The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Carl hated the apocalypse. OK probably everyone did. But he really hated it. He hated being surrounded by murderous demons. He hated flying—even in a plane, nevermind carried like lumber by a lunatic twenty-year old murder machine. He hated falling out of the sky the most.

“Shiiiiit.”

He fell through the canopy, smelling ozone and whatever bullshit that air elemental was doing, speeding towards the dirt. His warp interrupted physics, taking care of pesky things like gravity. But it had a cooldown. He couldn’t just warp willy nilly, he had to time it, and therefore fall physically through the damn trees and their sharp little branches right before he…

He warped, almost perfectly.

He still fell a good five feet, landing directly on his ass. An ass which felt like it was on fire because a giant planar lord half fried it with lightning. He groaned and sat there feeling like a big, burnt, abused bruise, blinking with confusion as a tree branch rose in front of him, entirely on its own. Then it whipped him in the face.

“Ooow.” He smacked it a few times, forced to summon his dagger before it pulled back. “Stop it. I’m on your God damn team.”

The thing sort of drooped like it was ashamed. But the little asshole was probably just resting to whip him in the face again. Carl felt the welt rising up on his cheek already, which was great. At least it made his ass hurt less.

He stood with a sigh and a hand on his face. He glanced at the Nimitz brothers battling huge, demonic lords in the air, like he was watching some kind of divine battle or Marvel movie. He decided he wanted no part of any of that.

Instead he quickly checked his messages and ran/warped for the city walls, coming to a quick halt when he found half the damn player army seemingly massing around a gate.

“There’s Carl!” Becky gave him a happy wave from the top of the wall. Her aegis formed around him like the best hug ever, and he felt instantly better. “Come on, old man, we thought you ran off scared!”

He warped right up beside her and the others with a forced glare, trying not to shiver in pleasure as Alex healed him.

“I was killing key targets. Helping Mason take down the final boss because that’s the kinda shit I do. He needed my help.”

“Things got tough, and he dropped ya like a sack a potatoes, didn’t he?”

Carl cleared his throat and looked at his soldiers, feeling better by the second. They had damn near everyone powerful ready. The Swede and some of his people. Garet with all of Phuong’s old team. Chinua had most of his. That Japanese fisherman who cleared dungeons on his own. Some of the best from the holy city. Alex. Seamus. John. Everyone.

“You got Mason’s message, then?”

Becky nodded and gave him a wink, like she was having fun.

“How the hell are we holding the walls with everyone powerful here?”

“Dunno. Weaker players. Defences. Fuckin’ orcs and elves and shit.” Becky shrugged and looked at the others. Garet, Erik and Chinua all shrug/nodded like that was pretty much true. Carl shook his head. If someone had told him he’d be fighting side by side with orcs at the end of all this, he would have laughed in their face.

“OK then. We have any idea how we actually do something to that thing? Other than die as a big team?”

He maybe said it too loud, then looked to Erik. The brilliant ex-scientist inspected Yalor’s monster with a thoughtful frown. He started once or twice to speak, then finally shrugged.

“Not as of yet.”

It maybe wasn’t great for morale. Half the nearby players glanced at each other, then at the giant champion and gathering lords with what Carl assumed was the face of your average soldier facing a Mongol horde.

“Rebecca.” Tommaso stepped closer to the conferring command team. “Since we are going to die, I must tell you, I wish…I wish I had been a better man, the sort who deserved a beautiful girl like you. That’s all I wanted to say.”

Becky looked at the Italian, then at a few of the nearby surprised and amused faces of the commanders of the apocalypse, her face going pink.

“That’s nice, Tommy. But you know you ain’t even close, right?”

Carl suppressed a snort as the pink got a little redder.

“I mean, even if it weren’t for Mason,” Becky went on. “Which is the kinda ‘if’ that should scare the piss outta you. All the world’s men are dead and I still wouldn’t touch that dirty dick of yours with a pinky.”

The spurts of laughter were starting now. Tommaso backed away like he’d heard enough, holding up his hands.

“No, no, this is one of them, teachable moments. I like you fine, Tommy, but Jesus Christ you gotta be the most arrogant fuckin’ slime ball I ever met in my life. You just made me feel bad about myself thinkin’ you got any kind of shot.”

Most of the nearby young men were howling now. Carl gave them their moment, because there was a decent chance this was the last time they’d ever laugh about anything. The thought sobered him, but he kept it from his face as he cleared his throat.

“I don’t have a speech. And we’re out of time.”

He glanced at the Nimitz brothers still flying around like superheroes battling the worst shit he’d ever seen. And it was time to go out there and join them.

“That thing’s our target.” He pointed at the giant, mist-spewing, undead monstrosity. “Dunno if we can stop it. But we can try. We hold it at the wall, in range of everything. The city’ll shoot it. Our friends on the platforms, on the walls. Maybe with enough firepower it goes down. That’s all I’ve got. Do everything you can. Listen to your captains. Let’s go.”

“Mason would be proud,” someone called after a brief silence. He got a few laughs.

Carl acknowledged it with a grin, then gave Chinua a final look and nod, hoping the man could help actually get people into their teams. But he suspected they all knew the score. They’d prepared for this. At least as much as you could prepare.

The tanks would go up front. And everyone would pray they didn’t go down.

Carl felt the right words coming, finally a genuine smile finding its way to his lips. No one needed to hear them but him. He said them quiet as he turned.

“Be ready for anything.”

It was hard to believe his life had led him here. Just a normal man by any measure. Mostly a failure in the old world, given a second chance in the new. Maybe he’d used it for the good. He hoped so.

He gestured to the civilians at the gates, and hopped off to lead the last of humanity’s soldiers out into chaos, no longer afraid to live, or to die.

**

Annie marched beside the others holding her only friend. Her protector. The only thing she’d ever need. It had given her all it had without condition. Without expecting anything in return. Now, at the end, it had finally asked for help.

[Unique Objective: The Fallen’s Revenge. Find the enemy of Arminius hiding in Yalor’s abyssal mist. Activate Symbiotic Souls, and destroy it. Reward: upgrade Arminius to his true form.]

“Can you see it yet?” she whispered.

No, said her soulmate. But he’s there. We’ll have to go inside, Annie. I have waited centuries for this chance.

She stroked the weapon’s handle, running a finger lovingly over one of the spikes. She could sense his pain and rage through their bond. His overwhelming desire to exact revenge on the being that had trapped him in the abyss those hundreds of years before.

She could see him in her mind’s eye, fiery wings twitching, dark eyes wide and glowing. She knew he hated himself now. That he was once a radiant creature with angelic wings and the face of a man, forever twisted by the abyss. She still thought he was beautiful, and wished he could see it too.

“We’ll make him pay for what he did to you. Together. I’m not afraid.”

She activated Void Soul, and made it true. Her fear vanished along with her love, and everything else. There was only her target now. A divine being somehow disguising himself and here on the primal plane.

If she was successful, perhaps it would help mankind. But she didn’t really care about the game or about the survival of the world. Not anymore. The ‘system’ had made her suffer, as it had made her friend suffer. Revenge was enough. Maybe it was everything.

The other players formed ranks and fought towards their mutual target. Dozens and soon hundreds of powers flashed and trembled around them. Annie did her job and kept at Chinua’s side, protecting the ranged and support.

She admired the general. Serving as his soldier had given her purpose and a kind of peace. Letting him think for her, tell her what to do, and give her an identity beyond the broken girl they’d found in the woods.

“Expanded wind, Julio, all the way to the target!”

If Annie could have felt anything, she might have smiled. It was like Chinua was laying out a red carpet for her. A piece of her wondered if she should have talked to him and the others, explained her objective. But there was a chance they would have tried to stop her or talk her out of it. Better to keep that chance at zero. Revenge was all that mattered now.

Yalor’s undead monster towered above them. Dark scythes of abyssal magic sliced around it lazily, leaving physical rends in the soil. Its aura killed the trees and everything else natural it touched. The mist beneath it slithered ever onward.

Annie could hear screaming in the dark. She saw pale faces with desperate eyes flash then disappear as if pulled away. She saw flashes of the night she’d left the ‘tutorial’. Her friends crying for help. She knew Arminius had been imprisoned for centuries in that mist. Even with her Voidsoul, the thought of it clenched her hands around her axe.

“All tanks forward!” Carl was shouting. “We hold it right at…everyone else push back…left side…try to…”

In all the noise and chaos, his voice flickered in and out. Primal lords were circling around them in half a dozen forms of nasty. Their minions and retinues followed, fighting with renewed will. It felt like the whole army was pressing the attack and trying to murder the players who’d left the walls.

Ranged destruction rained down from above. Spells and static defences were blasting the enemy army apart. But they just kept coming. Annie spun and hacked down half a dozen infernal demons with a Cleave, kicking another flying, driving her Night Dagger into another’s skull.

The second artifact weapon would help her in the mist, too. She was thankful for that. Leaving a gap in Chinua’s defences pricked at her sense of…what? Duty? Maybe perfectionism. But there was no choice.

She looked at the man she served one last time, knowing if he noticed her, the clever general would suspect something was off. But he was too busy with the fighting.

Now or never, said her cold, rational mind.

The players might be overwhelmed and killed, and she might lose the chance. She knew there was no chance of them bringing Yalor’s demon down. Not with the god hiding in the mist, breaking the ‘rules’ and ensuring the fall of the prime.

Arminius had told her he would. That he was evil and didn’t care about anything except suffering and death. If nothing else, maybe she’d expose him.

I’m ready, Annie. Do it now. Now!

Arminius was shaking with anticipation. But Annie’s hands were steady. This time, she’d be the strong one. She turned and activated her Charge, rushing past the tanks (to a few surprised calls), straight down Julio’s wind.

“Annie! Wait!”

Chinua’s voice. Then maybe Blake’s. She was thankful to both for trying. She truly was. But there were some things so evil they could turn angels and little girls into shadows. And they could only be fought alone, and in the dark. She vanished into the mist.

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