POV : WASTELAND

  Atlas and the trolls were heading back to Fort Bone when they saw red flares . They immediately picked up their pace. Thankfully, all three of them were in great shape—Atlas with his gene boosters, and the trolls, well, they were trolls—bursting forward from a casual walk into a fast jog. However, it was about two hours away from the flares, and there was no way he could sprint all the way there, even with his superhuman genetics.

  The jogging speed in itself was designed to get to the flares, and still leave him ready to fight. There would be no point getting to what could be a life threatening battle exhausted.

  When he finally arrived, what he saw made him pause. The Skeleton General, mounted on the mutated steed, lance in hand, was smashing into the gates of Bonetown. Soldiers were dropping rocks, pouring flaming oil, and shooting crossbows down at the beast. Crafters were hurling their KrazyBondoglue javelins at the undead steed. The javelins had struck several times, and the steed was looking less and less agile, its movements slowing. But still, when it got too burdened down by the KrazyBondoglue javelins, the General would slash through them with his sword before sheathing it again, resuming his relentless strikes against the gate with his lance.

  Skeletons were rushing the wall as well, splitting the army’s focus. Armored skeletons with shields were doing their best to protect the General. The screams of wounded men echoed throughout the area.

  “Fuck, you’re definitely asking for it,” Atlas growled, his blood boiling.

  “That's home! You're dead... or I guess deader!” Portilla screamed, charging forward with fury.

  Crushir just bellowed, “Smash!” with wild enthusiasm.

  There were roughly 300 skeletons in that horde, and Atlas definitely wasn't going to give them a chance to escape.

  ‘‘‘

  Atlas and trolls barrelled into the back of the skeletal army. Skeletons flew everywhere as his swords did their work. He was a surgeon removing the cancer that was the horde. His twin swords were the scalpels, and his goal was to make the wasteland tumor free.

  Portilla and Crushir led the charge in front of him, their large bodies tanking hits with ease. Nothing got through them, but the sheer number of skeletons—both regular and bestial—slowed him down from reaching the General. Getting through a horde of 300 skeletons, even with many attacking the walls, wasn't easy. Atlas kept powering through, though.

  CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

  “Keep those skeletons away from me!” he yelled to the walls.

  Isabella heard him and quickly directed more of the crossbowmen to fire at any of the regular skeletons blocking his path.

  THWIP! THWIP! THWIP!

  The skeleton soldiers started going down, creating a small pocket of space for Atlas and the trolls to move through. Taking this opportunity, the three of them bulled through to where the Skeleton General was.

  The General, rearing back for another charge at the wall with his lance, didn’t notice, until Atlas took one of his swords and cut through the back leg of the mutant steed. The steed, reacting to the blow, lifted its head in silent pain and collapsed to its knees. The General, unable to stop the momentum, flew right off, his lance soaring into the distance and smashing into a couple of unfortunate skeletons. He turned around in apparent anger, unsheathing his great sword and swung it at Atlas. Atlas couldn’t dodge in time and took the blow. His armor held up, but unfortunately, physics made its ugly head known. The momentum, combined with the Skeleton General’s sheer size and power, sent Atlas flying ten feet.

  BOOM!

  He hit the ground hard. A small crater formed in the ground, as dust flew up from around. Atlas tried to catch his breath as quickly as he could and get back up. But it was hard. He definitely was struggling to get up. Portilla and Crushir immediately stood protectively, fighting the General back. The General kept hacking into them, though. His sword tearing into them caused serious wounds.

  Blood spurted from their wounds. It was regenerating, but not fast enough. The sheer damage the skeletal general was doing was off the charts.

  “Argh!” yelled Crushir, wincing in pain.

  “Die! Die! You hurt my daddy!” Portilla shouted furiously.

  The Skeleton General kept pressing his attack. His next sword swing sliced directly into Portilla’s club, cleaving it in half. Portilla ducked just as the club remnant flew away. With her other club, she smashed the Skeleton General's hand, causing him to momentarily lose his grip on his sword. Crushir, seizing the chance, brought both his clubs down on the General’s hands again. The Skeleton General lost control of his great sword. It dropped to the ground, with a heavy CLUNK.

  Seeing the opportunity, both trolls dropped their clubs and jumped on the Skeleton General. The General was large—roughly ten, maybe twelve feet tall—but adult trolls weren’t small either, standing eight feet tall each. Between the two of them, a massive dog pile of monsters formed in the middle of the wasteland.

  “Oh my god, I can’t believe what’s happening,” one of the soldiers on the walls whispered, eyes wide with shock. Isabella looked down in concern.

  “Get up, Atlas!” she yelled. Having caught his breath, Atlas leaped into the dog pile with both swords pointing down. His blades sliced through the General's armor. ‘It doesn’t matter how good your armor is; there’s always joints,‘ Atlas thought. His swords cut off one of the Skeleton General’s arms.

  The General struggled furiously to get up, but with only one arm and being pinned down by hundreds of pounds of troll, it was a losing battle.

  Atlas kept slicing until he found another gap where the Skeleton General’s gorget didn’t protect his neck. With a swift stroke, the head flew right off. Seeing that the General had finally stopped moving, the three of them cheered.

  “Fuck yeah!” yelled Atlas.

  Portilla and Crushir echoed, “Fuck yeah!”

  Atlas thought, ‘Oh my, I really shouldn’t teach them to swear.‘

  The Skeleton General had been a terrifying force of nature, his mana-powered strength and relentless ferocity had earned him a trail of smoldering ruins and panicked villagers all the way to Fort Bone. He commanded his horde with an iron—well, bony—fist, a skeletal juggernaut of destruction.

  And now? Now he was a sad, clattering heap buried under what could only be described as a mountain of troll meat.

  “Meat mountain wins again!” Crushir announced triumphantly, thumping his chest so hard that a nearby tree trembled.

  One skeletal arm wiggled free of the troll pile and flailed weakly, as if even in death (again), the Skeleton General refused to admit defeat. Unfortunately, this only drew Crushir’s attention.

  “General want round two?” Crushir cocked his head, scooping up a boulder-sized chunk of troll meat from his own belly. “Crushir smash again!”

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  The arm immediately stopped moving.

  With the Skeleton General down, the rest of the skeletons—both armored and unarmored—began losing their cohesion. They continued attacking but without the precision or force they had before. Chunks of the horde started wandering off. Isabella, sensing an opening, ordered her army to leave the gate. Two hundred men rushed into the remnants of the skeleton horde, determined to finish them off before they could spread out completely.

  THWIP!

  THWIP!

  CRACK!

  The army took quick vengeance on the now leaderless horde remnants. Atlas backed by the trolls was a tsunami of violence. Skeletons were smashed into bits.

  CRACK

  CRACK

  CRACK

  Soon after the fight was won. Atlas and the Portal Crushers had defeated the skeleton horde.

  “Loot the bodies, and grab the coins!” Isabella shouted in triumph.

  The army cheered in victory at the declaration. Blood had been spilled, wounds were plentiful but at the end of the day, they were all united and the victory was precious.

  …and the piles of mana coins twinkling around the battlefield definitely helped increase the festive mood of everyone involved.

  ‘‘‘

  POV : ALIEN SHOWRUNNER OFFICE

  In the showrunner’s office, Cobraxis, a tall green Naga with a human upper torso and a snake-like lower body, waited patiently to speak with Nerdathor. This was his fourth time attempting to get his product into the show. Desperation gnawed at him as he watched his competitors soar ahead, thanks to the massive promotions they had been doing. But Nerdathor had kept turning him down.

  Watching a live stream of Atlas taking down the Skeleton General, Cobraxis thought, ‘This is the opportunity I need.‘

  Finally, after fifteen long minutes, Nerdathor called him in.

  "Buddy, what can I do for you?" Nerdathor said, his tone casual but guarded. Despite the repeated rejections, Cobraxis had always managed to stay on his good side, constantly bringing small gifts—like the one he was holding now, a limited-edition scooter that hadn’t even hit the market yet.

  Cobraxis offered the gift with a flicker of hope in his eyes. “I’d like to get my products on the show.”

  Nerdathor sighed. “You know we can't do that. We’ve banned any form of transportation, and that’s exactly what you sell. I can't have people speeding around on motorised vehicles. It just doesn’t fit. It speeds up the action too much. We want them relying on the teleport points.”

  Cobraxis remained calm, despite his frustration. “I understand your concerns, but hear me out. We’ve developed something different this time. Something I think would be perfect.”

  With a swipe of his hand, Cobraxis pulled up a holographic screen displaying his new product: ‘‘Speedy Serpent Vending Machine‘‘. Below it, a description read: ‘Transport (10 coins). Hi Ho Silver Away! Use the remains of any creature to create your own mounts. Results may vary.‘

  Nerdathor’s interest piqued, but he frowned. “Mounts? That's still transportation. We banned it for a reason.”

  “True,” Cobraxis said quickly, “but these mounts are different. They’re not motorised, so they won’t disrupt the pacing of the show. The teleport points will still be key, but mounts will give characters more flexibility. Think of the drama—if the mounts change depending on what creature remains are used.”

  Nerdathor’s eyes lit up as he considered the potential. ‘Mounts wouldn’t be a bad idea… With Atlas and the Portal Crushers controlling an entire continent, they need a way to travel faster without bypassing the fun of the journey.‘ He smirked. ‘And if the mounts backfire or explode? That's ratings gold.‘

  “This could work, it’s fresh and fun,” said Nerdathor. He didn’t mention the fact that he hoped Cobraxis’ product might explode and cause even more drama, that’d be too insulting.

  Cobraxis leaned in, sensing victory. “Exactly. It keeps the action fresh without breaking the balance. I’ve prepared quite a bit for this, and of course the Red Fairy show’s endorsement would really help. That’s why there’s also a small consultation fee here for you. I’ve really appreciated your guidance”

  Nerdathor nodded slowly, looking at the stack of mana coins that would be his “consultation fee”, was finally convinced. “Alright, you’ve got a deal. We’ll test it out. But if it doesn’t work, the machines are gone, regardless of the consultation fee.”

  Cobraxis grinned, his tail twitching in excitement. “Of course,of course. You won’t regret this.”

  ---

  POV : BONETOWN

  The sun blazed relentlessly over the wasteland, casting long shadows as Atlas sat in the Fort Bone War Room, the air thick with satisfaction. His leadership team sat around him, each savoring the taste of victory over their coffee.

  "I can't believe we've finally gotten rid of the Skeleton Horde," Atlas said, his voice filled with relief.

  "Yep," Alexander added with a grin, "We’re still hunting down stragglers, but the Empire is a lot safer now."

  John nodded, "With the economic war under wraps, we’re firmly on our way to number one again."

  Their smiles widened, the weight of their hard-earned victories easing for the moment. The peace didn’t last long, though. A familiar shimmer appeared in the wasteland sky, snapping them out of their reverie.

  "Hello, bitches!" The Red Fairy’s high-pitched voice rang out, her sweet tone laced with her usual mischief. Her glowing figure hovered above them, casting a surreal light in the war room. "I hope you've had a fun month. You know what time it is."

  Atlas clenched his jaw slightly, keeping his expression neutral. ‘What’s she going to do now?‘ he wondered.

  The Red Fairy twirled in the air, her bright red dress flashing as she announced, "Dun dun dun, time for the Red Fairy show! Let's see, who's the wasteland leader right now? Oh my, it's still Atlas and the Portal Crushers of his Fort Bone Empire." Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

  Atlas gave a tight smile.

  "Well, Atlas," she continued, "you guys have done such a great job, and that means you get a reward. Citizens of the Fort Bone Empire here’s your prize!" she declared, her voice booming louder.

  Across the Empire, everything ground to a halt. Crafters paused their work, soldiers stopped their patrols, and even the drunkards brawling outside the taverns stopped to look skyward.

  The Red Fairy raised her hands and snapped her fingers. T-shirts began raining down on every citizen. They landed on people’s heads, THUMP, covering faces and shoulders with brightly printed slogans. Each shirt read: ‘"I got sucked into the Wasteland, and all I got was this lousy T-shirt."‘

  Or at least that was what the T-shirt was supposed to say, but it was badly misspelt like a bootleg knockoff you’d buy in a Hong Kong street stall for three bucks.

  The Fairy’s laughter echoed across the Empire. "Enjoy your new garments!" she called out with sarcastic cheer.

  Atlas raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, that’s not too bad,‘ he thought, holding up his own shirt. ‘At least everyone gets a free T-shirt.‘

  But the Fairy wasn’t finished. Her grin widened, and the mischievous glint in her eyes sharpened. "But what’s the point of having an award for first place if there’s no award for last?" She tilted her head, panning the scene to other settlements in the wasteland. Panic filled the air as people in rival settlements looked to the sky in dread.

  The atmosphere shifted as the camera panned out, capturing the dread creeping into the faces of citizens from other settlements. They looked up in horror, knowing full well they were in the running for last place on the mysterious leaderboard. No prosperous towns like the Celestial Empire or America United for them—just the sickening reality of their own daily struggles.

  The Red Fairy smirked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "It’s kind of boring to punish you losers. Let’s make it a little bit more fun!" She split her camera into two new views. One focused on Jed Lawson, slouched in his chair, whiskey glass halfway to his lips. The other zoomed in on the Celestial Emperor, lounging on his ornate throne, looking smug.

  “I gave you a whole month, and you didn’t overtake the Fort Bone Empire,” she declared, feigning disappointment. “I think that makes you THE losers.” With a wink, she added, “Normally, I get to get rid of a whole bunch of lazy people from the Wasteland. That’s a perk of my job! But you guys have been doing such a bad job. And Atlas has been working so hard. I think I’ll take it out on YOUR citizens!”

  Panic erupted in both empires. Jed Lawson sputtered, whiskey spraying from his mouth as he shouted, “What the hell?! You can’t do that!” But his protests fell on deaf ears. The citizens could only cower as fear washed over them, knowing full well the whims of the Red Fairy were not to be trifled with.

  The Celestial Emperor slammed his fist against the arm of his throne, but his authority felt hollow in the face of the Red Fairy’s antics. “You’ll regret this, fairy! You can’t touch my subjects!” But the Red Fairy merely laughed, twirling in a swirl of sparkles.

  “Oh, but I can!” she chirped, and with that, she unleashed her magical energy.

  The Red Fairy started wrecking the two towns, in a blissful shower of lightning and glee.

  Sparks flew as bolts of lightning shot down, striking the ground with explosive force. Citizens screamed and scattered.

  “Nooooo!”

  “Whyyyyy?”

  A group of soldiers in Jed’s empire turned to run, only to trip over each other in their panic. One soldier shouted, “Get to cover! We’re under attack!”

  In the Celestial Empire, jade-skinned beauties shrieked, scrambling to hide behind their ornate columns. The Celestial Emperor, despite his bravado, could only watch in horror as a bolt struck a nearby market stall, sending goods flying and igniting panic.

  “Protect the citizens!” he bellowed, his voice cracking. Guards rushed forward, but they could only stand frozen in fear as bolts of lightning rained down.

  “Don’t worry, it’s all in good fun!” The Red Fairy said, spinning through the air, her laughter ringing out like wind chimes in a storm. She zapped at anything that moved, her energy leaving trails of light as she shifted focus from one settlement to another.

  “Help me!” shouted a terrified vendor, trying to shield his wares as a lightning bolt struck nearby, sending him tumbling to the ground. “It’s not my fault!”