Icarus heaved ragged breaths, covered in sparkles. Most of them were from his fellow Godfeathers. He looked down at a wounded Brandon.

  “C’mon, Nate… don’t lose your head in here.” Brandon tried to scoot away from Icarus, but he’d backed against the pillar where the Karjok had been netted before Erik’s daring and completely unrealistic escape. “We can’t stay here. We need to find a way out. You could help us. We need you.”

  In the distance, the battle among the Godfeathers raged on. They’d realized, as Icarus had, that this was their moment to ascend to greatness, that whoever came out ahead could claim the Godfeather’s throne.

  But they were all wrong about how to win this game. It was so simple.

  Icarus scooped up a nearby baseball bat. He’d lost his awhile back, but this one would do in a pinch.

  “Hey, hey…” Brandon had no more room to back up. “I-I don’t have any attempts left. Assassin’s Bleed is a one-shot game. No extra lives. I’m not even in here for myself. Don’t do this, Nate. I have to find my son! I—”

  “I’m not gonna kill you, Brandon.” Icarus stood over him. “At least not yet. But seeing as I’m doing you the favor of using your real name, unlike my idiot brother, you can do the same with me. Call me Icarus.”

  Brandon exhaled a shaky sigh. “Okay, sure. Sure… Icarus.”

  “Much better.”

  “Aaaand you can call me Mandible.”

  “I’m never gonna call you that, Brandon.”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “Okay. I get it.” Brandon held his hands up. “Uh, do you mind if I heal myself a bit? I’m pretty beat up, and… oh, you’re walking away. Alright.”

  As Icarus stalked toward the bloated form of Don Crowleone, the Godfeather, flourishing his bat over his shoulder, he couldn’t help but smile.

  “You… are such… a disappointment…” croaked the dying penguin.

  The time for drawn-out soliloquys and bargaining was over. Without a word, Icarus raised the bat high over his head and slammed it down hard.

  Then he did it again. And again. And again.

  Glitter and sparkles erupted and sprayed in every direction, coating the carpet all around and spattering on Icarus’s now thoroughly-ruined suit.

  [Feud Resolved: All Players and NPCs of The Godfeather have lost to Icarus.]

  The Godfeather’s body disintegrated into sparkles and feathers, leaving behind only a loot box and a cannoli. Icarus’s WHIM lit up.

  | Status Attained: Usurper |

  | Reward: +$50,000 AllCash |

  | +20,000 XP |

  | Level Up x5 |

  | Unlocked: Godfeather Successor status |

  | Player Icarus may assume authority over the Godfeathers/Crowleone Family |

  | Accept? |

  Icarus grinned at the option. When he’d seen the Successor option earlier, he’d dared to hope for an opportunity like this, though he hadn’t expected it to come so soon.

  Heir of the Don. Godkiller. Usurper. Successor.

  Soon, he’d rule it all.

  He smiled and hit Accept, then he headed for the office doors. The fighting and gunfire outside had subsided as his fellow Players realized he’d outdone them. By killing the Godfeather, he’d conquered the game.

  They worked for him now.

  Behind him, Brandon stood to his feet, gradually recovering his HP. “Uh, Nate—I mean, Icarus? What should we do about his loot box? And this giant revolver he dropped—pretty cool gun. I can’t use it, but maybe you’d want it? Oh, and there’s some sort of pastry here, too, I guess?”

  Icarus stopped, and his head swiveled 180 degrees to look back at his hostage.

  “Leave the gun.” With the briefest moment of thought, he added, “Take the cannoli.”

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  break--Royal Road. They call us the Critical Hitters.

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  Dungeon Crawler Carl Audio Immersion Tunnel for Soundbooth Theater, and he's the lead writer for the Dungeon Crawler Carl Role Playing Game.