POV : ALIEN SHOWRUNNER OFFICE
The alien who was in charge of Monsters and Munitions at Apollo, Apocalypse Edition, was pissed. He had paid a lot of money for that sponsorship, and now his machine was draped?
“Nerdthor, this is garbage. I’m pulling my sponsorship if they don’t undrape it. You literally can’t even see my sign.”
Nerdthor said, “You can, if you want, Kintongo . But I wanted to ask you—this is going to be the most climactic battle in all of the seasons of the show, and your paintballs are going to have a huge role in it. Sure, you aren’t getting seen right now, but... do you really want to pull out before that final battle? You know that Atlas is going to do something with all of those paintballs. Those are vicious things.”
Kintongo paused. This draping of his machine was unexpected, but what Nerdathor said was true. His machines were indeed looking like they would be an important part of the action! “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking. I just need this to be successful. The board has been bringing down my neck. Sponsoring a television show about the apocalypse, even though it’s really popular, has nothing to do with paintball. We focus on non-lethal arenas around the universe.”
Nerdthor said, “If this war turns out the way I think it will, I think you have a whole new market. Think about security and peace. Think about new markets like like the police, especially with those allergy bullets. They don’t cause any permanent damage.”
Kintongo said, “You’re right. This may be the break into that secondary peacekeeping market that we’ve been looking for.”
“So, do you still want to cancel that sponsorship?”
“No,” Kintongo said. “In fact, can we double it? Can we send in more guns?”
Nerdthor said, “No, you can’t. What you have already done is enough. If we do it twice, it would bore the viewers.”
Kintongo said, “Is there really nothing we can do?”
Nerdthor thought for a second. He was trying to rack his brain for any way to maximise his income. “Well, you could sell them to Jed Lawson or the Celestial Empire.”
Kintongo said, “No, that would spoil the fun, wouldn’t it?”
Nerdthor said, “Yeah, it would. It would make you more sales, though.”
Kintongo said, “No, I don’t need a temporary amount of sales. I want that boost from watching Atlas use those paintballs to win.” He was secretly a big fan of Atlas and Portal Crushers, which was part of the reason that he had thought about this idea in the first place.
Nerdthor said, “All right, what about converting those paintball guns into live ammunition, too?”
Kintongo said, “No, we can’t do that. We already have a deal not to move into the live ammunition market. There are way too many other gun manufacturers, and if we start stepping in, it’ll be a fight we don’t want to get into.”
Nerdthor tapped his head tentacle and thought, “All right, what could we do? Hey, I’ve got an idea. You know that Atlas’s army still isn’t fully equipped with armor.”
“I thought they had level 3 armor.”
“Not all of them. Only the Portal Crusher leadership does. Most of the troops are using improvised level 1.78 bone armor. Why don’t you sponsor level 2 armor for those soldiers?”
Kintongo said, “That’s way too much money.”
“Ah, but it doesn’t have to be normal level 2 armor. It can be level 2 armor mods that are custom-fitted with paintball canister holsters on them.”
“Ooh,” said Kintongo. “That’s interesting, because the holsters are something we’ve been trying to sell.”
“Quick reaction magazines.”
“Exactly,” said Nerdthor. “They can just yank them off their holsters on their chests and slap them into the paintball guns. It’ll feel more realistic and badass.”
Kintongo said, “We still can’t pay for all of it.”
Nerdthor said, “You don’t have to. It’s not going to be a monthly price. What you can do is just put it in your machine, and I bet Atlas will see it. He’d love level 2 armor upgrades, especially if it’s customised with holsters for paintball magazines.”
Kintongo said, “Done.”
Nerdthor said, “We do have to charge you for updating your machine, though.”
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
Kintongo twitched his tentacles and said, “I knew this conversation was going cost me, you greedy bastard.”
‘‘‘
POV : AMERICA UNITED SETTLEMENT
The war in the wasteland had now lasted for months. It could have ended quicker if Atlas hadn’t been so adamant about never wasting troops, his attacks were all probing, with rarely any serious commitments to major battles.
Atlas and the Portal Crushers had been leading fake rushes at America United all this time. The last month had been filled with a series of feints. They’d rush in, retreat back towards their path of traps, and then run away, letting the scouts do the routing and picking off any soldiers that followed them. Jed Lawson had long since stopped falling for it. He holed up strong in his fort at America United, but this time it was different, Atlas wasn’t faking. Battering rams smashed into the walls, and junk cannons guaranteed to fire anything through a level 3 wall fired all sorts of garbage. Used Soylent Green boxes, broken armor and trashed weapons were all fired towards the wall.
BOOM
BOOM
The troll army led by Portilla and Crushir, now 100 strong and all decked out in level 2 armor with anti-flame potions, rushed the walls.
RAWWWRRRRRRR
“This isn’t a fake anymore!” Jed Lawson said. The gates of his walls were getting hit hard.
“Rush forward!” Atlas yelled.
CRACK!
The gate cracked open slightly. America United had not expected this to be a full-on charge. Their defenses were set up for the same routing and fake chase they had been in for last month. For the last month, it had been feints, harassing attacks, and annoying retreats.
No one knew that today, Atlas wasn’t playing around anymore. The cracking of the gate signaled the final attack on America United.
‘‘‘‘
The army, seeing the wall and the gate being cracked, rushed in. They held their M16 carbine paintball guns proudly.
“Ignore those stupid fools! Those are all paintball guns; we all saw the announcement!” Jed Lawson shouted as his army rushed forward, crossbows ready to fire.
THWIP, THWIP, THWIP!
They hit nothing more than shields.
Responding to the crossbows, behind the row of shieldbearers and tanks, the soldiers with M16 carbines started firing their paintballs.
BLOOP
BLOOP
BLOOP
But these weren't the harmless paintballs that Jed Lawson assumed. No, these were pepperballs, allergen balls, and acid balls.
“My face! No!”
“Why is it sooooo itchy!”
“Helllp!”
Some of the soldiers have been hit with acid balls.
Other soldiers dropped their weapons completely, scratching their bodies, rolling on the floor, trying to get rid of what felt like bee stings combined with the nastiest itch they had ever felt. The paintballs were doing their job.
BLOOP
BLOOP
BLOOP
The Fort Bone soldiers continued firing into the crowd of American soldiers.
“Nothing beats rapid rate of fire, motherfuckers!” Alexander yelled as he charged into the army. He had replaced his greatsword on his back and was dual wielding two paintball guns. Paintball guns had really low recoil.
BLOOP
BLOOP
BLOOP
The attacks continued without stop.
The American army looked tired, their soldiers shifting uneasily as they exchanged uncertain glances. Exhaustion hung in the air like a thick fog, and the once-proud banners now drooped listlessly. They had faced wave after wave of relentless attacks, and it was evident that morale was wavering.
Many of them were smeared with dirt and grime, their uniforms tattered and stained from countless skirmishes. A few soldiers slumped against their makeshift barricades, breathing heavily, their faces pale and drawn. The booming sounds of Atlas’s forces echoing in the distance created a growing sense of dread among the ranks.
They were looking beaten, like a cornered animal with nowhere to run. Whispers of defeat rippled through the camp, mixing with the distant roars of the advancing army. It was clear they were beginning to question their leadership, their resolve crumbling under the weight of despair.
In that moment, Atlas could sense their vulnerability, the cracks in their defenses widening with each passing second. It was an opportunity—a chink in the armor of the once-mighty American army, and he was determined to exploit it. The scent of victory hung tantalisingly close, and he could almost taste it on the wind.
---
The only thing left was taking down Jed Lawson. But Jed wasn’t going to go down easy.
“Atlas!” he yelled.
Atlas heard him across the battlefield, and ignoring any kind of safety, he charged right at Jed. Jed swung his sword; he, too, had been gene-boosted. There was no way a leader would accept anything less. The speed of his sword was incredible. But Atlas was not only gene-boosted, he had OP MC creds and two lifetimes of experience fighting. He didn’t take Jed Lawson seriously. He ducked underneath the sword and kicked him in the knee.
“Fuck!” said Jed as he stumbled. When he stumbled, Atlas used his two swords to cross down on Jed's single one. Jed Lawson tried to turn, but Atlas jumped in the air and kicked him in the face with his boot.
“Night Elf!” he yelled. It was still his favorite move.
Jed flipped back onto the ground. His sword was still in his hand, but his shield flew away. He scrambled backward, trying to get out of the range of Atlas, but Atlas wasn’t going to let him go. His sword kept swinging down—clank, clank—banging into Jed Lawson's sword as he desperately defended.
A crossbow fired from out of nowhere and hit Atlas in the side of the face.
THWIP
“Fuck!” yelled Atlas as blood spurted from his head. His armor had held, but like any other armor, there were holes. A gruesome crossbow bolt pierced his cheek. Jed Lawson took this opportunity to get up and swing his sword again. If he didn’t know there was a MedPod waiting this would be a brutal injury.
Atlas didn't care about the injury though, he quickly downed some anti-pain medicine. He swung his swords, and one of them caught Jed's hand. The armor that Jed was wearing was level three, and Atlas's sword was also level three. They countered each other, not allowing him to slice through the armor but still doing enough to move it out of the way. In the Wasteland sword fights were brutal, fast and lethal.
With the second sword, Atlas moved in on Jed Lawson's center line. Sliding in, he stabbed into his armpit where only chainmail held.
“Arr!” yelled Jed. This time, he was truly disarmed. Atlas followed up with a spinning back kick.
CRACK!
Jed fell down hard. Atlas couldn’t say much besides making a muffled groan because of the crossbow bolt in his face, but Jed Lawson could tell from the look in his eyes that Atlas wasn’t going to be merciful.. The swords would speak for him, and they did. Atlas slammed both of his swords into Jed's eyes, SQUELCH, and that was the end of Jed Lawson and America United.
‘‘‘
