On the Skybotron, Commissioner Krivlax pressed a red button on his throne armrest. A thumping alien soundtrack began to play. President Warfield trembled and shook—suddenly enveloped by a crackling blue energy. His lips quivered. The veins in his neck jutted out as he mustered every bit of strength to try and spit out a word. All that eked out were guttural grunts and drool. His facial skin tightened, pulling so taut across his skull that it cracked and split. Blood trickled from the newly torn seams. A moment later, he vaporized in a flash of white hot ash.
Outside the dropship, people gasped and screamed. The same blue energy wave rippled across the horizon, sweeping right at them. The crowd scattered, shoving and trampling over one another.
The Skybotron flooded with a massive collage of what looked like thousands of political leaders from around the globe. All of them seemed caught by surprise—unsuspecting to suddenly be featured on the broadcast. Each of them were ravaged by the blue energy—wriggling and convulsing. One by one, they exploded to the pulsing beat. Each of them burst into perfectly-timed clouds of ash as if it were the well-choreographed finale of a fireworks show.
I watched as the blue wave tossed jets and helicopters from the sky, sending them crashing into the fleeing crowd below. They exploded on impact, setting off a blazing inferno. Tanks and police cruisers liquefied into heaping blobs of molten metal, unable to mask the screams of those who perished inside.
Sola covered her mouth, crying, “Oh my God!”
Soldiers and police officers aimed at the warriors and fired. But, nothing happened. All of them looked down at their weapons, confused, as if they had already been disabled. The blue energy wave sliced through them, causing each to burst and atomize, like a chain of firecrackers.
The Skybotron showcased the same carnage unfolding simultaneously across the globe. Tokyo. London. Paris. Dubai. Singapore. Each shot documented the horror. Mass hysteria. Crowds scattering. All of them, instantly erased from existence by the blue energy.
“This is happening everywhere,” Sola gasped. “My family!”
Outside, the warriors were unaffected by the energy wave. They looked on, bored, as if this was old hat to them. An essential preparation for the game—like setting the table for dinner.
Some of the crowd fled towards us and the other dropships—all of them were instantly vaporized as the blue wave swept ahead. I pulled Sola close, nudging her chin to look at me instead of the blue wave that was fast approaching.
“Hey. Look at me. Look at me.”
She did—tears in her eyes.
“My mother… I just left and never said goodbye.” She wept. “…never said sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I nodded, “She knows.”
The blue wave was almost upon us. This was it. Sola leaned in and kissed me hard and full on the lips. Stunned, I pulled her tight as we shut our eyes and braced for the end.
SCHWOOM!
There was silence and darkness. If this was death, it wasn’t so bad. But, this was something else. I could still hear, smell, and feel. I peeked an eye open. Sola and I were crouched inside a golden sphere of energy. The translucent bubble rocked, pulsed, and weakened as the blue wave rippled past, leaving us unharmed.
The blue wave gone, the golden sphere dissipated and an info-box hovered mid-air.
Blitz Max Protect Shield Depleted - 0/1
Sola and I loosened our embrace. She trembled. I rubbed her shoulders, reassuring, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Look, we’re still here. We made it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I picked up a golden shield… from the trunk that killed Todd. It must have protected us.”
She nodded tearfully as she drew away, wiping her face. We both peered out of the rear hatch of the dropship. The airfields were ash-covered and strewn with the debris of the recently departed. The whole scene looked like a history book portrait of post-war decimation.
The warriors coughed and kicked up ashes. Some brushed white flakes from their armor and weapons—shaking off their boots. Across the field, Dom spit, batting at the air and grumbling. He seemed to be bitching about the inconvenience of inhaling the ashes of our dead.
Gorekrushki bent down, scooped a bit of ash onto his blade and sniffed it like a line of coke. Invigorated, he shouted, pounding his chest like a gorilla, before licking the blade clean.
On the Skybotron, Blink and Gil seemed just as cheery as ever.
“Well, with that messy bit of business behind us, it’s almost time for the Orb Drop and the start of Slayer Bowl 342!”
Sola clutched her arms and shook her head, wrestling with anguish, “Everyone is dead… my family… everyone.”
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All I could manage was a head nod as I burned with rage.
“Those monsters did this!” she fumed, pointing at the warriors. “They killed everyone and we need to make them pay!”
“Every last one,” I agreed, as I discovered a pulse rifle in a nearby crate.
The Skybotron flashed shots of warrior drop sites across the globe—all of them coated with ash. Warriors flexed their fists, jumping up and down, stretching, getting into ready stances. Others checked their weapons, blades, and blasters.
“Can’t you just feel the anticipation building?” Gil chirped.
“Just moments away,” Blink nodded.
I stared at Dom as he seemed to speak with his gauntlet. A holographic inventory splayed out in front of him. He plucked an object that looked like a switchblade and it materialized mid-air. The device quickly transformed in his hand, sprouting laser tines from its handle. Dom proceeded to comb his hair with it, patting his doo until he looked just like the promotional graphics flashing on the Skybotron.
Jess Smelter used the tip of a blade to cut a nick on her forearm next to a series of previously-healed cuts. She folded down her battle-suit sleeve to cover it up.
Sola and I took up cover positions near the rear of the cargo bay. We crouched behind a stack of crates. Rucksack on, I lifted the rifle and found that it was much heavier than I anticipated. I set it on top of a crate for support and peered down its scope. Sola moved in close, taking on the role of a spotter. As I lined up a shot on Dom, she stared at the Slaytriots and scowled, “They’re not so impressive.”
“They’re just so darn impressive!” Blink chirped from the Skybotron. “You can’t help but root for these guys.”
I had Dom dead-to-rights in my scope. His coiffed head sat perfectly centered in my crosshairs. Sola leaned over my shoulder, and whispered, “You’ve got him.”
My index finger tensed on the trigger. A bead of sweat trickled down my forehead.
“Take the shot!” Sola implored.
I pulled at the trigger, slowly, finger trembling.
“Hurry up! You’re gonna lose him!”
I fired.
PACHEWWWW!
The muzzle spat fire. The recoil punched my shoulder like a mule kick. That was gonna leave a bruise. A laser blast sizzled through the air, screaming straight at Blady. The blast struck an invisible force field, crackling, its energy dispersing, tracing along the circular, protective barrier encasing Dom’s body.
The Slaytriots wheeled around, scanning the terrain for the shot’s origin. Rod and Jess took off running. Their bio-enhanced movements were so fast, they were mere blurs to the naked eye. Before we could react, gloved fists were raining down on us.
Moments later, we were on the ground, surrounded by warriors of every shape and class: tall, short, muscular, squat, solid, liquid, gaseous. All of them furious, peering down at us with murderous intent. Most had weapons drawn, as if they were waiting for permission to kill. I sat upright, lifting Sola so that we were shoulder-to-shoulder. Dom parted the crowd of warriors, waving a hand for everyone to back off. He crouched down, leaning close to us. He smirked, as if he was half amused and half impressed with the audacity of our effort.
“You know… most fans usually just ask for an autograph.”
The crowd of warriors laughed.
“Who are you?” he asked.
I wiped blood from my lips.
“Sam.”
“Well, hello Sam of Earth.” Dom gazed over at Sola, his eyes leering at her curvy form, “And who is your lovely friend?”
“Sola,” she said, spitting blood onto his boot.
“Well, at least you’re open to exchanging bodily fluids.”
“Go to hell!” she hissed.
He raised his foot, watching the crimson trickle off in a gooey string.
“Feisty—this one. I like her.” Dom pointed at Sola, riling up the warriors.
“You won’t like it when we kill you, asshole!” Sola snapped.
He turned back to her, “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”
“I can’t kiss her. You killed her.”
“Occupational hazard, sweetheart.”
“You won’t get away with this,” I warned.
“Yeah, and who’s gonna stop us? You? First rule of negotiation… you don’t start while you’re bleeding on the ground. I mean, what was your plan? You were just gonna snipe me and then what?”
I stared at him, full of hatred, “Cut off the head of the snake…”
“Huh.” Dom nodded with appreciation. “Sounds like something I would do.”
“Kill ‘em! Kill ‘em both!” the warriors howled and hissed, raising fists and claws, kicking up dust, and pounding the ground with staffs and rifle butts.
“Now, now, let’s not be so hasty.” Dom gestured for calm. “After all, we are their guests.”
Dom reached down and lifted Sola’s chin with his finger. She bucked her head in protest, “Don’t touch me!”
“Ah. Just like an untamed mare,” he grinned. “Yeah, you and I will have lots of fun after the match.”
Before she could respond, Dom slapped a small disc onto her chest. He tapped it, causing it to glow. Sola instantly dematerialized.
“NOOOOO!!!”I shouted. “WHAT DID YOU DO?!” I reached over, desperately feeling around the empty space that Sola had occupied.
“Relax, kid. She’s gone. DNF’d.”
“What?!”
“She’ll wake up safe and warm on my ship, where I can properly… comfort her after the game.”
Dom rubbed his chin, “I mean, let’s be honest with one another, Sam. What were you gonna do with her, huh? You’re not ready for a piece of ass like that. Better to leave that sort of thing to a real man.”
“You monster!” I lunged at him. Rod decked me, sending me face-first to the dirt, then proceeded to kick me repeatedly in the stomach with metal-tipped boots.
I clutched my gut, coughing up blood.
“I’ll give it to you, kid,” Dom laughed, “ya got balls.”
Dom tugged at my pink shirt, reading the text…
“BADASS GILF? Hmmm… Well, maybe not balls.”
He grabbed my rucksack and dumped it out. Rod and Jess flicked through the contents—ignoring my papers and keys, taking the radio and my water bottle. Rod attempted to remove my gauntlet. It wouldn’t budge. He slapped his face, grunting in frustration. Dom looked at the gauntlet’s glitchy screen and gestured, “Leave it. It’s broken anyway.”
Dom lifted Count Basil from the ground. He studied the potted plant with amusement.
“Green thumb, huh? Should’ve brought some healing herbs or at least something we could smoke.”
He tossed the plant aside and noticed my leather holster belt. He reached down and pulled out one of the pizza cutters.
“Cute,” he grinned, dangling it like a kid’s toy.
He dropped it to the ground.
“Let her go…” I mumbled, writhing in pain. “Take me instead.”
“Yeah. Hate to break it to you, kid, but you’re not my type.”
“W-why here?” I gasped for air.
“What’s that, now?” Dom cupped a hand to his ear.
“Why… did you come here?” I spat out.
“Oh, that’s simple, really. Because we could.”
He leaned even closer, lips close enough to whisper in my ear.
“You wanna know what’s worse than extinction? Being the last one left to swim in its ruins.”
“You son of a—“
Dom rocked my jaw with a steel-reinforced elbow. I slumped over.
As I drifted into darkness, I could hear Jess admonishing Dom, “You wasted DNF on girl.”
“Calm down,” he laughed. “It’s not like I’ll need it.”