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Simulation Apocalypse
Zombie Granny Gets Crushed By Her Walker! Find out How?

Zombie Granny Gets Crushed By Her Walker! Find out How?

Fury Meter: 78%

This isn’t full rage. But I can tell something is about to take over.

Lizard-girl’s head is split open, and her mother and father are eating her brains like anime characters eating ramen. Except they used bowls, not their spawn’s skull.

Fury Meter: 81%

I’m closing in on the abusive parents. So close.

Jake appears further ahead and to my left. He gets a shot off, but it’s a regular arrow, and it merely grazes the mother’s arm. She doesn’t even notice and her health bar drops maybe 10%, if that.

Unsure if Mando’s flying speed is faster than my run, but I know I can throw faster than I can sprint, so I focus on my Display, specifically the new-ish icon under my Bars -- a circle displaying a live stream of Mando flying through the storm clouds inside his Pet Ball.

HP: 100/100

ST: 94/100

Fury: 49%

Pet Ball

Cleave

Block

I select the icon, and a blue light glows in my left-hand. The system can intuit I’m left-handed?! The light swirls like some ball of magic energy between my fingers. It’s a tickling sensation.

My sprint gets me caught up with Jake.

He has stopped to fire from a safe distance. Arrow after arrow soars through the wintry darkness. Spectral wisps of luminescent green spiral around at least one arrowhead.

The energy in my hand solidifies into a snowglobe-like ball.

Green arrow strikes the feasting mother in her thigh. Wisps spread across her leg like constricting vines, dealing damage and causing an icon to pop up over her head. It’s too obscured by the snowfall to decipher.

Jake shouts another trick, “Grasping Roots!” and suddenly, on the neighbors’ lawn, thin roots with very handsy branches sprout up and grab the zombie father’s ankles. Another obscured icon.

Running past him, grumbling, “Of course you have a magic-like ability.”

Fury Meter: 86%

I rear back to throw Mando’s pocket dimension at the aberrations, but an alto-pitched cry stops me in my tracks, and I skid, spin on a heel, nearly drop the dimension entirely, and look.

It’s Tabi. Standing guard in front of where Bill is licking Craig’s wounds, she’s crying out for help, kind of. “Hey! Hey, depressed barbarian dude, I mean umm…” pause. “Oh, Logan!”

There’s a family of hungry zombies planning a get together. My neighbors are the entree. Buffet style.

Startled, I trip on some ice and lose my grip on the pet dimension. The globe goes flying and lands only a few feet in front of me.

Staggering to my feet, I glance in the direction of my allies’ predicament: The aforementioned zombie family consists of a grandma with a walker, one teenager wearing a letterman jacket, two parents, and a rabid looking zombie pug.

Pale blue mist flashes brilliantly on my left. Mando enters simulated reality. One of the less broody, ragey parts of my brain is probably performing fist pumps. I chose correctly. Mando is fucking rad and adorable and…

Fury Meter: 67%

Love for my new pet Companion lowers fury? Interesting. Maybe inconvenient?

I hope he can get overpowered. Wait. What if because he was moderately selective that means he has lower base stats?

Cue spiral.

Why was I so careless when choosing?!

It’s not really my fault, right? No reddit. No bulbapedia. No walkthrough. Not even a Dex so I could’ve obsessively researched first. Fuck. Whatever. Should I really min/max the apocalypse? Is being the strongest my purpose or is that just some Shonen bullshit washing out my individual destiny? What’s the meaning of anything? Life was pointless before the world ended anyway. Does the apocalypse really change anything or should I just let myself be devoured?

Still running.

Mando is swimming ahead, like air’s no different from the depths of the sea. He looks like a baby bat ray-adorable. His side fins wave in the winter night like wings. I wonder prefixes and suffixes; think of Rayke as a Ray and Drake, and hope Mando will be some mix of (Pokémon’s) Dragonite and Mantine.

Also, Mando’s grace is impressive. Humans crawl, then wattle, then controlled fall, before learning to move forward. Mando moves through the air like he was born with the kinesthetic knowledge. I’m a proud companion dad right now. Almost makes me feel like maybe I might be worth something-by association. Being a parent suddenly makes way more sense.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

It’s amazing how many thoughts will assault my brain in seconds of time.

I reach Jake. Still ruminating. But I have practice repressing my ruminations. Especially when shit’s life or die. Still wanna really rage on lizardgirl’s zombie parents, but Craig and Tabi still live so…priorities.

I turn to Jake. Around him, there’s an emanating glow; it looks almost like kintsugi art in a forest; gleaming gold veins woven through the luminescent leaves you’d find deep in some pacific northwest forest come early spring. But ten times brighter.

“You got this?” I ask.

He has a child-like smile on his face. “Inspiration Meter 100%.”

“Not much of an answer.”

“Patience.” His bow goes pitch black, starts growing. “Library, play Resonance by T.M. Revolution.”

As curious as I am to why he’s suddenly decided to play the Soul Eater theme song, I’ve got no time to wait for whatever the hell it is he’s lucky enough to be doing.

“I just need a yes or no.”

“Fine. Yes.”

Thumbs up.

I spin on my heels, and sprint back toward my house. By my side, Mando swims the snow-speckled skies.

“Echoes Charging, 98%!” Jake’s voice over my shoulder.

I’ve gotta get to the zombies before they reach Tabi and Craig, but I know I don’t have the time.

I make my first attempt at communicating with my new Companion. “Go kill the mother fuckers. I’ll be right behind him.” I pause. “Please.”

Mando responds oddly. Projects a side by side display of two GIFs: (1) titled Nibble: shows him nibbling at the zombie family, and (2) Gust: him flapping small gusts of wind into the same zombies’ faces.

I don’t want him getting close so command Mando to use Gust. He chirps agreement, and flies.

There’s a loud warbling behind me.

Jake’s voice now booms. “Rapid Shot, Echoes’ Volley!”

My feet skid to a stop as some incorporeal force fish-hooks my face, jerks my head around, spins my body to follow, and basically fucking forces me to get distracted by the sudden light that’s exploded around Jake’s bow. Not just his bow though; that glows a brilliant green and gold. The nocked arrow’s head looks like a fucking lazer show. Except the lasers are a forest themed color palette of rainbow beams.

Jake releases, leaving countless glowing after-images behind even as he conjures another arrow. The after-image arrows speedily release, gatling gun style. He fires the second arrow.

Zombie parents are screaming, and their bodies look like emerald fireflies are eating them from the inside out. I should be in awe of the rainbow river of arrows (and echo-arrows) flooding the sky, but I’m just irritated. There’s an explosion of guts and undead-ish flesh.

I look at my Big Sword. No rainbow beams or after-images. Just a big dumb sword…fucking awesome.

At least I have Mando, I guess.

My body’s apparently allowed to be moved by me again, and I spin around to sprint and help my allies and Companion. Rushing as fast as my heavy Big Sword allows, I’m scanning the situation with each step. It’s not good.

Directly ahead, Mando’s in the middle of the street, flapping his wings to create weak gusts of wind, and force back the zombie family grandma, mom, dad, son, and pug). The pug’s whipped backward, wheezing its entire flight.

Rest of the reunion remains threatening though. Mom and dad The biggest threat to Mando is grandma. Her walker has solid reach.

Divert attention. See the front of my house.

There are four zombies that’ve come out of fucking nowhere. They’re trying to devour Tabi, who’s simultaneously fighting them and shouting at Craig not to get up because he’ll only make his injury worse. He shouts a protest back, but cuts his sentence short when the tiny bad ass jumps and scissor chops one of the zombie’s heads off.

She’s got things under control. “I’m coming, Mando!”

I’m closing in on Mando, skimming over my two At-Will Skills, Block and Cleave.

Block: A super complicated skill, this move may cause stun, but at your level it's really not likely.

Damage: N/A

Range: TBD

Cleave: A wide sweeping damage-dealing attack. Creates a wave of sharp energy that extends from your Big Sword.

Damage: Damage dealt correlates to proximity.

Range: 3-11 feet

Obvious choice. Only twenty-ish feet away from my Companion now.

I pass my next door neighbor’s house, and something catches the corner of my eye. Alert, I avert my gaze for just long enough to see that same neighbor sleepily poke her head out of her front door. She looks like herself, but with some minor changes—bovine ears and some fur. Her eyes go wide, and makes a ‘nope, fuck this’ face before promptly slamming the door shut. Aren’t side characters supposed to hide during climactic battles?

Fifteen-ish feet within range of the clustered-together zombie family.

Readying Cleave, holding my Big Sword horizontal and to the side—channeling my inner Guts. I charge in, hovering my focus on the Cleave icon, waiting for that perfect moment to strike.

I discover the pros and cons of At-Will Skills. Pro: they apparently require zero concentration or components like a spell would. Con (is big): the system automatically picks up on my desire to Cleave and before I’m ready to perform the movement, my body does it all on its own; my movement accelerates, body rotates back, I’m charging up for the big attack; sharp-looking energy field erupts from my big Sword, and if its appearance is any indicator, it’s gotta increase my range.

Picking up speed. Ten feet from crashing into the zombie family. Unexpectedly, my left foot plants and I’m swinging my Big Sword in a wide arc, like I’m fencing in the special olympics.

I’m moving too fast to see anything more than…

…my sword cutting granny’s upheld arms off, dad’s face as I slice a slab of his shoulder away, my sword’s energy field reaching out and gashing open zombie-mom’s blouse (fake DD’s cut down to cup C), then finishes its arc, grazing junior’s hip, which sprays a blood hydrant.

Abruptness of the skill’s ending nearly topples me. Now I know how video game avatars feel—nauseous.

A glint of silver slightly above the family catches my eye. Granny’s walker and her decapitated hands it seems.

The zombies look up, apparently noticing it too.

Front bar of granny’s walker destroys her porous, sore-ridden zombie face, and takes her to the fucking ground. Dear ol’ granny is crushed like witch of the wicked west. Blood boils and bubbles from her mashed potato. Her very decapitated hands maintain their firm grip on the walker’s handles. But her HP drains to zero nonetheless—one down.

Granny’s family is groaning about their loss, an estate sale, and my brains.

Zombie dad’s got half health, zombie mom’s got about two-thirds health (and more exposed half-tits than that), and teenage fuckquat’s got probably three-quarters.

Maybe it’s the combination of substances, but watching inferior foes makes me think of high school.

See, some guys played football. Some guys played soccer. Not me. While others played with their balls, I played with wooden swords, durable branches, PvC pipe, and butcher knives. LARPing, without the magic, because nothing’s more depressing than imagining you’ve got magic when all you’re really doing is calculating damage to go with nasally vocalized “Fireball!”

Maybe it was anemoia, some nostalgia for a time I once thought I’d never get to experience. Maybe it was an innate hatred for myself projected onto modern-day living and turned into seeking physical pain. Or maybe it was just the simulacram’s pre-programmed Aries manifesting in my hobbies and abilities. Who knows. No matter the cause, now that I’m faced with real-simulation medieval combat, I am zoned into the max.

I’ve waited my entire life for this moment.