The teleportation capsule spiraled and tumbled through the wormhole like a piano down an elevator shaft.
We stared out at the blurred starlines in silence.
Teleportation Complete.
Location: Slavonski Brod, Croatia.
Of course, with Jay on board, we finally got a decent landing.
Gentle. Straight onto our boot heels—not, face first into mud or slime or monster shit. Jay immediately took credit—
“Hey, man… when you got a smoove brother on board, things just hit different.”
“Remind me… is this the same Mr. Smooth that just got a sponsorship offer from Elroy’s Enema World?”
----
We were in a Croatian border town, standing in what must have been the central square. A large clock on the municipal building had been shot to hell at 2:17—although, on which day… was anybody’s guess.
Ash coated the buildings. Five days of mild breeze had scattered a thin layer of ’people powder’ across everything.
The empty facades of once-bustling shops stared back at us like hollow eye sockets in a skull. Every storefront told the same story—interrupted lives, abandoned mid-moment. A café with half-consumed cups on the tables. A barber shop with clippers and scissors lying in heaps of ashen remains.
The final seconds ticked off the third quarter and that shrill sonic whistle echoed across the horizon. I checked the clock.
End of 3rd Quarter.
Warriors: 47,852
Only forty-zeven thousand warriors left. Down from six million.
The number told a story.
A new countdown began—
Final Time Out: 05:59:59
I scanned the rest of my stats—
Rank: 22,514
Points: 8,605,000
Fans: 379.2B
Nice.
I had moved up into the middle of the pack with my new rank.
I unmuted the ISSN feed.
Blink and Gill gave their slick-grinned rundown of top third quarter action. A lot of their commentary focused on ’The Sack’ and its viral ramifications.
“—we all witnessed a fundamentally game-altering moment, when human contestant, Sam Wynbrook aka “SackUpSam” lopped off the Oblivotaur’s… family jewels, leading to our first-ever recorded ‘sack.’”
“Yes, the chop heard around the multiverse.” Gill blanched. “I wonder when we’ll stop hearing about it.”
Mute.
“Good news,” ERNI announced. “I have located a team locker room 8 kilometers away. I have added the icon to your map.”
----
We made the trek and holed up inside the shared team locker room. It was a decent enough setup—a stocked general area boasting cleansing stalls, lockers, kitchen, and hover bunks. There was enough food, tools, and supplies for up to four people.
Count B stretched out on his own cot and conked out. Jay’s hacked gauntlet ran on a command line system with zero AI personality, so rather than engage, ERNI clicked into a rest state.
Jay and I sat, scarfing food and guzzling beer. After a few burps, we settled into a somber silence. We stared across the table, bleary, red-eyed, wearing the cumulative effects of sleep deprivation, trauma, dehydration, and exhaustion.
I pointed at him. “You look like shit.”
“Bro, I know you ain’t talking.”
Our silent stare down broke into a fit of laughter.
“Dang, man. It’s really good to see you.” I said, surprised at the amount of emotion in my voice.
“Same, fam. Same.” He cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses. “Man, I uh… I’m real sorry about your mom…”
I tracked Jay’s eyes. He was watching me fidget with the gaming pendant on my necklace.
“Yeah… thanks. I’m sorry too… about your grandmom.”
“’Preciate it.” Jay nodded, water cresting his eyes.
“She and I… we fussed all the time… but that was just our love language.”
I nodded. “Yeah. Me and Mom weren’t the closest. But when it really mattered, she showed she cared.”
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
“Yeah, she definitely showed your neighbor.”
“Fuck you!”
“My bad bro… just playin’.”
“Let’s keep things upbeat and hope that your grandma and the deacon made it to safety. Who knows… maybe they’re cozied up in a bunker somewhere and he just popped a blue pill.”
“Hey, hey—my grandma is an honorable lady.”
“Of course.”
The silence hung in the air.
The weight of our shared loss pressed down—tainting each moment—bruising even the smallest mercies of fleeting laughter.
Jay downed another swig of beer, eyes lost in worry. “She knew I loved her. You don’t always have to say it. I mean… sometimes people just know. Right?”
I patted his arm. “I’m sure she knew.”
“Man…shit… fucking onions in here…” Jay rubbed his eyes, changing the subject. “So, tell me more about Sola.”
“What’s to tell? She’s dope. Funny. Sexy. Adventurous. I was just too chicken-shit to say anything.”
“Ah, come on, you gotta shoot your shot.”
“I was never any good with that kind of stuff. You know, I even bought a book about how to get better at it.”
Jay busted out laughing. “Get the hell outta here! A book on how to mack?”
“Don’t hate. That’s how I like to learn things. You can learn a lot from reading.”
“Bruh, for sho’, but not how to talk to ladies. For that, you should’ve come to your boy—“ He patted his chest. “’The Professor.’ The only book you need is ‘What Would Jay Say?’”
“Right… if only there were women left to talk to.”
I winced as soon as I’d said it. The words came out heavier than I intended. The silence was crushing. Jay’s face dimmed with sobering realization.
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah.”
My teeth clenched and my fists flexed. “From here on out, it’s all about vengeance. I don’t care about anything else. I got nothing left.”
“Gotta get Blady,” Jay said.
“And Krivlax,” I nodded.
Jay held out a fist.
“Brothers for life.”
I bumped it.
“Brothers for life.”
----
We got a couple of hours of shut-eye in before ERNI buzzed me awake. I got a quick session in the cleansing chamber. God… the hot steam felt amazing.
I caught up on my notifications.
LEVEL UP!
You Have Reached Level 8!
Reward: +250,000 Points!
New Class! You have leveled up from ‘Neutering Nemesis’ to ‘Castrating Commando.’
New Abilities:
+5% Faster Healing.
+5% Striking Power.
+5% Gem Essence Absorption.
Castrating Commando.
I could see the poster now. Me in sunglasses. Oiled up biceps swole like pregnant pigs. Explosions behind me. And below… ’Coming this summer’… Castrating Commando.
Fuck yeah. I’d pay to see that.
Primary Weapon Upgrade!
The following upgrades have been applied to Pizza Cutters:
+Boomerang Blades.
+Liquid Metal.
I tested out both.
The Boomerang Blades were badass. I flicked the cutter handles, firing both circular blades out in a sweeping arc, only to watch them zip back into their handles with a satisfying click.
And, the Liquid Metal upgrade? That was some straight Terminator 2 shit.
The cutters morphed into a variety of metal weapons—all based on my thoughts. I seamlessly willed Slice and Dice into a pair of sais… katanas… axes.
They gleamed in the light, returning to their circular form.
Sick!
----
I rummaged through a supply cabinet, searching for any bit of gear that could press our advantage in the 4th quarter. I found a pair of welder goggles, some wire, and some PCB parts. I did a bit of soldering and cobbled together a surprise for Count B.
That’s when I heard the first laser blast.
PSYOOM!
I scrambled around the divider to check on Jay. “What the hell was that?”
He smiled, touching a metallic headband.
“My bad, bro. I thought I had it on mute. Just getting a little target practice in.”
He hefted a crystal clear pistol in his right hand. A laser scope traced a thin green line through the air. A holographic bird projected from the headband, providing a moving target. Jay squinted one eye and lined up the hologram with his green laser.
PSYOOM! PSYOOM! PSYOOM!
He took a few shots, hitting the creature with striking accuracy.
“Not bad,” I nodded. “You’re getting better…”
“Better? Man, I was always bailing you out in Ogre Splat.”
“Uhhh. I think you’re confused. I was always bailing you out. I think we both know who the better shot is.”
“Yeah. Me.”
“Uh. No.”
“Is this a challenge?” he asked.
“I’d have to face a challenger in order for it to be a challenge.”
Jay laughed, pumping his fists. “Say less! Let’s gooooooo!”
Moments later, Jay and I participated in perhaps the dumbest idea possible considering our circumstances.
We held a target practice competition in a small enclosed room during a period of time where rest was a precious commodity.
Did we care?
Nope.
Because… testosterone.
It was there in the testicle owner’s manual. Appendix D. Article 4. Paragraph 5.
“And it shall be that if two testicle owners are in conflict of who is better, it must immediately be proven no matter what cost to civility, reputation, credit score, social status, and marital harmony.”
Jay went first.
The bird took flight, around the room, Jay charged around, blasting without concern for keeping the room tidy.
The digital bird fired eye lasers back at him.
PSYOOM! PSYOOM! PSYOOM!
Jay tumbled and dove, scrambling around the room. In true showoff form, he blasted from the hip. He struck the target seven out of ten times, but not before creating an absolute mess.
KRASHH!
He dove over the table, knocking over food and drink. He bashed into the locker doors. He knocked over supply crates.
THUNK!
Not to be outdone, I followed, also hitting seven of ten shots, banging the hell out of cupboards, knocking over toolboxes, diving over the hover cots.
SMASH!
Count B snapped awake, flailing his leaves.
COUNT BASIL: LEAF! LEAF!
ERNI snapped out of his rest state. “Are we under attack?!”
“No, dude.” I laughed. “Just a little friendly competition.”
There was nothing friendly about it.
Our veritable manhood was at stake. Someone had to go down. It went like this for the next 15 minutes. Jay and I locked into our stubborn competition, alternating turns, wrecking the locker room like two unattended kids in an attic full of boxes.
“Oh, come on!” I yelled. “Lucky shot!”
“What?!” Jay hollered. “There’s no way you hit that!”
“That’s some bullshit!” I hissed. “There’s no way I missed!”
“Ha! What I tell you?! Skills, son!”
The entire locker room was in shambles. We stood there, panting like idiots, staring at one another with a mixture of respect and competitive disgust.
“Run it back!” I demanded.
Count B shut down the nonsense—pulling us apart.
COUNT BASIL: Leaf!
Jay took off the metallic headband, patting his hair. “I would have smoked you if I had a little more room to operate.”
I waved him off, “Don’t start up with the excuses. It’s unbecoming.”
We geared up and got ready as the timeout counter neared its end.
Where would we head to this time?
What kind of monsters would the fourth quarter bring?
All of that was unknown.
I touched G’s tooth and mom’s gaming pendant on my necklace. I thought about Sola. I thought about all that I had endured and all that was lost and unrecoverable.
My teeth clenched as a renewed resolve coursed through my veins. This final quarter was everything. Only the top two warriors would face off in the final. I needed to do everything in my power to make sure it was me vs Blady.
That was key in finding a way back to Sola and the first step in making Krivlax pay for his greed.
If Jay and I didn’t stand up, Earth would go unavenged like so many planets before it.
Nah.
I wasn’t going to let that happen.
One thing Krivlax and his goons didn’t count on…
Earthlings are stubborn and petty as fuck.
