The wall groaned and split apart as jagged cracks raced along its surface. Dust and fragments of plaster rained down, and with a thunderous crash, the entire section collapsed inward. Emerging from the debris was a creature that defied comprehension—an amalgamation of twisted steel, glowing circuitry, and raw muscle, its hulking form dripping with some dark, viscous substance that hissed as it hit the ground.
Its head was a nightmarish, asymmetrical fusion of a beast’s snarl and a machine’s cold precision. One eye glowed with a fiery red light, while the other was a shattered lens that flickered erratically. Its arms were grotesque, one ending in a serrated claw that pulsed like a living thing, the other a brutal hodgepodge of wires and exposed pistons, each movement accompanied by a metallic shriek.
“Okay,” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper. “That’s new.”
The doppelgänger hissed, its blades spinning faster, screeching in defiance. Without hesitation, it lunged at the intruder, blades slicing toward the larger creature’s midsection.
The newcomer moved with terrifying speed, its claw intercepting the attack with a deafening clang. Sparks erupted as the two locked in a brutal struggle, the doppelgänger’s whirring blades grinding against the claw like a circular saw against reinforced steel.
Elmo’s voice crackled in my head. “Blake, buddy, I know you’re busy wetting yourself, but now might be a great time to run! Or, you know, grab something sharp and pray.”
“I’m working on it!” I yelled, diving behind the workbench. My heart was pounding, my hands trembling as I searched frantically for anything I could use. The crossbow lay discarded near the lawn mower, but getting to it meant darting between two monsters currently trying to kill each other.
The larger creature roared, a sound like shattering glass mixed with a lion’s growl, and slammed the doppelgänger into the wall. The impact sent shockwaves through the room, knocking tools off the walls and rattling the workbench. The doppelgänger twisted free, its blades carving a deep gouge into the beast’s side, but it didn’t even flinch.
Instead, the larger monster’s claw shot forward, grabbing the doppelgänger’s torso. With a sickening crunch, it hoisted the smaller creature into the air and flung it across the room. The doppelgänger crashed into the opposite wall, its blades sparking erratically as it struggled to rise.
I glanced back at the crossbow. “I need that.”
“And I need you alive,” Elmo snapped. “So maybe wait until they’re not using the workshop as a wrestling ring.”
The larger creature turned toward me, its glowing eye locking onto my position. My breath caught as it took a single, deliberate step forward. Its claw flexed, dripping that same black substance onto the floor, where it hissed and smoked on contact.
“Oh great,” Elmo muttered. “It’s got murder-eyes for you now. Guess it’s time to die heroically! Or just die—both are on the table.”
The doppelgänger suddenly launched itself from the wreckage with a screech, its blades spinning like a cyclone. It collided with the larger monster mid-stride, the impact sending them both crashing into the lawn mower.
“No, no, no!” I shouted as the mower’s glowing engine flared to life, the pulsing light intensifying until the room was bathed in an eerie red glow.
The system’s voice boomed, louder and more ominous than ever.
"STABILIZATION ERROR DETECTED. INITIATING PURGE."
“What the hell does that mean?!” I yelled, panic setting in.
“I’m guessing it’s not a party trick,” Elmo deadpanned. “You might wanna duck.”
Before I could process what was happening, the lawn mower erupted in a violent surge of energy, a shockwave ripping through the workshop. I was thrown backward, my head smacking against the edge of the workbench. Stars danced in my vision as I struggled to focus.
Through the haze, I saw the two creatures locked in a brutal death grip, their forms silhouetted against the glowing inferno of the lawn mower’s core. The air crackled with energy, the light growing brighter and brighter until it was blinding.
And then, everything went dark.
The darkness wasn’t peaceful. It was thick and oppressive, like being wrapped in a suffocating blanket. My ears were ringing, my body felt heavy, and the faint smell of burning metal lingered in the air. I blinked rapidly, trying to adjust, but my vision refused to cooperate.
“Blake?” Elmo’s voice was faint, a rare hint of uncertainty in his tone. “You still with me, champ? Or should I start composing your obituary?”
I groaned, lifting a hand to my throbbing head. “If I’m dead, this is the worst afterlife ever.”
“Good news, then—you’re alive!” Elmo chirped, his usual sarcasm creeping back. “Bad news: so are they.”
A jolt of adrenaline shot through me. I scrambled to my feet, vision still blurry, but the shapes in front of me were clear enough. Both creatures were moving, though barely. The larger one had collapsed near the smoldering husk of the lawn mower, its claw twitching weakly as sparks danced along its damaged frame. The doppelgänger wasn’t much better, dragging itself forward on one blade, the other hanging limp and useless.
“Seriously?” I muttered. “Can’t you both just... stay down?”
“Nope!” Elmo sang. “Because that would be too easy. And we both know your life doesn’t do ‘easy.’ Now, might I suggest finishing one of them off before they recover and turn you into a human piñata?”
I glanced around the workshop, my pulse racing. The crossbow was gone, swallowed by the chaos. My tools were scattered everywhere, most of them either broken or too small to be useful. Then my eyes landed on something half-buried under a pile of debris: the long-handled wrench I’d used to tighten the mower’s blades.
It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. I lunged for it, nearly tripping over the remains of the workbench, and yanked it free.
“Great choice,” Elmo quipped. “It’s like Excalibur, but sadder.”
Ignoring him, I turned back to the monsters. The doppelgänger was closer, its single functioning blade dragging across the floor as it struggled to rise. Its fractured faceplate glowed faintly, the light flickering in time with its labored movements.
I steadied myself and activated the SCAN skill, the faint glow of the system interface overlaying my vision.
Mechanical Doppelgänger
LEVEL: ????
HP: ????
MP: ????
Apex Juggernaut (Prototype)
LEVEL: ????
HP: ????
MP: ????
“What the hell?” I muttered, frowning at the screen. “Why am I only getting question marks back?”
“Oh, that’s simple,” Elmo chirped. “They’re way, way out of your league. Like, you’re playing T-ball, and they’re Major League All-Stars hopped up on steroids.”
I groaned, wiping a hand over my face. “Great. Just great.”
“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger!” Elmo added. “Your SCAN skill maxes out at a ten-level difference. Anything higher, and you get the mystery box treatment. Let’s face it, buddy—these guys are less ‘mob fight’ and more ‘boss raid.’ You’re like a level 2 rat trying to take down a dragon with a toothpick. No offense.”
“None taken,” I grumbled. “Totally thrilled to hear I’m overqualified for a quick and painless death.”
“Silver lining!” Elmo said, voice oozing with forced optimism. “The doppelgänger’s core is exposed, so... I don’t know, swing really hard? Aim for the glowy bit?”
“Thanks for the hot tip, genius.”
My jaw clenched as I stared at the screen. “So I’m fighting two monsters way out of my league, with barely any health left, and one of them has a shielded core?”
“Yup!” Elmo replied, cheerful as ever. “Welcome to the wonderful world of Blake Morgan! It’s like someone looked at your life and said, ‘You know what this needs? More existential dread.’”
I exhaled sharply, glancing between the two. The doppelgänger was dragging itself upright, its glowing core flickering erratically. The juggernaut clawed at the ground, sparks flying as it attempted to rise. I tightened my grip on the wrench and took a step forward.
“Well,” I muttered. “Guess I better start aiming for the glowy bit.”
“Atta boy!” Elmo said, slipping into a sportscaster voice. “And in tonight’s matchup, we’ve got Blake ‘The Underdog’ Morgan versus two towering titans of terror! Will he win? Will he survive? Or will he become a very squishy statistic? Stay tuned!”
“Alright,” I muttered, gripping the wrench tightly. “Let’s end this.”
I stepped forward, raising the wrench over my head, when the doppelgänger suddenly froze. Its head jerked to the side, focusing on the larger creature, which had begun to stir. A low, mechanical growl filled the room, and the doppelgänger’s blade spun faster, the sound rising to a shrill whine.
“Uh-oh,” Elmo said. “Looks like we’re heading straight into Kong vs. Godzilla: Garage Edition. Spoiler alert: you’re the screaming humans caught in the middle.”
The doppelgänger lunged—not at me, but at its rival. It slammed into the larger creature with surprising force, its blade carving into the exposed wires on the beast’s arm. Sparks flew, and the larger monster roared in pain, its claw swiping wildly. The two collided again, their combined weight crashing into the remains of the lawn mower.
“Blake!” Elmo shouted. “If you don’t do something now, we’re going to find out if Godzilla’s atomic breath works on budget lawn equipment!”
I didn’t hesitate. With a yell, I charged forward, the wrench aimed straight for the doppelgänger’s exposed core. It noticed me too late, its glowing eye flickering in alarm just before the wrench struck home. The impact sent a jolt up my arms, but it was worth it. The doppelgänger spasmed violently, its blade sputtering out as it collapsed in a heap.
+3630XP
Level UP!
Before I could catch my breath, the larger creature let out a deafening roar. Its glowing eye locked onto me, and for a moment, I thought I was done for. But then its movements slowed, its claw falling limply to the ground. A faint whirring sound came from deep within its chest, growing weaker by the second, until it finally stopped. The light in its eye dimmed, and it slumped over, motionless.
Silence.
I stood there, chest heaving, the wrench still clutched in my trembling hands. The room was a wreck, the air thick with smoke and the acrid smell of burned electronics. For a long moment, I didn’t move, afraid that even the slightest noise might wake them up again.
“Well,” Elmo said, breaking the silence. “That was... something. Ten out of ten for drama. But in terms of monster matchups, this was like watching a bootleg Kong vs. Godzilla. Less cool destruction, more sad flailing.”
I let out a shaky laugh, wiping sweat from my forehead. “You’re welcome.”
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Elmo continued. “I’m thrilled you survived. Mostly because it means I don’t have to deal with your replacement. But seriously, Blake? A wrench? That’s your big hero moment? Not even a fire breath finisher?”
“It worked, didn’t it?” I snapped, tossing the wrench aside. My legs finally gave out, and I sank to the floor, exhaustion washing over me.
“For now,” Elmo said ominously. “But something tells me this isn’t the last time you’ll be playing monster exterminator. So maybe invest in a better weapon. Or, you know, get a giant ape to do your dirty work next time.”
I closed my eyes, letting the adrenaline drain away. “One problem at a time, Elmo.”
“Fine,” he said, his voice softening slightly. “But don’t get too comfortable. The system’s still watching, and I doubt it’s impressed.”
The faint hum of machinery echoed in the distance, a reminder that this nightmare was far from over. But for now, I was alive. And that was enough.
The adrenaline was gone, leaving me with nothing but a pounding headache, sore muscles, and the faint scent of burnt metal in the air. I staggered over to the larger monstrosity, eyeing the sparking remains of its limbs.
“Alright,” I muttered, planting my hands on my hips. “Let’s see if there’s anything useful here. If I’m stuck playing scavenger, I might as well get something out of it.”
“Oh, big plans?” Elmo piped up, his tone a mix of curiosity and sarcasm. “Care to share with the class?”
I crouched next to the beast’s shattered core, inspecting its still-glowing fragments. “Yeah, big plans. Like turning this junk into something I can actually use.”
“Wow. Ambitious. I give it five minutes before you zap yourself.”
I ignored him and focused on prying loose the largest intact piece of the core. It came free with a hiss of escaping energy, faint pulses of light rippling across its surface. My system interface flickered briefly, registering the item.
ITEM ACQUIRED: Unknown Power Core
Status: Partially Damaged
Contains high-density energy reserves. Potential applications include weaponry, defense systems, and workshop upgrades.
“Well, well,” Elmo said, whistling. “That’s some prime loot right there. Be a shame if someone, oh, I don’t know, mishandled it and exploded.”
I shot him an irritated glance. “If I blow up, you’re coming with me, remember?”
“Touche,” he replied. “Carry on, McGuyver.”
Over the next hour, I worked methodically, stripping both monsters of anything remotely useful. The doppelgänger’s exposed core had shattered during the fight, but its plating and internal wiring were surprisingly intact. I pulled free cables, servos, and a strange crystalline structure I didn’t recognize, tossing them into a growing pile near the workbench.
ITEM ACQUIRED: Reinforced Plating
Status: Intact
Lightweight and durable. Suitable for armor or structural enhancements.
ITEM ACQUIRED: Unknown Crystal Matrix
Status: Stable
Emits a faint energy signature. Potential uses: unknown.
By the time I was done, I had a decent haul of materials—and a workshop that looked like a junkyard exploded inside it.
I wiped sweat from my brow and surveyed the mess. “Alright. Now what?”
“Now,” Elmo said, his voice unusually serious, “you make something that doesn’t look like it’s held together with duct tape and bad decisions.”
I ignored the jab and started sorting through the pile, separating the parts into categories: energy components, structural materials, and whatever the hell the crystal matrix counted as.
The system chimed in as I worked, a faint blue glow highlighting the interface.
WORKSHOP UPGRADE AVAILABLE
Install salvaged components?
Y/N
I hesitated. “Wait. The system can upgrade my workshop?”
“Apparently,” Elmo said, sounding as surprised as I was. “Go on, hit yes. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Explosions,” I replied dryly.
“Details, details,” he quipped.
With a deep breath, I tapped Y. The workshop shuddered, the air around me shimmering as the salvaged components began to move on their own, assembling into place like pieces of a puzzle. Sparks flew as the plating fused to the walls, reinforcing the structure. The power core embedded itself into the workbench, wires snaking out to connect with the surrounding tools. The crystal matrix floated into a central position, glowing faintly as it slotted into an improvised energy hub.
When the light show ended, the workshop looked... well, upgraded.
WORKSHOP UPGRADE COMPLETE
Status: Level 1 Enhanced
Features:
Integrated Energy Core
Reinforced Structural Integrity
Advanced Crafting Interface
I whistled, impressed despite myself. “Okay. That’s actually kind of cool.”
Elmo’s voice broke the moment. “I know, right? Now all you need is a motivational poster and a coffee maker, and this place’ll feel just like home.”
Ignoring him, I ran my hands over the new workbench, feeling a faint hum of energy beneath my fingertips. For the first time since this whole nightmare started, I felt a glimmer of hope.
This wasn’t just survival. It was progress.
“Alright,” I said, stepping back and cracking my knuckles. “Let’s see what this baby can do.”
I tapped the glowing console embedded in the workbench, and with a chime, the system’s holographic display flickered to life. A list of salvaged parts rolled into view, complete with 3D renders that hovered in the air like a menu screen from a sci-fi game.
WORKSHOP INVENTORY
Power Core (Damaged): High-density energy source. Might blow up. Or power a city. Or both.
Reinforced Plating (x6): Lightweight, tough, probably stab-proof.
Servo Motors (x8): Fancy actuators. These things could make a tin can bench press a car.
Crystal Matrix (Unknown): Weird. Glowy. Definitely ominous.
Tungsten Alloy Fragments (x12): Hot stuff—literally. Heat-resistant.
Wiring Bundles (x10): Wires. Shocking.
Random Screws and Bolts: Never enough of these when you need them.
I leaned forward, skimming the details on the Power Core. A diagnostic popped up, highlighting all the fried bits and warning me in big, glowing red letters: DO NOT TOUCH UNLESS YOU LIKE EXPLOSIONS.
“Ah, yes,” Elmo said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “The DIY nuke. Nothing could possibly go wrong here.”
“Relax,” I muttered. “I’m not about to blow myself up. Yet.”
“Oh, I’m relaxed,” Elmo said, cheerfully unconvincing. “This is giving me Chernobyl vibes, Blake. Did you skip the episode where things get spicy in the reactor core?”
I scrolled past the Power Core and opened up the specs for the Reinforced Plating. “Okay, this could work for armor. Or reinforcing the workshop walls.”
“Armor?” Elmo quipped. “Great idea, Tony Stark. Build yourself an Iron Man suit, but on a budget. What’s next? A flamethrower that doubles as a leaf blower?”
I glared at nothing in particular. “You know, your constant commentary isn’t helping.”
“Oh, but where’s the fun in that? C’mon, Blake, admit it—you’d miss me if I stopped.”
I grabbed a chunk of tungsten alloy and an old screwdriver, using the workbench’s surface to start sketching out a blueprint. The holographic console converted my scrawl into a clean, 3D model hovering above the table.
PROJECT: MECHANIZED GAUNTLET
Purpose: Punch harder. Also not die.
Components: Servo Motors, Tungsten Alloy, Wiring Bundles, Reinforced Plating.
“Really? A gauntlet?” Elmo asked, his tone pure incredulity. “Oh, sure. Forget swords or shields. Definitely don’t go for a chainsaw arm like Evil Dead. No, Blake Morgan decides to make a fancy glove. What a visionary.”
“It’s a start,” I said, ignoring him.
“A start? Honey, this isn’t a start; this is the Dollar Store version of Infinity War. Let me know when you’re ready to snap some fingers.”
I rolled my eyes and started gathering parts. “Can’t wait for the part where I mute you.”
“You’ll miss me,” Elmo sing-songed. “Now, back to your little Minecraft crafting session.”
Piece by piece, I assembled the gauntlet. Servo motors clicked into place on the skeletal frame. Reinforced plating formed a protective shell over the forearm and back of the hand. The tungsten alloy added weight and durability—enough to make a punch feel like a wrecking ball.
The wiring was a nightmare, though. Sparks flew every time I connected something wrong, and I was pretty sure I burned through half my MP just trying not to fry myself.
“Looking good, champ,” Elmo said, his tone suspiciously complimentary. “Not quite Gundam material, but maybe it’ll hold up against a particularly aggressive toaster.”
“Helpful as always,” I muttered.
“Just remember,” he added, “if it explodes, I’m not cleaning up your mess. Or your face.”
Finally, it was ready. I slid my hand into the gauntlet, feeling the cool metal press against my skin as the servos whirred to life. The system chimed again, and a new window popped up:
MECHANIZED GAUNTLET – PROTOTYPE
Status: Functional
Features:
Enhanced Grip Strength (+200%)
Basic Armored Plating
Energy Reserve (Low)
I flexed my fingers, watching as the servos amplified my movements with a satisfying hum. I tightened my fist, and the metal joints responded perfectly. “Not bad,” I said.
“Not bad?” Elmo snorted. “Blake, this is barely acceptable for a Comic-Con costume. But, hey, at least you won’t break your hand next time you try to punch something out of your league. Which, let’s be honest, is everything.”
My gaze drifted to the crystal matrix sitting on the bench. It pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat, sending tiny ripples of light across the room.
“You know,” Elmo said, his tone unusually serious, “that thing’s probably cursed. Or alien. Or cursed and alien. Definitely nothing good.”
“Yeah, I’m not touching it,” I said, stepping back. “I’m not dumb enough to poke glowing rocks.”
“Sure you’re not,” he said, snickering. “Because nothing screams ‘good decision-making’ like scavenging parts from killer robots.”
My gaze drifted to the crystal matrix sitting on the bench. It pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat, sending tiny ripples of light across the room.
“You know,” Elmo said, his tone unusually serious, “that thing’s probably cursed. Or alien. Or cursed and alien. Definitely nothing good.”
“Yeah, I’m not touching it,” I said, stepping back. “I’m not dumb enough to poke glowing rocks.”
“Sure you’re not,” he said, snickering. “Because nothing screams ‘good decision-making’ like scavenging parts from killer robots.”
Chest Armor – Blueprint
Components:
Reinforced Plating
Tungsten Alloy Fragments (Support Framework)
Servo Motors (Flexibility Assist)
Wiring Bundles (Connection to Gauntlet)
Features:
Damage Resistance: Moderate
Mobility: High
Bonus: Integrated Mount for Additional Tools
"Integrated mount?" Elmo asked, peeking over my shoulder like the nosiest coworker in existence. "What's that for? A mini-fridge? Maybe a cup holder?"
I smirked. "More like modular attachments. Ever heard of versatility?"
"Sure," Elmo replied. "But let’s not kid ourselves, Blake. You’re about two bad choices away from duct-taping a Nerf gun to your chest.”
I grabbed the drill and started fastening the tungsten fragments into place, creating a sturdy framework to hold the plating. Sparks flew, and the smell of heated metal filled the room as I worked. The servos came next, sliding into the framework with a satisfying click. I wired them into the gauntlet’s system for shared power and mobility control.
“Hey,” Elmo piped up, “you know what this reminds me of? That Monty Python scene with the Black Knight. ‘Tis but a scratch!’ Except in your case, every scratch is a potential game over.”
"Elmo, if you keep talking, I’m going to figure out how to mute you."
"You say that, but deep down, you love me. Like Batman loves Robin. Or, you know, like Batman tolerates Robin."
I shook my head, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reply, and returned to the wiring. With a few more adjustments, the chest piece finally came together. I slid it on, the servos whirring as they adjusted to my movements. It wasn’t perfect—there was a slight pinch near the shoulder—but it was leagues better than running around in a T-shirt like some kind of apocalypse amateur.
CHEST ARMOR – PROTOTYPE
Durability: 100/100
Weight: 7kg
Energy Consumption: Low
I moved my shoulders, testing the flexibility. The servo motors hummed in sync, allowing for smooth movement. It felt good—secure but not restrictive.
“Well, look at you, Tin Man,” Elmo said. “All you need now is a heart and maybe a brain.”
“Keep it up,” I said, flexing my fingers. “I’ll build you a mute button next.”
“Oh, Blake, you’d miss my charming wit,” Elmo replied. “But hey, you’re starting to look like you could survive an episode of The Walking Dead. Progress!”
I glanced at the remaining pile of parts—still plenty of reinforced plating and alloy fragments left. "Might as well keep going," I muttered.
"Of course," Elmo said. "Why stop now? The night is young, and so is your total disregard for sleep and self-preservation."
I sketched out another design, this time for shoulder plates and leg guards. The shoulders would need to be tough but flexible, allowing for a full range of motion. The leg guards were all about durability—if something went for my legs again, I wanted it to hit solid metal, not bone.
As I worked, Elmo’s voice piped up again. "You know, this whole cobbling-together-armor thing has Mad Max energy. All you need is a flamethrower guitar guy in the corner."
"Yeah, well, if I find a flamethrower, you’ll be the first to know," I said, focusing on attaching the shoulder plates to the chest harness.
“And I’ll be the first to laugh when you accidentally set yourself on fire," Elmo said cheerfully.
By the time I finished the leg guards, I was exhausted. Every joint ached, and my hands were smeared with grease and soot. But looking at the suit spread out before me, I felt something I hadn’t felt in days: hope.
For the first time, I wasn’t just reacting. I was preparing.
"You know," Elmo said, his voice oddly quiet, "this might actually work. I mean, probably not, but stranger things have happened."
"High praise coming from you," I said, cracking a tired grin.
Elmo chuckled. "Don’t get used to it. Now, what’s next? Helmet? Jetpack? Or maybe a matching cape? Every hero needs one."
"One step at a time, Elmo," I said, pulling off the gauntlet and setting it on the bench. "One step at a time."