2nd Quarter: 27:31:22
Warriors: 3,467,921
As we walked, I glanced at the play clock. We were a little over eight hours into the second quarter, and the remaining warriors were down almost half from the starting amount. Almost three million warriors dead or eliminated, and we weren’t even at halftime yet. I checked my stats.
Level: 3
Race: Human
Class: Pizza Pugilist
Rank: 3,467,921 (Last)
Points: 1,690,000
Fans: 597,923
And out of curiosity, I took a peek at Gnarltharr’s as well.
Level: 14
Race: Vylgarianth
Class: Impaling Ravager
Rank: 2,114,237
Points: 3,270,000
Fans: 6,189,664
I had to admit, despite his modesty, Gnarltharr’s numbers were pretty impressive. And his class name was sick.
Seriously? Impaling Ravager? I suddenly found myself far less proud of my Pizza Pugilist status.
I turned to him as we walked the crystalline corridors. “So… you’re kind of a badass, huh?”
“What do you speak of, Pizza Sam?”
“Your stats? Your class? They’re pretty good.”
He grunted with a dismissive wave. “I do not look at them. I am here for only one reason… Dom Blady.”
“You’ve got a lot of sponsorship offers in there. Some pretty lucrative stuff.”
“Does a fang-beast care for credits? Does a liger desire dollars?”
“Hmm.” I cocked my head and kind of understood his point.
As we walked, I couldn’t help but notice the heaviness of his steps. With each one, the ground trembled slightly. And his stride was enormous. He had to be at least 240 centimeters tall and I figured about 300 kilograms. All solid muscle, of course. He caught me sizing him up and flashed me a look.
“Is there something you wish to say?”
“Uh-uh… nope.”
I opened my playbook and noticed a new tab.
Shared Team Inventory.
“No way…”
I clicked it open and saw two sub-tabs. One for Count Basil and one for Gnarltharr. I opened Count Basil’s first. There wasn’t anything listed. There was simply a note:
This upgrade-extension teammate does not have individual stats or inventory. They can only utilize items shared by the team leader.
I closed the tab. I guess that made sense. Count Basil was more of a sidekick than a full-fledged teammate—the unintended consequence of the Team Spirit upgrade.
I clicked on Gnarltharr’s tab, and my eyes went wide.
“Holy crap, dude. You have so much stuff in here. And most of it hasn’t even been opened.”
He grunted again with another one of his waves. “Bah. Most of these things are junk. Glimmering distractions.”
“No, no, dude. You have it all wrong. Some of these weapon upgrades are incredible. In my last battle, I was able to—“
“Which battle is this?” he interrupted. “The one where your plant saved you or the one where I did?”
“Okay, grumpy. I’m just saying, you might want to keep an open mind and actually look at some of the things you have in here. You got the Slaughter Slice Play. And I mean, and come on… who could say no to Inside-Out Grenades?”
“You can have them all.”
As soon as he said it, they began to disappear from his tab and flash as available in one of mine.
Item Transfer Initiated Via Team Shared Inventory.
“Wait, what?” I exclaimed. “We can share all of this stuff?”
“That is correct,” ERNI chirped. “Now that you have established a Team Party, you can share inventory resources.”
I looked at Gnarltharr again. “You sure you don’t want any of these things?”
“No, I require but one weapon. My VengeAxe.”
I’m not going to lie. That was one of the things I was actually eyeballing. With a badass name like that, how couldn’t you?
Item Transfer Complete.
“Sweet! Thanks, dude!”
“You are welcome. But, I am curious… why do you desire these things? They are like youngling playthings. Shiny, glitzy noisemakers. Some requiring range and distance. The coward’s way. I am from the old ways of fighting. Claw-to-claw combat. Melee. Bladed weapons in close quarters. What kind of battle is it if you do not get your hands bloody?”
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“A very successful one, I would say.”
Another grunt. “We are very different creatures. With very different ways.”
“Well, that’s why I’m getting to know you. I want to learn more about your people… uh.. beasts?”
“Vylgarianths are simple yet complex. Or at least we were. I am the last of their kind. Because I never found a mate, there will be no heirs. We were family-oriented, staying in clusters, which you might call hives. We worked. We mated. We killed. Good times.”
“Yeah, sounds like it.”
“If it wasn’t for Commissioner Krivlax and the Slayer Bowl, we would be doing so still.”
We walked forward in silence for a moment, the grim weight of our lost planets hanging between us.
“What about you, Pepperoni-Sam? What are your ways?”
“Oh, wow. Well, kind of the same. Maybe less of the killing. Well, maybe not. People were simple yet complex, too. Most of us wanted families, to find love, have kids. But so often our dreams and desires were corrupted by greed, envy, and jealousy. Money and power ruled the planet. The ever-increasing desire for more poisoned our politics, our environment, and our society.”
“Money,” Gnarltharr hissed. “What a foolish pursuit. On our planet, it did not exist. Everything was given freely amongst the clans. And if we bartered, there was no greed. There was the mutual understanding that both sides had equal needs. And there was care to see that all survived and did well.”
“Yeah, that definitely wasn’t us. I guess that’s why I always escaped into my video games.”
“Video games?”
“Yeah, like virtual simulations of what we’re going through now. Shooters, war games, role-playing, fantasy. You could basically do anything you wanted without consequence. And without harming anyone else in real life.”
“Sounds like a waste of time.”
“Maybe… but it was fun.”
“Fun was not a concept on my planet either. You were hatched. You worked. You warred. And you died.”
“Sounds like a real joyous existence there.”
“It was the Vylgarianth way for eons. And it worked. But as you have said, greed destroys and due to the ISL, we are no more.”
“Yeah, something needs to be done about Krivlax. But how do you reach somebody that far away?”
“With time, patience, and planning.”
----
We were close to the orb indicator now. Only about a kilometer out. That’s when a flock of red dots appeared on our map.
”Incoming!” I yelled. “Switch to stealth speak!”
Gnarltharr has entered mental chat.
GNARLTHARR: I am here.
ME: Cool. So what’s your team fighting style? Back to back? Side by side? High low?
GNARLTHARR: What are you talking about, Pizza Box Sam?
ME: Never mind.
I could see movement in the tunnel ahead. Shiny reflections. Glints of glass. The noise was crinkly, like a dump truck releasing a haul of ice cubes. I spotted the first creature as it emerged from the shadows. It looked like a crystalline hound, skittering on glass legs. Its protruding jaw bore gleaming fangs.
Mission: Kill Monster Mob.
Fractal Fangs. Level 4.
SHIIING!
I drew my pizza cutters.
They spun up to full size with laser edges. Gnarltharr looked down with an amused chuckle.
GNARLTHARR: Cute.
He pulled a small, cylindrical shaft from a harness on his back. It telescoped out, extending to a full length spear. Razor-sharp double-axe heads sprouted from both ends.
“Whoa…” I reacted.
“The VengeAxe… a true warrior’s weapon,” he grinned.
YAAAAAAAH!!!
He took off running, his war cry shaking the entire corridor. The vibrations rattled the approaching Fractal Fangs. A bunch of them lost their footing, wriggling on their backs. Gnarltharr stomped full ahead, smashing several to smithereens with single blows of his VengeAxe. Shattered, crystal bits flew like glassy droplets of blood.
“Holy fuck sauce.”
If that’s what a level 14 warrior looked like, sign me up.
Count Basil sprang arms out into a fight-ready stance from the quest sack. We scrambled behind Gnarltharr. Fractal Fangs dove at us, teeth first, from all sides.
CHOMP-CHOMP!
Two of them clamped down on my arms.
“AAAAH!”
Bleeding, I hacked them off. They fell to the ground, but were back on their feet in no time, sparkling jaws dripping with my blood.
They snarled, then leaped at us again. Count Basil rocked them with a double punch combo, but shuddered in pain, as more Fractal Fangs moved in, chomping his leaves.
Undeterred, he continued to fight, grabbing two of them in the air and smashing them against one another with a shattering—
KRUNCH!
I booted, stomped, and sliced my way through half a dozen of the creatures. It took four hits each to put them down, but I soon found a rhythm.
There, the three of us stood—me, Count Basil, and Gnarltharr—encircled by a ravenous swarm of glass hounds. We fought back-to-back like a team of super heroes.
ME: Cool! We’re just like the Avengers!
GNARLTHARR: What are you babbling about, human?
One of the Fractal Fangs leapt towards my head and clamped its claws to the sides of my helmet. It opened its jaws and a tube-like protrusion probed forward like an Alien Face-Hugger. I lopped it off with a single swipe of my pizza cutter. I stabbed the monster in its gut—my cutter spinning out clear blood.
The creature shrieked, dropping to the ground where I stomped it to death.
“DIEEEEEE!!!”
KRUNCH! KRUNCH! KRUNCH!
Gnarltharr grabbed four of the creatures by their tails, slamming them headfirst into the ground until their skulls were nothing more than pulpy stubs.
Count Basil opted to grab three Fractal Fangs by their limbs, ripping out their spinal cords like a sushi chef deveining shrimp.
ME: Impressive.
I was pretty slick myself, gutting the creatures with a series of well placed strikes. The lasers on the pizza cutters shredded through their intestines like a hot knife through butter. They were markedly better at penetrating hard surfaces.
In a few minutes, it was all over.
We stood there, bleeding, heaving for breath. Okay, I was the only one heaving. Which I couldn’t believe, considering Gnarltharr’s size.
Don’t you get winded?” I gasped.
“It would take significant battle effort.”
“Right,” I nodded. “Yeah. Yeah… this is light work.”
Fractal Fangs Defeated!
Mission Complete: Kill Monster Mob.
Reward: +60,000 Points!
New Trophy! Triple Team Takedown.
Reward: +10,000 Points!
Auto-Looted Fractal Fangs.
Items Acquired:
Swagger Crystals.
Stinger Spike Boots
Swift Armor.
Med-Kits x3
Bonus Team Reward: Matching “Teammates Do It Better” T-Shirts.
“Doooope.” I said, “We should totally rock these.”
“I will not wear those,” Gnarltharr growled.
I equipped the Stinger Spike boots and checked out their info box.
Stinger Spike Boots
Auto-protruding, toxin-tipped boot spikes.
“Sick.”
I also enabled the new armor suit. It was sleeker, and faster to move in. It didn’t have the toxin spines or hopping abilities of the Insecto-Exoskeleton, but it had the added advantage of increased speed and impact resistance. I figured it was worth the tradeoff.
I looked up at Gnarltharr’s disapproving face.
“Are you finished collecting your toys?” he grunted.
“Hey, we’re not all giant, four-armed warriors. Some of us need as much help as we can get.”
“You are right about that, Stuffed Crust Sam. You need much help.”
“Hey, okay, can we at least establish you using my proper name? It’s SackUpSam! SackUpSam! Where are you getting these other names anyway?!”
“From the Wormhole. Where else?”
“The Wormhole? I thought you were only here for Blady. What are you doing on a cosmic networking platform?”
“It is how I keep track of the ISL and Commissioner Krivlax. It is also how I learned about you.”
----
We made our way to the orb location. As before, with the Count Basil surprise, there were now three orbs there instead of one. They hovered in between columns of jagged gypsum.
“Huh. So, I guess they generate one for each teammate.”
Count Basil and I stuffed ours into the quest sack. Gnarltharr adopted a… different… approach. He raised his in the air with two of his arms, unhinged his jaw, and proceeded to swallow it whole. After watching this very disturbing event, I stood there dumbfounded.
“Wow. That’s… something.”
More notifications flashed across my HUD.
Mission Complete: Retrieve Orb x3.
Reward: +90,000 points
Mission: Reach Scoring Zone.
As we walked away, a thought was bugging me. I turned to Gnarltharr.
“Sooo… I gotta ask… how are you planning on getting that orb back out?”
He grunted with a smile.
“You have your ways. I have mine.”
