The Mages, shielded by the King’s roar, finish their cast.

  “Chris! Watch out!”

  An Orc General seizes the opening. He brings a heavy axe down on Chris is shield. The metal holds, but the bone doesn’t.

  CRACK. “AAAAH!”

  Chris' shield collapses, his left arm twisted at a sickening angle. The shield drops. Our wall is broken. We’re exposed. Backs to the wall. Chris is down, I’m out of cooldowns, and Kim is dry.

  The five Fire Mages point their staffs. At me. The leader. A concentrated fireball, white-hot, streaks across the room. Straight for my face. I’m frozen. Zero stamina left to dodge. This is it. I close my eyes.

  “BEN! NO!”

  A shadow blurs in front of me. Kim. She dives right into the line of fire.

  BOOOOOM. The impact is devastating. The blast throws Chris and me against the stone wall. Heat singes my eyelashes, and the shockwave empties my lungs. I hit the ground hard, dazed. I cough, choking on the acrid black smoke filling the air. A high-pitched ringing screams in my ears, drowning out the battle.

  “Kim?” I croak, voice broken. “Kim!”

  I stare through the settling dust. Where she stood a second ago, there is only a terrifying void. The ground is scorched, vitrified by the intense heat. A burn mark stains the stone, like a nuclear shadow.

  But Kim is gone.

  I look for a trace, a body part, a scrap of armor. Nothing. The concentrated magic atomized her on the spot. Deleted from existence.

  Her rifle lies in the center of the smoking crater, a tragic relic. The barrel is bent from the heat, the metal glowing cherry-red, sizzling against the cold floor. A steel tombstone. My brain freezes. It’s a bug. A loading error. She can’t be gone. She is too fast, too strong.

  Then reality hits me like a mace to the chest. The silence of her absence is louder than the Orcs’ roar. My brain screams it. Kim is dead.

  No time to cry. No time to scream. The crash of iron boots reminds me I’m next. I turn my head. Chris is slumped against the wall, motionless. Blood runs from a gash on his forehead. His left arm hangs at an angle that makes me want to puke. He’s out cold.

  “Get up, Chris!” I roar, voice cracking. “We’re not dying today!”

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  I grab his breastplate and pull. He’s heavy. Dead weight. Even with my stats, dragging an unconscious body feels like lifting a truck. I hoist him onto my shoulder.

  A shadow falls over me. Two Orc grunts are already there. They snarl, foaming at the mouth, red eyes locked on my throat. No choice. I let Chris slide down my leg and raise my shovel with a trembling hand.

  “Come on, you pieces of shit!”

  The first one swings his axe. I parry with the shovel handle. The wood cracks. The impact nearly buckles my knees. The second one takes the opening and kicks me in the gut. I stagger back, gasping, the taste of copper in my mouth. No stamina to dodge. No strength to hit. Only one option left.

  I pour all my hatred into my passive skill. [Public Nuisance]. The saturated smell of death envelops me. The two Orcs grimace, choking, hesitating for a fraction of a second. That’s all I needed.

  I drive the shovel tip into the first one’s foot, crushing boot and bone. He screams. I yank it back in a spray of black blood and slash the second one’s throat with the edge.

  “Die!”

  I finish the first one with a boot to the temple.

  THWACK. A hot, sharp pain pierces my left thigh. I drop to one knee. I look down. A black arrow with dirty feathers is buried to the bone.

  “AAAAH!”

  The pain is blinding, shooting up my spine like 220 volts. I try to stand, but my leg gives out. In the distance, the archers are reloading. The Porci Orc King laughs on his throne. I look at Chris is, motionless in the dust.

  “No… not him…”

  I grit my teeth so hard I hear one crack. I lean on my shovel like a crutch and force myself up. Every movement is torture. I grab Chris is. I can’t shoulder him anymore. I carry him in my arms, like a child, clutching my shovel awkwardly against his side.

  I start to run. Well, limp fast. I drag my dead leg, gasping, heart pounding. I hug the wall, looking for an exit that doesn’t exist. I head toward where Kim vanished. I don’t know why. Maybe to die with her. Maybe because her rifle is the only trace of hope left.

  THWACK. Another hit. Right shoulder. I grunt, stumbling forward. The arrow punched through the deltoid. My right arm goes dead. My fingers, slick with blood, open up.

  Chris is slips from my grip.

  I watch him fall in slow motion, helpless. He hits the ground hard, his leather armor making a sickening thud. He rolls against the wall, head lolling like a puppet with cut strings.

  “Chris!”

  The scream tears my throat. My legs give out. I collapse. My knees hit the stone next to him. I’m done. Drained. Bleeding out, a red puddle spreading under my jeans. My right arm is dead meat. My left thigh is on fire, like the arrow is made of live coal.

  A shrill alarm screams in my skull, synchronized with my erratic heartbeat.

  [CRITICAL ALERT]: HP < 10%.

  [System]: Imminent organic failure.

  I look up, vision swimming with black spots. The horde is here.

  The noise of the charge has stopped. That’s the worst part. They aren’t running anymore. They aren’t screaming. They’re walking. A compact line of Orc warriors advancing slowly, methodically, iron boots hammering the floor in unison.

  THUD. THUD. THUD.

  They know they’ve won. No need to rush. They’re coming to finish off the cripples. I see the cruel smiles on their pig faces, the triumph in their yellow eyes. This is it. The real Game Over. The one where the screen stays black.

  Kim is dead, vaporized saving my ass. Chris is broken. And I’m a corpse on borrowed time.

  “Sorry, Chris…” I whisper, stroking my nephew’s hair. “I didn’t keep my promise.”