The teleportation capsule dissolved as I stepped down onto a glittering stage.
Fireworks popped. Pyrotechnics blazed. An alien DJ spun holographic discs.
This was a party for the ages.
I shook my head, dizzy from all of the sights and sounds.
The roar of the crowd was deafening. I looked up, surprised to see a stadium overflowing with thousands of screaming, holographic fans.
I peeked at my ISSN feed and the Wormhole.
Kazillions were watching elsewhere.
Holy shit.
The big spenders stood out—their faces appearing in floating VIP bubbles throughout the arena.
I brushed up against the podium, still adjusting to my missing right arm. The cauterized stump throbbed beneath a sealed Med-Cap. At this point, the pain was manageable, but the phantom itches were driving me nuts.
I tugged a my collar.
ERNI winked at me from the gauntlet.
ERNI: Remember, we are playing the long game.
ME: Yeah, yeah… best behavior. I’m telling’ you… this catering bill has gotta be astronomical.
I sighed.
ME: I wonder if G is seeing this.
ERNI: One way or another… I am sure that he is.
Blink and Gill teleported onto the stage beside me.
“Ladies and gentlemen and unclassifiable life forms!” Blink’s voice boomed across the cosmic stadium. “Welcome to the Slayer Bowl Championship Ceremony!”
“Sam Wynbrook,” Blink beamed, extending an arm towards me, “has accomplished what no human has ever done… becoming our SLAYER BOWL CHAMPION!”
The crowd erupted with cheers and applause. My HUD lit up with notifications:
FINAL STATS:
Level: 12
Race: Human
Class: Sackstronaut
Rank: 1
Points: 22,682,000
Fans: 3.7 Trillion
A smaller notification blinked at the corner of my vision:
Credits: 50,000,000,000.
Whoa!
I blinked at the absurd number.
ME: Yo… ERNI!
ERNI: Yes?
ME: What’s the deal with the credits? Did you launch a meth empire when I wasn’t looking?
ERNI: Ha. Ha. Ha. No. The credit total you see represents an aggregate of fan donations, pending sponsorship deals, and ISL championship bonuses. Congratulations, Sam. You’re now one of the wealthiest beings in the multiverse.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
ME: Goddamn! I can finally pay off my student loans!
Jokes aside, the wealth meant nothing. Not without an Earth to live on. Not without making Krivlax pay.
Speaking of which…
“And now,” Blink gestured dramatically, “the moment we’ve all been waiting for! Please welcome the Commissioner of the Intergalactic Slayer League… the one… the only… COMISSIONERRRRRRR KRIIIIIIVLAXXXXX!”
He appeared via hologram, rather than in person.
Hmm. Security measure?
Black clouds swirled as green lasers projected Krivlax’s image center stage. His profile was unmistakable—tall, thin, and green, with those needle-point teeth.
He wore a crisp, white suit emblazoned with the ISL badge and he held his scaly pet in his arms.
The crowd cheered as he approached with two attendants carrying the Golden Slayer Orb. It was a glowing golden sphere anchored to an obsidian base.
“Samuel Wynbrook,” Krivlax’s voice boomed across the speakers. His words were smooth like poisoned honey. “You have somehow managed to survive and defy every odd and expectation.”
We locked eyes. Even though he wasn’t there in the flesh, I could sense his rage. I wondered if he could sense mine.
He played to the virtual crowd, addressing them like loyal subjects, “For millennia, warriors have fought for this honor. And now, you stand victorious… having proven yourself in the arena of champions.”
He extended the Golden Slayer Orb with a hiss in his smile, “Congratulationsss.”
I accepted the trophy. Up close, I could almost make out intricate engravings across its surface: constellations, star maps, and alien script.
“As champion,” Krivlax continued. “You are entitled to untold riches, a fleet of starships, and worlds to call your own.”
He lowered his voice, pointing a bony finger. “But I can offer something even greater. Join me… join us as an ISL Ambassador. Together, we could rule the multiverse.”
He extended his hand.
My mind flashed with images of Earth’s destruction… my mother’s body… Jay… Sola… and the billions of other victims of this goddamn sport.
I reached out a hand, as if to shake, then extended my middle finger.
“UP YOURS, KRIVLAX!”
Viewers went wild. The Wormhole went apeshit.
? UpYoursKrivlax instantly became the top trending star tag.
The ISSN feed cut to various reaction shots as alien fans cheered. Betting boards lit up with precarious odds on whether I’d survive the next sixty seconds.
Krivlax’s face darkened, shadows creasing beneath his eyes. He squinted and flashed a gleaming smile.
“I’ll see you soon.”
We maintained eye contact as he vanished into a cloud of darkness—his final glare promising retribution.
Blink swooped in with a broadcaster’s timing. “Well, now…! What an… unexpected response from the commissioner and our champion! Gill, your thoughts?”
“Greatest comeback in sports history!” Gill shouted. “Glad I always kept the faith!”
----
Later, I sat across from Blink and Gill for a post-game interview. The Golden Slayer Orb gleamed on a stand beside me.
“So, Sam Wynbrook, SackUpSam, The Sacker,” Blink leaned forward, grinning, “what exactly should we call you?”
I was dazed—overwhelmed by the crowd, cameras, and lights.
“Uhhh…” I smiled nervously. “Just… Sam is fine.”
“Well, okay then, Sam.” Blink smiled. “What’s the first thing you’re going to do with all of the newfound fame and fortune?”
I glanced down at the stump where my right arm used to be.
“First… I’ll probably look into some medical options.”
The audience laughed.
“But… seriously,” I continued, feeling the molded plastic of Blady’s ship beacon in my palm. “I have some unfinished business.”
“Care to elaborate?” Gill pressed.
I touched my mother’s gaming pendant and smiled.
“No.”
----
I boarded my new spaceship and worked the dash, bringing up the AI interface.
“Starship, set a course for—“
“Now playing Starships by Niki Minaj.”
What the…
The track jammed over the ship’s speakers. I had to admit. It sounded damn good. Made me want to wiggle my hips.
“ERNI?!!” I yelled. “IS THAT YOU?!”
The music cut off.
“Aye, Aye Captain.” ERNI’s voice fluttered from the ship’s intercom speakers.
“Holy shit. You really pulled it off.”
“Pulled what off?”
“You got your wish! You’re a starship AI now.”
ERNI was silent for a moment.
“I suppose you are right. This is… bad-ass.”
“There ya go!”
I fed Blady’s transponder key into the ship’s scanner.
“Pull coordinates and set a direct course.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Hey. You can still call me, Sam.”
“Okay… Sam.”
My gauntlet pinged with a new message:
“Heroes must do more…”
The sender was anonymous, however, below the text, was a set of stellar coordinates.
What the hell was this and who was sending it?
I already had a mission.
I closed the notification and scrolled past the tons of other notifications. GETM and UYK protests. Religious cults that claimed I was their savior.
My starship set out into deep space.
“Now Playing: “Rocket Man” by Elton John.”
“Good tune.” I nodded. “Add it to the playlist.”
“I do have something to give to you.” ERNI chirped.
“Yeah? What’s that?”
He produced something from my inventory—a dried leaf appeared in my palm.
“He wanted you to have this.”
I bit back tears as I closed my fist around the leaf.
I didn’t know where my friend was. But I knew that I was gonna find him. I was gonna scour the universe until me, Count B, and Sola were together again.
And I was going to make damn sure that Krivlax got what he deserved.
The ship’s thrusters revved up and the universe blurred to starlines.
Oh yeah.
I rubbed my elbow stump.
Vengeance was coming for Krivlax.
It was just a matter of time.
