He woke facedown in the dirt, gritty earth filling his nose and mouth.

  For a moment, there was only the pressure of dirt against his face, the smell of moss, and the kind of silence that felt switched on rather than empty. No breeze. No birds. No traffic hum. No nothing. Just the heavy ache of a body that shouldn't be.

  Then, before he could even open his eyes, a voice whispered.

  “Let us cast you into the edge of despair, stripped of everything but will. Will you shatter like all before you… Or will you crawl, bleed, and roar? I will not interfere. I only wish to see… will the Unbreakable stand, even if reality itself rejects him with unstoppable force?”

  He sat up with a sharp breath, heart pounding as the words echoed through his mind like the aftertaste of a nightmare.

  He couldn’t tell if he wanted to swear or throw up.

  “What… the hell was that?” he muttered, eyes adjusting to a dim, overcast sky.

  No time for this. Where am I?

  He pushed to his feet, legs shaky. Damp jeans and a torn T-shirt clung to his skin. As he straightened, blood caked his collar where the rail had pierced his throat—no pain, no scar, no bus, just him. Fumbling in his jacket pocket, his fingers brushed something sticky. He pulled out a half-melted chocolate bar, the wrapper fused to the mess. The silence pressed in as reality set in: this was nowhere he recognised.

  “Bastard. Figures.” He shoved it back, boots sinking into loamy soil—and froze.

  “Right, there is zero chance I fucking survived that one.”

  He paused, let it land.

  “So there is an afterlife. Figures for a smart-arse atheist,” he muttered. “Some Scottish charm will solve that right up.”

  He laughed under his breath, disbelief mingling with amazement. His hands trembled as he steadied himself.

  A sudden scream shattered the quiet—raw, desperate, cutting through like a knife.

  His head snapped up. “What the—”

  Another scream, closer, laced with snarls and shouts. Kids’ voices. Panic.

  “Ahhhh! Great start to the holiday this is,” he growled, breaking into a sprint.

  He spotted streets twisting ahead—a glitchy small town of warped houses, looping roads, and a gas station. He charged forward into this strange town, not stopping.

  Not on my watch.

  He burst into a clearing and skidded to a halt at the edge. A black, wolf-like creature shrouded in fog lunged not far ahead. Two boys stood in front of a girl, one brandishing a pipe and the other aiming a revolver. Blood streaked the girl’s arm; she gripped a katana tightly as she shifted behind her brothers.

  The boys shouted. Milo fired, but the gun clicked empty. Aidan swung his pipe, muttering, “This is bullshit—we’re dead.”

  The wolf lunged for her—he moved on instinct.

  He slammed into the creature, crushing it to the ground.

  “RUN!” he roared.

  Yeah, I thought I’d look badass—but things happen fast.

  He pinned it, pounding its gut with relentless fists, ignoring pain.

  “Pick on kids, huh? Try me instead, asshole!”

  The wolf bit into his arm. Blood flowed, but he held tight.

  “Oh, that actually hurts! Fuck you!”

  He pummeled the wolf’s side. Fog tightened, pulling him down.

  He looked up. The triplets stood frozen, faces pale.

  “Hey! Get out of here before this thing kills me! Move!”

  He slammed his elbow into the wolf’s ribs. “Let’s dance!”

  The triplets staggered back—Milo first, pipe trembling as he retreated, but his eyes hopeful. Aidan yanked Milo farther from danger.

  “Idiot’s gonna die—run!”

  The girl couldn’t tear her eyes away, watching this stranger fight like a lunatic.

  Clutching the katana, she whispered, “I need to help him.”

  Her brothers shouted, “Keira! Don’t!” She kept moving.

  “Hey, asshole, catch!” she shouted, throwing the katana.

  His hand snapped up, catching it mid-fight—despite the wolf latching onto his arm.

  He glared. “What the shit was that? Don’t fucking throw a shitting katana at me, Jesus Christ!”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  A massive grin split his face. “But thanks.”

  With savage joy, he drew back. “Let’s see if you survive this, asshole.”

  He drove the katana into the wolf’s neck.

  The creature’s head hit the ground. The fog peeled away and faded.

  Panting, bleeding, he looked at the girl. “Why didn’t you run? You’d have been safer.”

  “Yeah, well,” she said, gripping her arm. She smacked him lightly on the head. “I don’t know who’s the bigger idiot—you or them.”

  They stared, then she hugged him. “Thank you for coming.”

  He laughed tiredly, nudging her. “Em, yeah, no bother—quick question: where the fuck are we, and why are there two of the same people?” He pointed at the boys.

  She pulled back, smiling. “Oh, so you're an idiot too? Hi, I'm Keira. That's Milo, and that's Aidan—we're the Langston triplets.”

  “Aw, and no goddamn hot chocolate again, you believe this shit?” Keira added, grimacing at her arm. “I'm all clawed up, and not a bite of choc in sight. Figures.”

  Caelan fished the melted bar from his pocket and lobbed it. “Fuck—take this, it's melted. Find water or milk later? Better than nothing.”

  Keira caught it, eyes lighting up. She pocketed it, warmth lingering as they walked.

  Before more words could be exchanged among them, a bright light pulsed from the cracked ground ahead, like something burning out.

  Milo squinted. “Where is that coming from?”

  “It was doing that earlier,” Aidan said quietly.

  Caelan blinked. “Earlier? I just woke up—how long have you been here?”

  Keira frowned. “We woke up a few hours ago. What happened to you?”

  Caelan touched his throat. “Bus hit me… I think? You?”

  Keira puffed up. “Oh, just a fire. Guess you know as much as we do?”

  “Right. Wait here, I’m checking that light,” Caelan said, heading toward it.

  Keira ignored his instruction and hurried to catch up, closing the gap to fall into step beside him as he moved ahead.

  He shot her a look. “I told you to wait.”

  “Make me, bitch.” She smirked.

  Caelan glanced back. “You two?”

  Aidan shrugged. “We go where sis goes.”

  Milo laughed. “Yeah, like it’s a choice.”

  They advanced toward the pulsing glow, weaving carefully between the twisted buildings. Caelan led the way, glancing around at the terrain while the triplets followed closely, matching his cautious pace.

  “Hey, noticed this place is like if Fallout 3 met Skyrim—”

  “—like Fallout 3 meets Skyrim?” Keira said simultaneously.

  Caelan stared. “Oh shit, you?”

  Keira grinned. “Motherfucker, I bet I have more time in Skyrim than you.”

  “Maybe,” he laughed, “but I'll destroy your Fallout times.”

  The two laughed, bumping fists.

  Milo nudged Aidan. “Oh, look, she’s making a friend.”

  “Uh-huh,” Aidan muttered under his breath. “The kind who tackles fog-wolves bare-handed. Charming.”

  Caelan wiped blood from his knuckles, catching his breath. The air around them began to buzz with a tune they didn’t recognise. He glanced at the triplets—Keira with her bandaged arm and firecracker grin, the boys like mismatched bookends.

  “Right, introductions before the next furry bastard shows up?”

  Keira tilted her head. “So am I calling you asshole from now on or what?”

  Caelan flashed a lopsided smile. “Shit, my bad. Hi, I'm Caelan. Your local Glasgow nutcase—emphasis on the nut.”

  The triplets sized him up with teasing grins, questions firing off in quick succession.

  Milo squinted at his hair. “What's with the ponytail?”

  Aidan eyed him up and down. “Why are you so short?”

  Keira chimed in, “Thought of shaving that beard?”

  A low, steady hum erupted from the cracked pavement ahead, like an engine finally turning over. Caelan frowned and took a cautious step closer.

  There, bolted to an old metal pole deep in the asphalt, was a notice board. The sort you’d walk past every day without a second glance—cork backing gone soft with age, covered corner to corner, pinned under cracked plastic.

  Except for the glowing light it was emitting.

  Soft golden light seeped from every edge and letter, warm and steady, as if someone had swapped the bulb behind it for pure sunlight. The glass front was spider-webbed with cracks, yet the words printed on the sheets inside shone crisp and new, scrolling slowly upward as if someone were turning an invisible roll of paper.

  Keira’s eyes went wide. “It’s… It’s just a notice board. A glowing bloody notice board.”

  Aidan reached out, then thought better of it. “Don’t touch it.”

  Milo snorted. “It’s sis and a glowing notice board. When has that ever ended well?”

  Caelan leaned in, squinting at the golden-lit sheet pinned front and centre.

  “‘This is not your end,’” he read aloud. “You have now awakened within the Immortal Emperor Wars. Christ, sounds like a bad anime title.”

  Keira snorted. “Keep going, it's got to be a joke.”

  He skimmed lower, voice slowing as the numbers began to sink in.

  Current commanders remaining: 1,847,221,603,862

  Current followers remaining: 0

  Days elapsed: 0

  Eliminated: 153,382… and climbing.

  “Almost two trillion commanders?” Milo whispered. “And nobody has followers yet?”

  Aidan tapped another pinned sheet that had just rolled into view like a fresh print-out.

  “Okay, listen to this bit,” he said, eyebrows climbing.

  “Everyone goes home in twelve to eighteen months—the same time as all other souls within this war. Losers wake up as if nothing happened. No memories, no power, nothing. The final seven commanders and every single person who ever followed them—even the eliminated ones—come back with everything they earned. Memories, strength, the lot.”

  He paused. Milo and Keira both turned to Caelan at the same time.

  Caelan blinked. “So… top seven get to keep the cheat codes. Everyone else gets a hard reset.”

  “Pretty much,” Aidan said. “But it’s worse. Seventh place gets the smallest slice and the title ‘First Immortal Emperor’. First place—the very last one standing—gets the lion’s share and becomes the Seventh Immortal Emperor.”

  Keira barked a laugh. “They numbered it backwards just to fuck with us.”

  Caelan scrolled with a finger an inch from the glass. Another line glowed brighter:

  All souls are shaped in my image—human form, human tongue. No exceptions.

  “No elves, no cat-girls, no nothing,” Keira groaned. “This goddess has zero imagination.”

  And at the very bottom, in cheerful cursive that looked freshly handwritten:

  Lots of love,

  The Goddess.

  Caelan stared at the little heart, then lost it completely.

  “She put a fucking heart. She actually signed it ‘lots of love’ after dumping two trillion humans into a death game.”

  He wheezed, wiping his eyes. “That’s it. We’re doomed. She forgot the most dangerous species in the universe: us. Have you seen the internet? This is every Reddit moderator’s wet dream.”

  Keira collapsed against him, cackling. Aidan just pinched the bridge of his nose like he was already tired of the next ten thousand years.

  Milo glanced at the elimination counter ticking upward and muttered, “So… we doing this or what?”

  Caelan straightened, ponytail flicking, grin turning sharp.

  “Right then. Who’s ready to burn this fucker to the ground?”

  Keira's laugh turned wicked. “Bitch, where have you been all my life?”

  Caelan blinked. “Ow, you're like fourteen or what?”

  Milo mumbled, slyly, “Physically. Mentally? Well…”

  The group erupted—Keira's almost terrifying laugh leading, her hand smacking the back of Milo's head, Aidan snorting reluctantly, Caelan chuckling as he kept one eye on the glowing board. The board hummed, elimination count, rising:

  153,412… 153,456… 153,501…

  For that breath, four misfits laughed like they owned the apocalypse.

  “Yeah, guess what—he's our big brother now. Deal with it. Any complaints? Address them to my fucking fists,” Keira added, smirking as they edged closer.

  Milo laughed harder, clutching his side, while Aidan protested, “Sis, come on—we just met him,” even as he shuffled nearer, defiance sealing their bond like the light pulsing ahead.