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Atlas: Back to the Present - Time Travel + Post Apoc + OP MC
CHAPTER 138: Day 10 Evening : Judge and Jury

CHAPTER 138: Day 10 Evening : Judge and Jury

The ongoing council vote had brought many people to the settlement kiosk.

John, standing at Atlas’s side, shot him a concerned look. But Atlas shook his head. “There’s no time for recriminations, we need to act now.”

He turned to the Portal Crushers, his voice firm and commanding. “There are still visitors here, right?”

“Yep,” Alexander replied, nodding. “Tons of them. They don’t stop coming, especially with the arena fights at night and the brothels to keep them entertained. As long as the beer’s flowing, we’re doing okay.”

“Good,” Atlas said, his mind racing. He quickly scanned the group, making eye contact with each of the twenty-something Portal Crushers who had been battling demon dogs just minutes earlier. “I need you all to run through town right now and collect governance tokens. Some of these visitors must have them. We need enough to flip this vote.”

He glanced at the holographic display hovering above the kiosk, showing the vote tally. Shaniqua’s lead was slim but dangerous. The settlement kiosk was counting down from fifteen minutes, and they had only nine left.

“Offer everyone a free beer and a meal if they have a governance token,” Atlas ordered. “And get back here before that timer hits zero.”

The Portal Crushers scattered into the night, sprinting through the streets of Fort Bone with determination in their eyes. Atlas watched them go, feeling the weight of the countdown in every second that ticked by. ‘This is our town,‘ he thought. ‘And I’m not about to let it slip away without a fight.‘

Anger flared inside him. ‘This is it, he thought. Time to show these traitors what happens when you mess with the Portal Crushers.‘

“Beers and food for tokens! Beers and food for tokens! Trading for Governance tokens, get your free drinks and meals!” Alexander shouted, his boots pounding against the dirt roads. He darted into the Wasted Tavern, eyes scanning for potential targets. A group of visitors, already deep into their cups, looked up at him curiously.

“You all got governance tokens?” Alexander asked, barely catching his breath. “I’ll trade you for beers on the house.”

One of the men squinted, suspicious. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” Alexander replied smoothly. “We just need them for the council vote. You don’t need them, and meanwhile, beers are on us!”

“Hell yeah!”

The visitors, seeing no harm in the trade, reached into their pockets and handed over a small pile of tokens. Alexander grinned, swiping them up before the group could change their minds.

“Pleasure doing business!” He bolted out of the tavern, rushing toward the next group of unsuspecting travellers.

‘‘‘

Meanwhile, Lavender ducked through an alleyway, spotting a small crowd near the brothel lobby. She quickly rallied the working girls to get tokens.

“Hey honey got governance tokens?” she asked a guy, her tone friendly. “The Portal Crushers are giving out free meals for anyone who trades them in.”

The man standing with his companions raised an eyebrow. “Meals? What kind of meals?”

“Anything you want,” Lavender promised with a wink. “Just give me your tokens, and I’ll make sure you’re treated right.”

The working girls moved through the lobby, gathering tokens with saucy smiles and kisses. Deft hands reached into pockets, pulling out tokens and handing them to Lavender.

“Nice job girls!”

She nodded in thanks, quickly securing the tokens and dashing back toward the kiosk.

‘‘‘

All around Fort Bone, the Portal Crushers were in a mad rush. Isabella had cornered a group near the fighting pits, her twin swords crossed casually in front of her as she made her pitch. Her approach was more intimidating, but no less effective.

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“Listen, hand over your governance tokens now, and I’ll make sure you don’t regret it,” she said, her voice calm but laced with authority. The fighters, not wanting trouble, quickly turned over their tokens, which Isabella pocketed without another word. “Take these.” She chucked out a fist full of beer and food tokens, as she sprinted off.

The countdown loomed over Atlas’s head as he stood by the kiosk, his mind racing as more and more Portal Crushers returned. Sweat dripped down his forehead, his fingers tapping impatiently against the kiosk.

Countdown to vote end four minutes. The kiosk announced.

“Come on, come on…” he muttered under his breath, his eyes scanning the dark streets for the next batch of Crushers.

‘‘‘

Randy and Noi sprinted into view, tokens clutched tightly in their hands.

“We got some!” Noi gasped, practically collapsing as she reached the kiosk. Randy tossed his tokens to him, glancing nervously at the shrinking timer.

“Not enough yet,” Atlas said, frowning as he counted them. “We need more.”

Standing at the government settlement kiosk, Atlas was ready, his heart pounding in time with the countdown. As more of the Portal Crushers returned one by one, breathless but determined, he swiftly pumped the tokens into the machine. The numbers on the holographic display began to even out, and the anxious expressions on Sheniqua, Snedlie, and their accomplice's faces grew more pronounced.

Countdown to vote end three minutes.

The gap had closed to just four tokens. Atlas gritted his teeth, knowing they were close, but not close enough.

Countdown to vote end two minutes.

Lark appeared, sprinting toward the kiosk. "Atlas, I've got some! I've got a couple more!" she yelled, her voice strained with exhaustion.

"Run, Lark, run!" Atlas shouted back, his eyes locked on the countdown. But Lark was a porter not a warrior and was clearly out of breath, her pace was faltering. Without hesitation, John, who had been running beside her, scooped her up in a princess carry and sprinted toward the kiosk, determination etched on his face.

Countdown to vote end one minute.

As they reached the kiosk, John set Lark down, and with trembling hands, she pumped the coins into the machine, voting for Atlas with only seconds to spare.

“Council vote finished,” the machine declared in a robotic tone.

Current leader: Atlas.

The anti-violence dome around the kiosk flickered off.

Atlas exhaled, wiping the sweat from his brow. ‘This shouldn't have happened,‘ he thought, frustration gnawing at him. ‘I should have planned this better. And more importantly, it's time to get rid of some rats.‘

Without a moment's hesitation, he drew his twin swords, the cold steel gleaming in the dim light. Shaniqua’s eyes widened as she realised what was about to happen. She pushed Snedlie into the group of Portal Crushers and ran out towards the teleportation zone. Then desperately, she crushed the return token in her hand.

BERZOOP

The teleportation field ignited around her and her two accomplices, and in an instant, they dissolved into a cloud of particles, vanishing from sight.

The only one left was Snedlie. Caught in a scrum of angry Fort Bone citizens, he dropped to his knees, terror etched on his face. “Forgive me, Atlas! I was tricked! She told me what to do! I've got more to say—”

But Atlas had heard enough. Without a word, he swung his sword in a clean arc, silencing Snedlie mid-sentence, his head rolled to the ground. Snedlie’s unblinking eyes still look panicked from the severed head.

Atlas flicking off the blood, sheathed his swords. His expression hardening as he looked at the blood pooling around the body. "No more chances," Atlas muttered, his voice cold and resolute.

‘This is my town, and I won’t let anyone forget it.‘

John stared at Atlas, the blood dripping off his twin swords. The sight was grim, and the weight of what had just happened hung heavy in the air.

"What happened, Atlas?" John asked, his voice tense. He knew that Atlas was on a hair trigger right now, and saying too much could set him off.

Atlas wiped the blades clean, his expression dark. "Get this body out of here," he ordered, motioning to Snedlie’s decapitated corpse. "And meet me at the tavern. I need some beers."

Without another word, he turned on his heel and headed toward the tavern. Amber, Isabella, and Alexander followed close behind. The silence between them was thick with unspoken questions.

Once inside, Atlas quickly pumped in some coins, ordering a round of beers. He downed his first one faster than a Newfie on a tear, the cold liquid doing little to cool his anger.

“This was unexpected,” he finally said, setting his empty mug down with a thud.

Amber, still catching up with the chaos, asked, "What happened? I was hanging out in the crafting centre and suddenly heard all this shouting for beers and tokens."

Atlas shook his head, frustration clear in his eyes. “This was my fault. It was because of Episode 8.”

“Episode 8?” Alexander echoed, confused. “What do you mean, Episode 8?”

POV : CELESTIAL WAGER

At the Celestial Wager, the atmosphere was lively as the aliens watched the events at Fort Bone unfold. Zeltrax leaned back, clearly pleased with how things were playing out. "Now that was a gamble worth taking," he remarked as the outcome favored him.

Gorvax grumbled, having bet on Shaniqua, thinking she would manage to outmaneuver Atlas. "Next time," he muttered, already plotting his next wager.

Lurox fluttered around excitedly, chatting about the dramatic end to Snedlie. "Who saw that coming? Talk about a twist!"

Kroxar, unimpressed, rolled his eyes. "Predictable. Atlas was never going to let them win. What else did they expect?"

Virelia gracefully served drinks and pickled durian snacks.

The board flashed offering more rounds of bets as the patrons eagerly placed their next wagers, not just on Fort Bone, but on upcoming arena fights and future betrayals all over the wasteland.