POV : WASTELAND
The Wasted Tavern bustled with noise as patrons drank, laughed, and exchanged rumors about the new arenas. In a dimly lit corner, Mrs. Harrington, Victoria, and Mohammed sat around a table, each nursing their drinks. The flickering light from a nearby lantern cast long shadows on the rough-hewn wooden walls, while the scent of spiced meat filled the air.
Mrs. Harrington leaned back in her chair, a satisfied smirk on her lips as she toyed with her glass. “Well, boys, the arena in America United’s coming along nicely. Lawson’s got the crew working around the clock. By the end of the week, that blood pit’ll be ready for the crowds. Got him wrapped around my little finger.” She tapped her glass against the table lightly. “Ain’t nothing better than a man who’ll do whatever you tell him if you promise him power.” She had begun unknowingly to adapt to the less formal of way of speaking of her new adopted home.
Victoria raised an eyebrow, her own expression cool and measured. “Brute force and intimidation may work with men like Lawson, but in the Celestial Empire, it’s a bit more… delicate.” She swirled her drink, thinking back to her meetings with Minister Wei. “I’ve made sure the arena aligns with their traditions, their need for honor and spectacle. Minister Wei isn’t easily convinced, but he’s pragmatic. I gave him the prestige and profit he craved, and now, the groundwork is laid. The courtiers will follow his lead, and soon, they’ll flock to the arena like moths to a flame.”
Mrs. Harrington chuckled, the sound low and knowing. “You and your fancy talk. Doesn’t matter how you get there, long as it works. What’d you bribe him with, anyway?”
“A gift, not a bribe,” Victoria corrected, though the amusement in her eyes betrayed her. “A qilin statue—crafted from jade. It was a pricey vending machine purchase, but it worked. He appreciated the gesture. Sometimes, it’s not about the money, but what the gesture represents. To him, it was respect. And now, he has acknowledged me.”
Mrs. Harrington shook her head with a grin. “Sounds like a bribe to me.”
Mohammed, quiet until now, leaned forward, folding his arms on the table. “Both of you have made your moves. Now, it’s time for me to ensure Fort Bone keeps the Mana coins flowing. Without that, our arenas won’t survive long. Atlas runs a tight ship, but we need him to see the bigger picture. I’ll handle it. Once I do, we’ll have control of all three continents.”
He paused, his eyes sharp as he surveyed them both. “The empire of arenas is just beginning.”
Victoria smiled, her tone as smooth as ever. “The foundation’s been built. Fort Bone, America United, and the Celestial Empire—it’s all coming together.”
Mrs. Harrington lifted her glass in a mock toast. “To the future, then. Three continents, three arenas, and all the power that comes with it.”
Victoria clinked her glass with Mrs. Harrington’s, her eyes glinting with ambition. “And the world won’t know what hit it.”
Mohammed smiled, lifting his own glass. “Soon, it’ll all be ours.”
The clinking of their glasses was lost in the noise of the tavern, but the weight of their words lingered in the air. The empire of arenas was just beginning, and soon, they would have control over more than just continents.
They were playing a bigger game—one that might change the world.
‘‘‘
POV : FORT BONE WASTELAND
A full day passed, and frustration was starting to mirror the exhaustion etched on Atlas and Alexander’s faces. They had only managed to cover 20 kilometers around Fort Bone and the former Faith Settlement. It wasn’t terrible progress, especially given the upgraded skeleton hordes they’d fought off along the way, but it still wasn’t enough.
The skeletons weren’t just the usual variety anymore—armored skeletons, bestial rhinoceros skeletons, and a whole host of twisted, undead creatures were rising against them. Atlas swung his sword through another clattering bone figure, the sound of the bones hitting the ground echoing in his ears. ‘At least I’ve got that bonus against skeletal creatures,‘ he thought, remembering the achievement from his first fight against a skeleton.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
‘‘ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED:‘‘
‘‘TITLE: SKELETON CRUSHER‘‘
‘As the first person to kill a skeleton, you achieve extra damage against all skeletons and skeletal creatures.‘
The memory flashed before his eyes briefly, but it didn’t make the fights any less exhausting for his men. The creatures were smarter, faster, more organized. Atlas had even seen a skeletal version of a mutated rhinoceros, a massive pile of bones charging at them with terrifying force. ‘So that’s what it meant by 'bonus against skeletal creatures, it’s not just skeletons, but beasts too,’ he mused.
As night fell, he surveyed the camp. His men were exhausted, some nursing wounds, others sitting by the fire, repairing their battered armor. ‘This won’t last,‘ Atlas thought, watching them struggle. ‘It’s been too long since we upgraded their gear.‘ The new undead threat wasn’t just stronger—it was more organized. And Atlas knew they needed to be stronger. Tougher. Better geared.
‘‘‘
Around the edge of the camp, two young recruits sat, trying to fight off their nervous excitement. They had been assigned to the main army—Atlas’ army. That was something their comrades back in Fort Bone would never stop talking about.
"Can you believe we’re actually traveling with them?" one of the recruits, barely more than a boy, whispered as he fumbled with his belt strap. His eyes flicked constantly toward Atlas and Alexander, who stood discussing strategy near the fire.
"I know," his companion, an older recruit with a scar cutting across his brow, whispered back, trying to play it cool despite his clear excitement. "Atlas and Alexander, man. They're basically legends now."
The younger recruit laughed quietly, glancing at Atlas’s armor. "I still can’t get over the fact that Atlas wears pink armor. I thought it was a joke at first!"
The older recruit grinned. "Yeah, it’s funny, but you know what they say—if you’re tough enough, you can wear anything. Besides, with how many skeletons he's crushed, no one’s about to question his fashion choices."
The younger one nodded, eyes wide with admiration. "I heard he took down an entire horde of skeletons by himself. His sword just glowed like he was channelling some kind of magic."
The older recruit leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Rumor has it, he’s got this achievement that gives him extra damage against skeletal creatures. That’s why he’s so effective."
"No way!" the younger one whispered back, eyes gleaming with excitement. "Maybe we’ll get something like that. I mean, fighting alongside them has gotta count for something, right?"
The two of them fell silent for a moment, watching the legendary figures not far from them. Atlas, in his shining pink armor, and Alexander, a giant in his own right, stood as the embodiment of everything they aspired to be.
"Yeah," the older recruit finally muttered. "But we’ll have to survive first."
The younger recruit gave a nervous laugh, but both sat a little straighter, feeling the weight of the coming days settle over them. They weren’t just traveling with legends—they were expected to live up to their example.
As the campfire crackled and the night settled in, Atlas and Alexander’s conversation quieted, but the sense of urgency in the air remained.
Atlas looked over his men once more, his gaze briefly meeting that of the nervous recruits. For a moment, he considered going over to reassure them, but he decided against it. ‘They’ll learn,‘ he thought. ‘One way or another, they'll learn.‘
‘‘‘
As the Portal Crushers set up camp for the night, Atlas found himself standing near the fire, watching the newest recruits fumble with their gear. One of them, a young man with wide eyes and shaky hands, struggled to adjust his bone and Demon Dog hide helmet, his nerves seemed to be stretched thin. Atlas approached, his presence enough to make the recruit stiffen even more.
“First time out in the wasteland, huh?” Atlas asked, his tone calm but direct.
The recruit fumbled with the strap of his helmet, giving a shaky nod. “Y-yes, sir. Never thought I’d be out here. Not like this.”
Atlas gave a slight smile, crouching down to eye level. “Well, out here, there’s no room for not like this. You’re here now, and the wasteland doesn’t care if you’re ready or not. What’s your name?”
“R-Reggie, sir,” the recruit stammered, finally managing to secure his helmet. "Reggie Hart."
“Well, Reggie Hart, you’ve picked a hell of a time to join us. We’re hunting skeletons, and trust me, they’re not the kind you’ve seen lying peacefully in graves. You scared?”
Reggie hesitated before nodding. “Yes, sir. I mean, no—well, yes. A bit.”
Atlas chuckled softly, clapping the young man on the shoulder. “Good. Fear is the mind killer. But you’ve got to learn how to control it, or it’ll control you. Out here, losing your head means losing your life. And I don’t plan on adding your name to the wall anytime soon.”
Reggie swallowed hard, glancing at the other soldiers who seemed at ease despite the looming dangers. “How do they do it? I mean, they don’t seem afraid at all.”
“They are,” Atlas said simply. “They’ve just learned how to use it. It’s like any other tool—fear can keep you alive if you let it. But it can also get you killed if you panic. Stick close to your squad, follow orders, and stay sharp. Trust in the training, and you’ll make it through.”
Reggie nodded again, his grip tightening on his sword. “I’ll do my best, sir.”
Atlas stood, giving him one last look. “Your best is all we need, Reggie. Out here, that’s what keeps you and everyone else alive. Now get some rest—you’ll need it for tomorrow.”
As Atlas turned to leave, Reggie called after him, his voice a little steadier. “Thank you, sir.”
Atlas didn’t look back, but his voice carried through the night. “Don’t thank me yet. You’ve got a long way to go.”