Tuesdays were something to look forward to—not because life got any less crazy, but because it was the one part of my week that stayed the same. In a city where buildings could be reduced to rubble before breakfast and heroes clashed with world-ending monstrosities on a regular basis, finding anything dependable felt like a rare treasure. For me, that treasure was Joe’s Deli.

Every week, I’d leave my apartment and make the trek through the chaos of Zenith City. I’d weave between craters, dodge the occasional smoldering car husk, and sidestep whatever mess the latest hero-versus-monster clash had left behind—all for a corned beef sandwich on rye and a piping hot cup of freshly brewed dark roast. It wasn’t just about satisfying hunger; it was a small, grounding ritual that made everything else seem a little less insane.

Maybe that’s why I clung to it. For those few minutes, I could pretend I was just some regular guy grabbing lunch instead of the guy who ended up on the front lines whenever some otherworldly creature decided to ruin my day. Whatever the reason, that sandwich and coffee meant more to me than I liked to admit.

This particular Tuesday wasn’t any different. I left my apartment and took a deep breath, the faint scent of smoke still lingering in the air from last night’s skirmish. The sidewalks were as cracked and uneven as ever—some fissures fresh, some old. Emergency crews buzzed around the latest crater, and half the street was blocked off by bright orange barriers. But none of it mattered. In a few minutes, I’d be holding that hot cup of Joe’s finest brew, savoring the first bite of that perfectly layered sandwich.

Turning the corner, I caught sight of Joe’s Deli—its neon sign still glowing defiantly amidst the wreckage, like a sentinel standing guard. Not today, chaos, it seemed to say. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight. As I pushed open the door, the scent of roasted meats and fresh coffee washed over me, comforting and familiar. For a brief moment, it felt like all the insanity outside disappeared.

“Morning, Joe,” I greeted, already grinning. My gaze drifted to the counter, where a steaming cup of dark roast sat waiting beside a neatly wrapped brown paper bag. I’d like to think Joe didn’t make it ahead of time just for me, but I’d been coming here long enough to know better.

“Peterson,” Joe grumbled, wiping his hands on a grease-stained apron. “Pushin’ your luck, as usual. I’ve told you before, you don’t need to show up in person every single Tuesday. That’s why I set up that whole DoorDash thing.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same if it’s not fresh,” I replied, stepping up to the counter. My fingers brushed against the warm cup, and I breathed in the comforting aroma—dark and smooth, with a hint of caramel that felt like a secret ingredient. It wasn’t life-changing, but for a few precious sips, it could make everything seem… manageable.

Joe narrowed his eyes, jabbing a finger in my direction. “Fresh coffee, huh?” He scoffed. “That’s what you’re worried about? The last time you showed up, half my street was in flames. And the time before that, I had to close early ‘cause of those giant worms that kept eatin’ my regulars!” He shook his head, sighing. “One of ‘em even swallowed Mrs. O’Leary’s chihuahua whole.”

“Hey, I got them out, didn’t I?” I muttered, taking a sip of the coffee. The warmth spread through me, easing some of the tension that had settled in my shoulders. “Eventually.”

“Yeah, eventually,” Joe echoed, still grumbling. “You know how long it took me to get the insurance to cover ‘giant worm infestation’? Took almost as long as it did for Mrs. O’Leary to stop askin’ for an itemized list of what you did to her dog.” He thrust the paper bag toward me. “Here’s your sandwich. Just try not to get me wiped off the map today, will ya?”

“Can’t make any promises,” I replied with a shrug, already peeking inside the bag. The sandwich was perfect, as always—thick slices of corned beef, warm rye bread, and just enough mustard to add a kick. My mouth watered in anticipation. This was going to be good.

With coffee in one hand and my sandwich secured, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. For a few precious moments, I could pretend that things were normal. That I was just a guy enjoying his lunch, not some overpowered anomaly being hunted by interdimensional beings. It wasn’t much, but it was mine.

I left the deli with a little more spring in my step. The chaos outside didn’t bother me—not today. A couple of emergency vehicles zipped past, their sirens wailing, and I could see smoke curling up in the distance. Probably some minor skirmish I’d missed. Nothing unusual.

It was a quiet day, relatively speaking. A few fires still smoldered in the distance, and the faint sound of battle echoed from a few blocks over. Above me, a handful of heroes darted through the sky, chasing after some beast that looked like it had more tentacles than sense. Just another day in downtown Zenith City.

The place was a magnet for trouble, and everyone here was used to the kind of mayhem that would send your average suburban town running for the hills. Buildings got torn down and rebuilt like clockwork, and the roads were patched up so often I sometimes wondered if there was any original pavement left beneath it all. It wasn’t rare to see a street corner get leveled by a rampaging monster in the morning and be back to business by the afternoon, freshly paved and lined with new storefronts.

At the moment, none of that mattered. I had my sandwich in one hand, coffee in the other, and the lingering scent of corned beef and rye still teasing my senses. All I wanted was to get home, kick back, and savor it in peace.

But life in Zenith City rarely goes according to plan.

I hadn’t made it more than a few blocks when the ground shuddered violently beneath my feet, rattling the air with a deep, ominous hum. A pressure—heavy and suffocating—swept through the street like a wave, making it feel like the entire city had paused to hold its breath. Nearby pedestrians froze, their eyes wide as cracks spider-webbed across the pavement. Some bolted for cover, while others—eyes glued to their phones—stood transfixed by the looming shadow creeping over the skyline.

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“ATTENTION! ATTENTION!” A distorted voice crackled through the city’s emergency loudspeakers. “ALL CITIZENS EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY! A CATEGORY OMEGA THREAT HAS BEEN DETECTED IN THE VICINITY. I REPEAT—CATEGORY OMEGA THREAT! ALL PERSONNEL EVACUATE AT ONCE!”

Great. That’s just what I needed.

Sirens blared, and a few brave—or stupid—souls lingered at a distance, hoping to catch the latest spectacle. I glanced down at the sandwich bag in one hand and the coffee cup in the other. This was supposed to be my lunch—a highlight of the week, really. It wasn’t like the rest of the day had been anything worth writing home about.

With a sigh, I set my coffee cup down on a nearby bench, positioning it carefully as if it were made of delicate porcelain. No point in risking the only good thing about today just because some oversized monster decided it was time for a throwdown. My fingers lingered on the cup’s lid for a moment before I pulled back.

“Don’t go anywhere,” I murmured softly, almost as if the coffee could hear me. Not that it mattered—this bench was probably the safest place around here.

I took one last, longing look at my untouched sandwich and gave it a little nod. “You too, buddy. Stay put. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Turning away reluctantly, I faced the direction the ground-shaking vibrations were coming from. The familiar sensation of something big—something very big—approaching resonated through the pavement like a drumbeat.

And there it was.

A hulking shadow crested over the rooftops, tentacles as thick as steel beams writhing in the air. The grotesque monstrosity loomed above the buildings, its eyes—each one the size of a car—burning with malice. Its massive limbs crushed the ground beneath it, shattering concrete and asphalt as if they were nothing more than wet clay.

“THERE YOU ARE, PATHETIC MORTAL!” the creature’s voice boomed, shaking the very air around us. The sheer force of its voice rattled windows, setting off car alarms in a chain reaction of blaring chaos. Its eyes narrowed as it spotted me, and a low, guttural growl reverberated through its twisted frame. “I HAVE COME TO AVENGE MY BROTHER’S DEATH!”

I tilted my head, squinting up at the beast. ‘Really? We’re doing this again?’ I scratched the back of my head. ‘Sorry, buddy, but you guys all start to look the same after a while.’

The creature’s form bristled, its eyes glowing with an otherworldly intensity. “YOU DON’T EVEN REMEMBER, DO YOU?” it roared, voice laced with rage. “YOU KILLED MY BROTHER—VORGOTH, THE BREAKER OF WORLDS! AND NOW YOU MOCK HIS MEMORY?”

Vorgoth…

The name rang a vague bell. I stared at the creature towering above me, my gaze drifting over the thick, writhing tentacles and malevolent eyes. Wait a second… he kinda looks like that guy from…

“Hold on,” I said, squinting at the monster’s grotesque form. “Your brother, did he—uh, by any chance—look a lot like you? Big, ugly, six arms, a face like someone rearranged it with a sledgehammer?”

“YES!” the creature bellowed, its eyes blazing with unbridled fury. “MY BROTHER, THE MIGHTY VORGOTH, BREAKER OF WORLDS—”

“Right, that’s him!” I interrupted, snapping my fingers as the memory came flooding back. “He’s the guy who interrupted my pottery class!”

The beast’s tentacles froze mid-swing. “WHAT…?”

“Yeah,” I continued, ignoring the rising pitch of its voice. “He barged in, knocked over half the pottery wheels, and said my work looked like something a child would throw. Middle of a Thursday evening class—most of the students had just settled in, and I was putting the finishing touches on the handle of my mug. The whole place was a mess. Scared poor Mrs. Applebaum so badly she threw clay all over herself.”

Vorgrash’s body trembled, the ground beneath us cracking under the force of his rage. “YOU DARE TO SPEAK OF MY BROTHER’S DEMISE LIKE IT WAS SOME… DOMESTIC SQUABBLE?”

I shrugged. “Well, he kinda forced my hand. Started flinging those oversized clay spinners at the students—tried to hit little Timmy, too. The kid finally managed to keep his pot upright after weeks of struggling. Wasn’t about to let your brother ruin Timmy’s confidence like that.”

“YOU INSOLENT WRETCH!” Vorgrash bellowed, his roar sending shockwaves through the street. “YOU SHALL PAY FOR YOUR DISRESPECT! I WILL MAKE YOU SUFFER A THOUSAND—”

“Yeah, yeah, big scary threats and all that.” I waved him off dismissively. “Look, if your brother had just stayed to admire the pottery instead of smashing it, maybe he wouldn’t have ended up—well, you know.”

The monstrosity seemed to expand, its many eyes blazing with rage. “YOU SHALL PAY FOR YOUR ARROGANCE, WRETCH! YOU WILL KNOW THE SAME HUMILIATION AND DEATH THAT MY BROTHER SUFFERED!” The creature reared back, its massive form towering over the nearby buildings. “I AM VORGRASH, SCOURGE OF EMPIRES! DEVOURER OF WORLDS! AND YOUR DOOM HAS COME!”

The concrete beneath Vorgrash split apart as his monstrous form coiled tighter, the buildings around us creaking under the pressure. One of his tentacles lashed out, and with a sickening crunch, it wrapped around a nearby structure—the YMCA.

My stomach dropped as I watched the building buckle under the pressure, its walls caving in. Vorgrash’s grip tightened, and with a violent yank, the YMCA crumbled into a pile of rubble and twisted steel.

“Hey, wait a sec!” I shouted, my voice rising in disbelief. “That’s my YMCA!” Chunks of debris rained down onto the street below as the structure collapsed inward. There went my favorite spot to clear my head after long days, the place where I’d walk the track and, yeah, watch the old-timers’ hilarious attempts at playing pickleball from above. Now it was gone. Just like that.

I clenched my fists, a sudden pang of irritation bubbling up. I’d have to go halfway across town now, and the other location? Barely enough space for a proper pickleball game. Great. Just what I needed—another inconvenience on top of an already messed-up day.

Vorgrash’s eyes gleamed with sadistic satisfaction, his many limbs twisting around the shattered remains of what used to be my go-to spot. “THESE BUILDINGS, THESE PLACES YOU CHERISH, THEY ARE NOTHING BEFORE ME. JUST AS MY BROTHER WAS NOTHING TO YOU, SO TOO SHALL I REDUCE YOUR PRECIOUS CITY TO DUST!”

I glared up at him, gritting my teeth. “I just wanted to pick up my sandwich and go home. But nooo, you had to show up and wreck my Tuesday. And now my YMCA? Really?”

Vorgrash’s maw twisted into what I assumed was a grin. “ALL OF IT WILL BURN. JUST LIKE YOU BURNED MY BROTHER. ONLY THIS TIME, I SHALL MAKE YOU WATCH AS EVERYTHING YOU HOLD DEAR IS REDUCED TO ASHES.”