Sixteen skeletons on the floor, two archers above, and a hulking guardian to block my path. If I had to wager a guess, that crystal energy shield would prevent me from opening the gate. I’d have to disable that as well somehow.

Pillars for cover, two grenades on my hip, an energy pistol, a stun baton, a bolt action rifle slung over my shoulder, some magical gloves, and old biker armor.

> 40% chance of victory

Not impossible, but it would be a tight squeeze. I’d have to hedge this somehow.

The ancient warriors formed a close-knit box formation at the base of the staircase. The front rank lowered their polearms, preventing me from approaching head-on. The sides faced outward to address any threat that tried to flank them. It would be effective if I had any desire to close in for hand-to-hand combat.

That would be-

CRASH!

An arrow the size of a claymore sailed just above my head and into the wall behind me. I didn’t have to turn to look at the devastation it wrought on impact; I could feel chunks of limestone plummet to the floor around me. A fist-sized piece struck the square of my back and I nearly lost my balance.

Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.

The mass of bone and metal in front of me made an advance. I looked up just in time to spot the second archer aiming for my position. Their assault had begun.

I rolled to my left in time to avoid being skewered by the next ballista round. The wound on my forearm stung when I landed on it. When I looked down, I saw a fresh coat of red dripping from my makeshift bandages.

“Shit.”

I shimmied over to the nearest pillar for cover, peering around the side to keep tabs on my foe.

The box shifted directions as it moved. They approached me diagonally now, three warriors leading the charge from the formation’s lead corner. Slowly, methodically, they honed in on my place of cover. Both archers reloaded and were trained on the column that protected me.

It dawned on me that their projectiles could probably pierce the solid foot of stone that made up the support beam. Nowhere in this room would be safe from their bow fire if that were the case. A cold sweat broke on my neck, I felt like a fish in a barrel, and I sure as hell didn’t want to stay here long enough to test my hypothesis.

I decided to make a move; I’d carve my way through the skeleton fodder and disable those archers somehow. Dealing with Goliath was a separate issue.

A grenade appeared in my right hand and I depressed the primer. Taking careful aim, I rolled it into the path of the approaching mob.

Thwack!

An arrow obliterated the sphere seconds after I released it. I barely shielded myself behind the pillar as its plasma contents spewed indiscriminately over the room.

“Damnit!” I growled, leaping from my hiding place to the next closest pillar. As I dashed through the open I stole a glance at the damage the premature explosion created.

Half of the column melted away in sopping piles of molten stone. It looked like a Tar Shark took a massive bite out of its center. The gambit hadn’t been a complete failure, though. The front three skeletons were coated in plasma. They spasmed as they fell, collapsing into a disintegrating pool of calcium.

“Got milk?”

I grimaced as soon as the words left my mouth. I was under pressure but I could do better than that.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The barbed tip of an arrow ripping through the pillar beside my head sobered me up real quick.

I guess that answered that question. Cover was effectively useless against these anti-armor projectiles. Sheer luck prevented it from decorating the walls with my grey-matter.

Turning around the column, I saw just how close the skeletons had come to my position. The back two ranks of their formation broke off to the left and right, creating a semi-circle to blockade me on this side of the room.

As urgent as it was to fight out of their stranglehold, I could do nothing until the archers were taken care of. They already made me waste one of my precious grenades. Only one remained now - I would have to ensure its effective use.

A semi-automatic energy pistol would be useful mowing down the lower-tier soldiers surrounding me, but I doubted its use against the giant archers from this distance. I whipped out the Saker rifle for the first time since my duel with the Falconer. I prayed its power and accuracy would be enough to pierce the thick skulls of these marksmen.

The archer closest to me, on the left side of the room, reached for his quiver as I brought the iron sights of the hunting rifle between the blue glow of his eyes. I dropped to one knee for a more steady platform, filling my lungs with a deep breath to steady myself. At the bottom of my exhale, I squeezed the trigger.

Bone fragments flew from the ranger’s forehead as a third hole opened up where I sent my shot. The fire in his eyes extinguished, mystic bindings holding his bones together disintegrated and his massive frame collapsed into a pile of debris. One down, one to go.

But time had run out. The nearest warrior took a swipe at me with his polearm and I narrowly avoided it by falling backward into a roll. This brought me into the range of another soldier, who caught the top of my shoulder with his rusty blade.

Hopefully Dr. Crass had tetanus shots.

The other bowman would have to wait. I didn’t have time to line up another shot while surrounded by the living dead.

I swung the strap of the Saker around my back, stinging my fresh wound in the process. I grimaced but continued moving, putting distance between myself and the encroaching line. I smiled when I remembered I didn’t have to manually reach for my Thurma and Tenderizer. Both materialized in my hand with a single thought. Now was the time for my assault.

Backed into a corner, bloody and tired, chips down - that was the story of my whole damn life. I was no stranger to fighting out of a tough situation. As a constant underdog, people never bet on you. You could let that drag you down or you could learn to bet on yourself. Sure, there were a thousand better situations to be in right now, but I was on a winning streak so far, right?

One thing was for sure - my story wasn’t about to end here.

I’d never killed before this competition. I had wanted to, several times, but I never had the chance, the agency, or the guts to do it. I was no stranger to playing unfairly to get what I wanted, but this competition had forced me to evolve further. To win, to get to where I needed to go, I would have to kill. Take a life here or there, or spare one when I could. What mattered now is I knew what I was capable of. I didn’t have to let the strong of society push me around any longer.

I would never be the underdog again.

I charged into the thinnest portion of the skeleton line, where it was only two bodies deep. The warrior out front thrust his polearm at me, but I tapped it to the side with the head of my baton. I raised my Thurma to his gap-toothed jaw and pulled the trigger, blowing out his head in a flash of light.

Before his body could fall, I shoved it into the spear of the soldier behind him. The tip caught in his comrade's ribcage and he was unable to defend himself as I slammed my Tenderizer onto his helmet. The skeleton’s body seized up under the electric shock. Sparks flew from the impact of the charged baton onto cold metal. He crumpled to the floor a mess of smoldering bones.

With the line cleared, I sprinted to the far side of the room. That should give me enough time to take on the second archer. The skeletons moved slowly, unwilling to advance outside of the safety of some semblance of formation.

When I looked up to the parapets I found a noticeable lack of a certain skeletal archer.

“Where the hell did you go?” I scanned the top floor for any sign of the marksman. All I could see was the bulky shield of the guardian, still standing in front of the crystal.

Then the shield tilted inwards to allow for the archer it obscured to get a clear shot on me. My mind barely registered the arrow as it soared through the air. I threw myself to the ground.

I felt the air above me vibrate as it flew through what would have been my midsection. The arrow impaled limestone brick, shaking the whole room with its force. I raised my head and reached for my rifle. The shield shifted back in place to protect the archer as he reached for another round.

The warped, twisted frame of the aegis covered both its wielder and the archer with room to spare. There was no getting a shot around that thing.

That left me with one option. I had to shoot the archer as it shot at me.

I didn’t have time to weigh any other odds. The skeleton army reformed and cleared the room’s floor in the time it took for me to avoid becoming a kebab. They had already made a new semi-circle around this half of the room. I would only get one more shot.

> 50% chance

Him or me.

I jumped from the floor and rushed the closest pillar, propping my Saker on its side for additional stability. A nearby skeleton growled some animalistic tongue at me, waving its speartip from a few meters away. His armor shuffled loosely over his frame as he walked. Perhaps in life he was a brave warrior, but now he was nothing but a sluggish threat at best. My eyes were trained on the edge of the shield the archer hid behind.

Except when the shield moved, it went the opposite direction this time. The archer peered out from the warrior’s right shoulder, not the left like the first time. I hastily adjusted my sights, but my mind streamed a flurry of incoherent curses.

He loosed his arrow. I squeezed the trigger of my Saker. My eardrums burst from the concussive force and the world erupted in a sea of white.