming for us. Chapter 19: How to Lose Friends and Terrify People Chapter 19: How to Lose Friends and Terrify People The first of the Recycled popped its head from its hole and screamed like Gazpacho when you clipped his nails. For a moment I was yanked out of the mad scramble for survival¡ªI just missed my fucking dog. Wuu-Tang Level 2 It burst from its den, all churning legs and snapping jaws. It was about eight feet long and looked like a centipede had screwed a chihuahua and then mainlined steroids. My heart thundered in my chest and I waited until the last moment to leap aside and swung Ebonrage. I whiffed the strike. Priorita started yapping about the thing, and how they had lobotomised the whole species to make them suitable for this stage. I didn''t know why she always had to talk when I was fighting for my life. One head reared back, and I dove and rolled to avoid the second. A billow of fetid breath told me it had only just missed. I rolled to my feet and for a second my eyes flickered to the burning skull of my predator perk. I could turn it on for a second, surely that wouldn¡¯t be so bad? But no, I couldn¡¯t trust myself to turn it off. I looked up in time to see the Wuu-Tang arching its back. It made a Hyuurk sound that reminded me of Gazpacho when he ate carrots and inevitably barfed on the carpet. A concussive blast of air shot from its left head. I was too slow to dodge and the air bullet hit my chest like a cannonball. Pain flared across my ribs as I crashed into the dirt. I tasted blood. I tumbled in an undignified sprawl of limbs, rolling hard enough to blur my vision. I heard Ariel curse in French. Paddy barked a laugh. The Wuu-Tang lunged. I scrambled to stand, heart hammering. It was almost on me¡ªshit, it was going to get me. The skull flashed and I thought I heard faint guitar chords. But the creature hesitated, eying the party at my back. It turned and scurried back to its burrow. The thick mat of alien plants and vines snapping shut like a trapdoor. I rubbed at my chest where the air bullet had hit and retreated to the rest of my party. ¡°Well, you right fucked that one up, eh lad? Thought I was about to learn a thing or two.¡± He crouched beneath the wide fronds of a fungal palm, grinning at me. We had broken into parties of five¡ªthe limit that Priorita¡¯s system would allow. The other teams¡ªat least four other groups of five¡ªwatched from where they hunted other recycled. Silent. Waiting. The weight of their stares made my skin itch. ¡°How the hell was I supposed to know the damn things could do that?¡± I snapped. ¡°Oh, I dunno, lad. Did ya try watching what the others were doing?¡± Paddy waggled his eyebrows. ¡°The UI gives you more details as you observe them too. Didn¡¯t ya use that on the last stage?¡± I hadn¡¯t. How did everyone know all this stuff? I scowled and squinted at the trapdoor, where two sets of eyes peered out. The Wuu-Tang¡¯s info tab popped up and there was a + beside its name I hadn¡¯t bothered with before. I clicked it. A second window appeared. History, biology, strengths, weaknesses. Too much text. I was no good at this nerd shit. ¡°We¡¯re here to learn how to fight as a team,¡± I grumbled. ¡°That¡¯s what Longwei said.¡± ¡°Sure, lad, but we need to know what each of us can do." I clenched my fists, remembering the Wuu-Tang¡¯s teeth. I¡¯d lost my arm once, had it eaten from fingertips to shoulder and sure as shit didn¡¯t want it to happen again. ¡°How would you kill the bloody thing, then?¡± I gestured to the trapdoor, where two pairs of red eyes peeked from the darkness. ¡°It¡¯s got two heads. If I axe one, the other gets me. If I dodge, it spits bloody air bullets.¡± Paddy¡¯s gaze flicked up. He wasn¡¯t looking at me¡ªhe was checking my kill count as though he didn¡¯t believe it. I didn¡¯t like that. I wasn¡¯t the monster, the predator, but at 73, mine was still, by far, the highest we¡¯d seen. The skull icon pulsed again, harder this time. A distant bass drum thumped in my ears, matching my heartbeat. Before I could snap at him, the Wallace siblings approached. They were sandy-haired, sharp-jawed, and had the kind of southern drawl you could taste. Tammy-Lee Wallace Level 2 Human Class: Grease-Monkey (Rare) Role: Adventurer Kills: 13 Tyler Wallace Level 2 Human Class: Gator-Wrangler (Rare) Role: Adventurer Kills: 11 At 13 and 11 kills, they had stood out from the crowd and each had a rare class too. I hadn¡¯t been sure about letting them into the party, but after our confrontation with Longwei, the rest of the adventurer class humans had avoided us. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Tammy cracked open a tinny of cheap beer. Apparently, she and her brother had been arriving at a cook-up when they were zapped away, and each had a slab of Pabst Blue Ribbon in their inventory. She chugged it and tossed the empty can over her shoulder. ¡°Hold my beer.¡± Tyler caught it, laughing, before zapping it into his inventory. ¡°Get at it, sis.¡± Tammy went wide, circling the trapdoor. She moved silent and smooth, like I imagined a hunter would. She stepped into its blind spot, waited half a breath, then tossed the furred corpse of a small alien over the hole. The Wuu-Tang burst out. Its long body made it halfway before Tammy-Lee rammed a spear through its back. My chest clenched¡ªthe thing screamed just like my dog. It thrashed, twisted and snapped at her, but she danced to the side and it missed by millimetres. She withdrew a second spear and pinned the horror to the dirt. A final whimper and it died. Purple, forked tongues lolled from both mouths. She wiped her hands on her jeans, summoned a fresh beer, and popped the tab. ¡°Ain¡¯t no big thing.¡± I stared. A few of the other teams cheered, and Tammy waved. ¡°Christ, lad. I reckon I¡¯m in love.¡± Paddy¡¯s voice boomed through the clearing. Tyler¡¯s grin vanished. He scowled at Paddy, fingers twitching. Tammy winked at the Irishman. ¡°What can I say, Red? I know how to handle a spear.¡± Paddy roared with laughter. He slung an arm over her shoulder. Tammy slapped it away and returned to Tyler¡¯s side. I had no fucking idea how they could all be so nonchalant about all of this. My heart still thrashed in my chest. When the thing had turned and lunged, I was sure it was going to get her. I could still feel its screech in my bones. I cleared my throat. And they all turned to me. I didn¡¯t want the title of party leader, but since I¡¯d sent the invites, the system had assigned it to me. I hadn¡¯t expected anyone to care about it. But they did. And they were waiting. ¡°Look, guys, I know what Longwei said.¡± I rubbed my temple. ¡°But one mistake, and it¡¯s lights out. You understand? Tammy, that was bloody close, and you know it.¡± She scowled. ¡°Allan is right.¡± Ariel¡¯s voice cut through the group. ¡°We must use our strengths to compensate for our weaknesses. You, Tammy-Lee¡ª¡± She waved at the sandy haired woman who had already finished her beer, and was starting on another. She was drinking quickly, which made me wonder if it was a coping mechanism for the stress of this place. ¡°You move fast. You are observant. But if you faced something stronger, head-on, you would have struggled. No?¡± After a long pause, she nodded. Ariel turned to Paddy. "You¡¯ve got quick hands, a sharp tongue¡ªbut your arm¡¯s weak." ¡°Oi! I¡¯m strong, alright? Wiry strength! Not all bunched up like you two meatheads." Ariel stared. ¡°You have a bow, don¡¯t you?¡± He froze. ¡°How d¡¯ya know that, kid?¡± He asked, narrowing his eyes. I fought to keep my expression neutral, but was reminded of the dodgy shit she had pulled on the last stage. Of how she always seemed to know things she shouldn¡¯t. She rolled her eyes. ¡°You¡¯re left-handed. You wear an armguard on your right arm to protect from the string. Doesn¡¯t take a Ph¨¦nom¨¨ne to figure it out.¡± She turned to Tyler. ¡°You are strong and tough, yes? But you are not a dodger. Not a planner. You need direction.¡± Tyler looked to his sister, before nodding. ¡°She¡¯s older than me by seventeen minutes.¡± He summoned a shield and a heavy war gauntlet with a grunt. ¡°Reckon that means she tells me what to do.¡± The man seemed slow, but I was pretty sure it was an act. Ariel studied him. Then, she nodded. She spent the better part of a half hour directing us to work as a team. Her voice was sharp. Confident. It was bizarre. Almost like she had done it before. But everything she said made sense so we listened. The colours of the underground land morphed as I listened. The greens and blues that had dominated the phosphorescent sky when we had left the castle town were now infected with veins of deep red. Before I knew it, we were arrayed in position, ready to face another Wuu-Tang. This time as a team. I could feel my Perk Icon pulsing in my HUD. The flaming skull. Waiting. Watching. Ariel gave the signal. ¡°Tyler, go.¡± Tyler leaped forward, shield raised and the creature burst from its lair and scurried at him. He deflected the strike of its left head with his shield and gave it an almighty right hook that made the thing yelp. An arrow hissed over my shoulder and ricochet off the things carapace. Tammy-Lee circled and dashed in. "Allan, now!¡± Ariel¡¯s voice cut through the chaos. I lunged, axe raised. The second head¡¯s glowing red eyes locked onto me. Mouth open in a snarl, dripping with saliva. The skull icon pulsed in my HUD. Hatchling Predator: Activate? I hesitated. A heartbeat too long. Tyler screamed. The creature¡¯s fangs sank into his thigh, shredding flesh. Blood sprayed. Everybody broke formation. Paddy shot another arrow which tore a jagged hole through one of the pointed chihuahua ears. Tammy-Lee shrieked in complete panic and ran in. She drove a spear into the monster¡¯s side, but was at the wrong angle to get its spine. Ariel came at it headlong, some sort of a cane in her hand. She was blasted back and sent end over end by an air bullet. The Wuu-Tang shook Tyler like a chew toy. Blood sprayed. I gaped. What had I done? I slammed the button. Guitar SCREAMED. My feet left the ground in a superhuman leap. The axe struck deep, shearing through its body. Green ichor spraying like a fountain, painting me from head to toe. The axe had cleaved all the way through the recycled¡¯s body and lodged deep into the dirt beneath. I left it there. Though fatally injured, the thing was still alive and thrashing. I made a superhuman leap in the low gravity, crushing one skull under my boots heels as I landed. I grabbed the jaws of the other where they still gripped Tylers thigh and wrenched snapping the open like a mousetrap. Ariel scrambled in and pulled Tyler away as he collapsed, clutching his leg. I was on the thing, striking blow after blow after blow until its head was pulp. Every blow landing to the beat of the predators drums. My axe was still buried in flesh, but I didn¡¯t need it. My hands were free. My vision pulsed infrared. My next kill was near. I grinned so wide I could have sprained something. And I ran for the next victim. A faint sound penetrated the screaming guitar and thundering drums. ¡°Allan.¡± ¡°ALLAN!¡± I flicked a glance back and saw my party. The blood. The terror in their eyes. The slumped form of Tyler. I skidded to a halt in the soggy ground. And I hammered on that damn flaming skull icon, until the music stopped. *** We limped back to town. Tyler leaning on Tammy-Lee. Nobody spoke. Paddy watched me from the corner of his eye, like he was worried I would attack. He flinched when I moved. A small thing, just a twitch of his fingers¡ªbut I saw it. Tammy didn¡¯t look at me at all, her hands busy propping up her brother. As we crossed the castle gates, a voice stopped us cold. "Well, well. That looks nasty. Looks like Allan isn¡¯t all he¡¯s cracked up to be." The purple-haired woman with the dark eyes from the throne room. She leaned against a stone pillar, her thick-necked friend silent beside her. "You''re not one of them, Allan. You know that, don¡¯t you?" She hissed. "How many more of them have to bleed before you see it?" Her words hit me in the gut. She was right. Tammy-Lee set her jaw. "Not the time, lady." She continued to help her brother across the courtyard. I could hardly pull my eyes from the bright red that spattered with every footstep. "Oh, but it is." She pushed off the pillar, strolling forward. "You¡¯re dangerous. A danger to those around you.¡± Paddy flicked a glance at me and flexed his fingers. He nodded, and stepped towards her. ¡°Eh, piss off, lass.¡± She smirked. "Or what?¡± She had released her grip on the thick necked man belt, and he approached slowly. A casual, almost bored gait. I kept one eye on him, but remained focused on the lady. He didn¡¯t feel like a threat. Linh Phan: Level 3 Human. Class: Socialite Role: Researcher Kills: 15 ¡°You know he doesn¡¯t belong, Patrick.¡± What the hell? I turned my head a fraction of an inch to look at Paddy. There was a flicker of movement and the thick necked man was right in front of me. When had he gotten so close? ¡°Regards from Jaq Du Bouchard!¡± He hissed. I caught the dagger on the armour plating of my Gosporian arm, just barely deflecting it. He followed with an underhanded stab with a second dagger in his off hand, which stopped, quivering an inch from my heart. "Enough." Victor¡¯s voice rang out. He had come out of nowhere and caught the mans wrist, saving my life. The man strained and tried another strike, but Victor spun him and propelled the man back towards Linh. Her smirk faded. "I¡ª" ¡°I said that¡¯s enough!¡± Victor¡¯s tone was smooth as silk, but his eyes were sharp. Linh hesitated. Then, with a frustrated click of her tongue, she slipped a hand through the man¡¯s belt, turned and stalked off. Victor looked at me, his expression unreadable. "Allan. We need to talk.¡± Chapter 20: Allies and Actors Chapter 20: Allies and Actors The riots began in the summer of ¡¯32. That¡¯s the version we were taught. Massive, coordinated, and everywhere at once¡ªan uprising that lasted nearly twenty years. They said it spread through something called the ¡®internet,¡¯ a relic of a less civilised time. It was purged, erased, like the rest of the story. They never told us what people were fighting for. What they were rising against. Only that peace was restored. And that peace has lasted ever since. Mandatory. Monitored. Manufactured. They called it a victory. I¡¯m not so sure. *** I stared at Victor, he was taller than I had expected and good looking in that superficial, news-reporter kind of way. Perfect white teeth arching into a confident smile. A brow that didn¡¯t wrinkle. My storm sense tingled. There was a battery inside the man¡¯s eye. A cybernetic. ¡°Well,¡± I said, straightening to my full height and matching his gaze. ¡°Talk then.¡± He studied me like a bird, head tilted just slightly. I felt tiny pulses of electricity as the battery in his eye discharged and wondered what it was doing. Eyes flickered down at my green, ichor-drenched clothes. His lips curled just slightly, the expression gone so quickly it might have been my imagination. I knew it wasn¡¯t. ¡°You don¡¯t want to¡­ rest first?¡± He asked, eyes flickering to the bloody form of Tyler now propped up with an arm over Paddy and his sister¡¯s shoulder. Paddy looked nervous as a cat in a dog kennel. He muttered something to Tammy that I didn¡¯t catch. I tried to split my attention. Eyes darting. I felt like I couldn¡¯t get my balance. Paddy and the Wallace siblings had been allies, but ever since Tyler had been injured and I¡¯d gone berserk¡­ Something had changed. Only Ariel stayed by my side, though as usual she was muttering to herself in French. Victor stood too close¡ªhadn¡¯t moved a muscle since stepping in to ¡®save¡¯ me. I took a step back. Victor followed. Staying close. Still smiling. A flash of light and a groan from behind let me know Tyler had used a red-ball to heal. We¡¯d tried earlier, but their use on this stage was restricted to safe zones, whatever the hell those were. Victor¡¯s eyes gleamed with practiced warmth. ¡°I suspect first impressions of each other may have misled us,¡± he said, his tone measured and sonorous, each word carrying the weight of someone used to commanding attention. ¡°But let¡¯s set that aside. Humanity stands at a precipice¡ªour peaceful way of life exploited, our compassion mistaken for weakness. In times like these, unity is our only shield. We stand together, not as leaders and followers, but as equals.¡± He placed a firm hand on my shoulder, his smile widening just enough to seem sincere. ¡°And you¡ªyou¡¯ve proven yourself. Not just as a survivor, but as a symbol of what even the least of us can achieve. You are living proof of our potential.¡± This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. The rapid discharge of electricity in his eye was like an itch. It pulsed with every word. The least of us? What the shit does that mean? I wondered. But didn¡¯t say it aloud. Sometimes the best thing you can do is just listen. ¡°What do you say, Allan. Will you work with me? With us? Will you be part of something great? Under my leadership Humanity will show its worth!¡± The discharge in his eye stopped, and I realised with a jolt that this speech was prewritten. He was using a damn teleprompter. It was all an act. The scuff of boot on cobble came from behind and I felt with my stormsense as Paddy, Tammy and Tyler approached. Did they have my back? Through the sense I could just dimly feel figures all around, behind corners and in buildings, just out of sight. Victor¡¯s followers. Half a dozen. A dozen. Maybe more. All out of sight. All waiting. The last glimmers of blue and green had faded from the cavern. A baleful red glow bathing this underground world. It was hot and humid, sweat ran down my back. My black-veined arm itched and it felt as though the black veins writhed beneath my skin. I flicked a glance to Ariel. Her face was a storm-cloud as she jabbered away to nobody, words pouring out in a ceaseless hiss. I caught the odd word I understood, and it sounded like she might be talking to her mom. Yeah she wasn¡¯t going to be helpful. Or was she? The kid had secrets. Victor had his eyes locked on me, unblinking. What would happen if I told him to fuck off? I wondered. This was a trap. I eyed the flaming skull. And I plastered a big fake-arse smile on my dial. ¡°Sounds like a plan, big fella.¡± I clapped him on the shoulder, harder than was really necessary and the sound of it echoed from the cobbles and stone walls. ¡°You¡¯re the man.¡± He had flinched. I felt it. My grin stretched. His eyes narrowed. He didn¡¯t trust me. The realisation almost made me laugh. That made two of us. I froze. Staring at my black-veined hand where it rested on Victor¡¯s shoulder. One of my fingers lifted. Wriggled, undulating like a caterpillar trying to walk in a wave. I couldn¡¯t feel it. Wouldn¡¯t have known if I couldn¡¯t see it. A second finger twitched. The veins pulsed, undulating like worms under my skin. My ring finger curled slowly, like it wasn¡¯t mine at all. What the fuuuck? I forced out a loud laugh that sounded fake, even to my ears and whipped my arm behind my back, curling my fingers into a fist. Victor¡¯s eyes narrowed. He knew something had happened, but didn¡¯t know what. After a moment¡¯s hesitation his politician¡¯s smile was back, blue eyes twinkling with fake good humour. ¡°Excellent! I knew you were a team player, Allan.¡± He reached out a hand to shake¡ªthankfully it was his right, and I clasped it. I could feel the fingers of my left hand behind my back, wriggling against my palm. I clenched them tighter. Yeah. I had to wrap this up and figure out what the fuck was going on. ¡°We have just received word from one of our scouting parties that they have found the first Wargame Vault. It¡¯s low levelled, meant for adventurers that haven¡¯t yet hit level five. I¡¯d love to set you up with a team so that you can challenge it. ¡°He¡¯s got a team already, lad.¡± Came Paddy¡¯s Irish brogue from my back. I felt a surge of relief. Victor¡¯s gaze flicked past me, clearly weighing Paddy and the others as they stepped into the ring of red light. ¡°Of course,¡± he said smoothly. ¡°I only offer what I believe is best. But I understand the bonds of loyalty.¡± He didn¡¯t mean it. I could hear it in the pause before the word loyalty, like it tasted wrong in his mouth. The grip of his handshake lingered just a second too long. Then he turned with the grace of a stage actor, calling something out to one of his aides and stepping away like we were done. But we weren¡¯t. Because as soon as his back was turned, I felt it again. A ripple beneath my skin. A thrum in my skull. My left hand twitched, fingers curling and uncurling like they were testing their range. The others started to talk¡ªabout the Wargame Vault, about healing, about what came next¡ªbut their voices faded beneath the roar building in my ears. Realisation hit me like a hammer blow. My hand wasn¡¯t just numb. It was waking up.