Joe smiled at Gaia as she approached.

“You can wipe that roguish look off your face; you’re not charming anyone. Think of this as a stay of execution.” Despite the confidence in Gaia's words, Joe knew she was licking her wounded pride. Reputation was everything to her, and she’d been aiming for a single-round win.

Joe didn’t answer and saved his energy for what was to come. The arena shifted like some glitch in the Matrix, and Joe’s grin faded as the ground rumbled, jarring every bone in his body. A mound rose before them about a football pitch away, carrying a white flag atop it, emblazoned with an ancient symbol—one he’d seen before—a serpent eating its tail.

“Ouroboros,” Gaia said, her tone as self-righteous as it was indignant. Regaining her composure, a sly smile curled on her lips. “A rogue against a sorceress in a race? Joe, that’s like bringing a butter knife to a gunfight. I’ll have that flag before you can say ‘abracadabra.’”

Joe snorted, half-amused. “Butter knife, huh?” He casually pulled out one of his twin butterfly knives, flicking it open with a smooth whirl of the blade that caught the light just right. “Guess I’ll have to spread the victory nice and thick.”

Joe’s shoulders tensed as words Sudden Death Rules flashed across his vision.

The rules were clear: no physical fouls. If you touched your opponent—intentionally or accidentally—you’d be frozen on the spot, giving the other player a five-second head start.

“Give up while you can, Sanpei! You’re no match for me.” Gaia tilted her head back, letting out one of those over-the-top anime villainess laughs. “Ahahaha!” It was all high-pitched and theatrical, echoing through the arena. She winked at him like she’d already won.

Joe rolled his eyes as the terrain morphed into some twisted, bizarro version of Wipeout. Fire cacti sprouted up along the path, their flaming spines daring him to get too close. Lava pools bubbled ominously, practically begging for someone to misstep and take a ‘melt the flesh off your bones’ dip.

[Alert: Ascender 78 has placed a bet of 30 years.]

Call or raise your bet?]

Joe’s stomach tightened. If he didn’t match the bet, it was game over. No, worse—he’d lose everything he’d already wagered, plus a precious training session. Left with no choice because he was the challengee—if that’s even a word, Joe thought—he accepted the terms.

[All bets are in.]

[Battlebox Sudden Death: One Objective–Be the first to capture the flag. Time Limit: 3’ Prize Pool: 134 Years.]

He tugged the cords of his hoodie, its new shade of red a stark contrast to Gaia’s orange.

“And remember,” Gaia taunted, her voice dripping with mockery, “if you die, you can respawn—but it’ll cost you more than one year. Did you read the fine print during your induction? No? Too bad.” Something in her eyes told him this was all for show; she was playing a part, and he should play his if he wanted to woo the crowds of ascenders watching on screens or in the replays.

Joe never had time for that shit. He wanted to win, yeah, sure, but he didn’t want to play the part of some asshole competitor to win hearts or intimidate future opponents.

Gaia mentioned sponsorship—was that why she was going all out with the anime villain trope?

[Battle begins in five seconds.]

He dropped that thought as soon as the countdown began. Each second dragged out as Joe’s muscles coiled, ready to spring.

The moment the timer hit zero, Gaia took off like a bullet, her speed catching Joe off guard. She was fast—way faster than he’d expected.

Joe exploded into a sprint, feet pounding against the volcanic terrain. He could see Gaia pace ahead, her eyes locked on the flag. For a moment, he was right on her heels—but then, like she’d been holding back, Gaia kicked into high gear and left him in the dust.

Activating Quick Wit, he looked for the shortest route to cut her off before she reached the base of the mound. He dashed forward, gaining ground, leaping over the least prickly-looking fire cacti. It was all about the economy of movement, and his skill and light footwork helped him gain ground on the almost gravity-defying sorceress using her Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon aerial acrobatics. He hoped showing off to the ‘crowds’ would cost her.

As she soared over a bubbling lava pool, Joe noticed the glow from Gaia’s bracelet wrapped around her wrist like a living thing, pulsing with dark energy.

Joe’s heart skipped a beat. She’s not just fast,he thought. She’s got everything planned out.

Then luck turned in Joe’s favor.

Gaia misjudged a jump, her foot slipping on the edge of a molten rock. Time seemed to slow down as she teetered dangerously close to the bubbling lava below.

Joe didn’t think—he reacted. With a burst of adrenaline, he lunged forward, his hand shooting out to grab her arm.

His grip was firm, grasped in time to stop her from falling, but the moment his fingers made contact, a jolt shot through him like he’d grabbed a live wire. Every muscle in his body seized, freezing him in place. He couldn’t move, couldn’t even blink.A five second countdown appeared in his vision.

The Lich’s cruel laughter echoed. “Oh my Poppy, what a shame! Ascender 9 engaged in a foul.”

The blue flame heated Joe’s chest, its voice curling through Joe’s thoughts like smoke. “Poppy’s always been naive. But that’s a dick move, Lich.”

Glad to see you’re on my side.

Joe had to wonder if the blue flame had a personality transplant during his episode of silence but quickly brushed the thought aside.

Joe’s mind raced, but his body remained rigid, locked in place by some unseen force. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, and the only thing keeping him conscious was the desperate gasping of his lungs, trying to keep him alive.

Joe’s frustration boiled over as Gaia’s smirk returned, her confidence renewed. She didn’t waste a second—he was frozen in place, and she was already a blur, darting toward the flag with a grace that made his heart sink. She was gaining ground fast, and Joe could do nothing but watch as she closed the distance.

The final second ticked by; the penalty countdown ended. The paralysis lifted like a heavy blanket being ripped off. Joe gasped, his body trembling as adrenaline surged back into his veins.

There was no time to waste. He tore a paracord from his inventory, his fingers moving with practiced precision as he swung it toward a jagged rock above. The cord caught, and with every ounce of strength he had left, Joe hauled himself up the volcanic mountain, his muscles screaming in protest.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

[Eternal Honor Scaler activated.]

The lava below bubbled, a constant reminder of the stakes. One wrong move, one slip, and it would all be over. But Joe’s mind was laser-focused. He wasn’t going to let Gaia win—not when he was this close.

Gaia was nearly at the flag, her hand outstretched, ready to claim victory. Joe reached into his inventory, his mind racing. He needed something—anything—to slow her down. His hand closed around a smoke pellet, and without hesitating, he hurled it ahead of him.

The pellet exploded on impact, a thick cloud of smoke billowing out and engulfing Gaia’s path. She hesitated, thrown off by the sudden obstruction, and that was all Joe needed.

He pushed himself harder, his muscles burning, but he didn’t care. The flag was right there—he could almost taste victory.

With one final, desperate burst of strength, Joe reached the top of the mound. His fingers stretched out, brushing against the flag as Gaia emerged from the smoke, her eyes wide with disbelief.

He didn’t hesitate—he grabbed the flag and yanked it free from its post.

[Battlebox Winner: Ascender 9, granted the prize pool of 135 years, now known as Ascender 144. Fifty mana particles awarded. One more step closer to the Crystalline Jackpot of immortality.]

Joe stood there, panting, his green hoodie rising with each heave of his chest, the adrenaline slowly drained from his system. The barriers of the battlebox began to fade, and he took a deep breath, letting the realization of his victory sink in. But beneath the surface, came the creeping exhaustion of mana drain.

The excitement of victory dulled slightly as Joe approached Gaia. Despite everything, he believed in good sportsmanship. He opened a trade window, offering her a portion of the time she’d lost.

“Here,” he said, offering a handshake, keeping his tone steady despite the fatigue gnawing at him. “You fought well. Take it.”

Gaia met his gaze, her chin held high, defiance flickering in her eyes. She twisted the bracelet around her wrist, her voice cold as she replied, “Keep it.”

As she turned away, her hoodie shifted from orange to a deep, ominous red. Without another word, Gaia disappeared, leaving Joe standing alone at the edge of the arena, his victory feeling a little more hollow.

Leaving the arena, Joe’s body trembled slightly, the aftereffects of pushing himself too hard.

Entering the common room, his friends rushed to greet him, Brian offering him a mana potion.

Joe gratefully took a swig. His fatigue gave way to a twinge of regret when he noticed Ryan searching with hopeful eyes for Gaia. When he realized she wasn’t there, the little flag dwarfed in his hand fell to his side.

Joe spotted Andras, standing at the edge of a crowd of his followers. The man’s sneer was unmistakable, his voice rising to rally others to his side. “Join my faction, and you’ll be protected from the likes of Joe.” Andras’s posture seemed to scream ‘don’t dare resist’.

His friends' cheers faded into the background as Joe made his way over to Ryan and the rest of the Blanche Brigade. The screens in the common room must not have shown Gaia’s hoodie and pants turning red, or her being sent back to the Red Zone, so he figured he’d better explain what had happened.

Andras sneered, his voice cutting through the air with that grating tone Joe had come to associate with bad news. “Looking for your girlfriend, Ryan? She’s way out of your league.”

Joe caught the flash in Ryan’s eyes—protective, but not in that possessive way. No, this was different. It was the kind of look you give when you’re not simply defending someone you care about, but someone who’s practically family.

Ryan stared at Andras, a cheerful grin forming on his face.

But Joe knew better.

Ryan’s voice was light and friendly as he stared the dark elf down. “Get your fokkin’ floppy fringe out of my face, Andras,” he said, soft enough to almost sound polite, “before I scalp you and shove it all down that piehole of yours.”

Andras remained steady, unwavered by the threat.

Ryan’s eyes brightened, he continued delivering the treat like it was friendly advice, “think of it as a favor to stop all that verbal diarrhea from spilling out and getting you into a world of trouble.”

The blue flame’s voice in Joe’s head was filled with awe. “Ryan is my favorite kind of person—smiling while he’s loading the gun.”

Joe didn’t reply, he was too busy wishing he could snap a photo of the shock crossing Andras’s face. Dawn would probably want to frame it on a wall.

Joe moved closer to Ryan, lowering his voice as he spoke. “I tried to give the winnings back to Gaia,” he said, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening. “But she refused. Stubborn as hell.”

Ryan’s eyes softened with understanding, but there was a flicker of concern too. “She’s proud, Joe. But it’s a rough spot to be in.”

Joe nodded, feeling the weight of it all. “That’s why I offered in the first place. I didn’t want to see her drop into the Red Zone. I figured maybe… I don’t know, maybe I could help.”

Ryan looked at Joe, really looked at him, and then nodded. “You did what you could. But pride’s a tricky thing… At least you tried, brother. Please, don’t you worry about it anymore, I’ll get her out of the red by telling her we can’t survive in the Green Zone without her.”

The way he glanced at Andras right then made Joe think that Ryan might have a black belt in being nice, but inside, there was an unblinking hurricane of vengeance brewing.

Joe shrugged, feeling a little helpless. “Yeah, but trying doesn’t always count for much around here.”

Ryan reached out, clapping Joe on the shoulder. “It counts more than you think. Family before all else, right? Did you remember your family from your last life, Joe?”

The question caught Joe off guard. He opened his mouth to reply, but Ryan was already fishing a small, worn picture out of his pocket. “Oh! I haven’t shown you a picture of my wife, have I? Here she is, my angel.”

Ryan’s face softened as he looked at the picture, like it was the only thing anchoring him to this world. “I tell people she actually looks like an angel. See this? The white around her head—it’s like a halo.”

Joe leaned in for a closer look. The picture was old, like something Botticelli might’ve painted, but the woman in it wasn’t human. Her face was covered with emerald green scales, beautiful in an otherworldly way that reminded Joe of that Renaissance painting he once saw called The Birth of Venus.

Ryan smiled, a mix of pride and nostalgia flickering in his eyes as he looked at the picture of his wife. He seemed to weigh something in his mind before speaking.

“You know,” he began, his voice carrying a quiet strength, “I was a kobold in my last life. How about you?”

Joe raised an eyebrow. “A kobold, huh? I was and am human. And you now–I couldn't quite tell?”

Ryan chuckled, a sound that was warm but carried a certain edge to it. “Now? I’m a dwarf changeling hybrid. A bit of both worlds, I guess. Strong as a dwarf, with a knack for blending in like a changeling. It’s a weird mix, but it works for me.”

Joe looked at him, trying to picture the kobold Ryan once was. But what stood in front of him was someone different—someone who had been through a transformation, but who hadn’t lost the core of who he was.

“Sounds like you got the best of both,” Joe said, not hiding the awe in his tone.

Ryan’s voice shifted, slipping into what sounded like English with a Dutch accent—just like Mr. Van Dyke, Joe’s high school history teacher who always smelled like coffee and chalk dust.

“My memories are fading, but this photo…” Ryan traced the image with his thumb, “ it’s like my anchor to my past. I grabbed it from my stuff in the induction room.”

Joe’s mind flashed to the photo of his sister, the one that used to be tucked safely in his wallet. He could see it like it was yesterday—his sister, before she got sick, with that cheeky grin and her tongue sticking out like she was daring the world to mess with her. She’d been the center of his universe, and she knew it.

“Yeah, I still think about my kid sister…” Joe said, voicing his thoughts without realizing at first.

“Bet you loved her more than the stars,” Ryan said, snapping Joe back to the present.

“You bet,” Joe said, a smile tugging at his lips, though the memory stung.

Ryan carefully slipped the picture back into his pocket as his Blanche Brigade crew started becoming restless. “We should get moving, but let’s figure out a way to meet up out on Floor Two.”

Joe nodded, already running through the possibilities in his head. “Brian might have some ideas. We can’t join party chat or talk directly between zones… yet.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Yet?”

Joe grinned, a plan forming in his mind. “Yeah, but I’ve got a feeling Poppy might have a clever workaround.”

Before they parted ways, Joe opened a trade window and shook hands with Ryan to transfer the winnings he had tried to give to Gaia earlier. “Here,” Joe said, pressing into Ryan’s hand. “Make sure she gets it. She’s too stubborn to take it from me, but maybe she’ll listen to you.”

Nodding, Ryan gave him a sad smile.

As Ryan and his faction turned to head back to the Green Zone, Joe caught Andras shooting Ryan a look that was anything but friendly. The smile on Andras’s face was purely for show, but the eyes—those were all daggers.

Joe’s smile turned cold. If Andras thinks he’s the big bad here, he’s about to learn what it’s like to get sent packing, Team Rocket-style—straight out of the arena.