The hotel lobby was quiet, an unusual calm settling over the group after the intensity of their last encounter. Josh, Lauri, William, and Lojan had taken refuge in one of the private lounges, away from the chaos that still lingered in the aftermath of their confrontation with Illistancio. The Power Lottery ticket was safely in Josh's pocket, but the weight of it seemed to press down on all of them.

  As they sat in the dimly lit room, the conversation gradually shifted from the immediate danger to the broader implications of their situation. Lauri, ever the empathetic one, noticed William sitting apart from the group, lost in thought. His usual sarcastic demeanor was absent, replaced by a distant, almost haunted look.

  "William," Lauri called softly, pulling him out of his reverie. "You okay?"

  William blinked, as if shaking off a heavy memory. He offered her a small, half-hearted smile. "Yeah, just... thinking about the past."

  "Care to share?" Josh asked, leaning forward. He knew that William didn't usually open up about his experiences in the Power Royale, but something about the way he looked now suggested that maybe he was ready to talk.

  William sighed, leaning back in his chair. "You know, before the Power Royale started, they held a press conference for the top ten seeded competitors."

  Lojan, always eager to lighten the mood, grinned. "What, like a media circus? Bet that was a blast."

  "Yeah, something like that," William replied, his tone a mix of sarcasm and melancholy. "I was seeded eighth. Not too bad, right? But in the eyes of the media, I might as well have been a nobody."

  Lauri frowned. "Why? Your metal manipulation is powerful."

  "Maybe, but not as flashy as some of the others," William said, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Benito Garcia—he was the second seed. And to the media, he'd already won the whole damn thing. No one else mattered, not really. Especially not me."

  The room fell silent as William's words hung in the air. Josh and Lauri exchanged glances, sensing that there was more to the story.

  William's gaze grew distant again, his mind drifting back to that fateful day.

  Flashback: The Press Conference

  The room was filled with the hum of voices, reporters from every major network vying for the best position to catch a glimpse of the top ten contenders. Flashbulbs popped incessantly as cameras captured every move, every expression. The air was thick with the smell of cologne, hairspray, and the faintest hint of fear—fear masked by bravado.

  William Dangerfield, just 23 years old at the time, sat at the far end of the table. He'd dressed for the occasion—sharp suit, clean shave, a look that screamed confidence. But inside, he felt like a small fish in a very large pond.

  At the center of the table sat Benito Garcia, the man everyone was betting on. With his ability to manipulate distances, he was seen as practically untouchable. The media buzzed around him like flies, every question directed his way.

  William clenched his fists under the table, feeling the familiar sting of being overlooked. He'd fought hard to get here, and yet all anyone wanted to talk about was Benito.

  Finally, a reporter—a slim man with a slicked-back haircut and a smug smile—turned to William. "Mr. Dangerfield," he began, his tone dripping with condescension, "how do you plan to compete with the top eight when your ability is, well, let's face it, somewhat... mid-tier?"

  The question hit William like a slap in the face. The room grew quiet, all eyes suddenly on him, waiting for his response.

  William's blood boiled. He'd spent years perfecting his control over metal, turning what others saw as a 'mid-tier' ability into something formidable. And now, here he was, being dismissed as if he were nothing more than filler.

  Without missing a beat, he leaned forward, locking eyes with the reporter. "Go fuck yourself."

  A stunned silence followed his words. The reporter's face turned a shade of crimson, but before he could respond, the room erupted in a mix of laughter and gasps. William didn't care. He wasn't there to play nice, and he sure as hell wasn't there to be disrespected.

  From that moment on, William became a wildcard in the eyes of the public—unpredictable, dangerous, and impossible to ignore.

  Back in the Present

  William chuckled, though there was no joy in it. "After that, they stopped underestimating me. But it didn't change the fact that, to them, Benito had already won. They couldn't see past his ability to see what the rest of us were capable of."

  Josh and Lauri listened intently, absorbing the story. It was a reminder of the harsh realities of their world, where power was everything, but perception could be just as dangerous.

  "You showed them, though," Lauri said softly, her admiration for William clear in her voice.

  "Yeah, I did," William replied, a hint of pride returning to his expression. "But it wasn't easy. And it didn't make the fight any less brutal."

  Josh leaned back, contemplating the weight of what William had shared. "It sounds like the Power Royale was as much a battle of wills as it was a fight of abilities."

  William nodded. "More than you know. And if this Power Lottery is anything like the Royale, you're in for a hell of a ride. But remember—it's not always the strongest who wins. Sometimes, it's the one who refuses to be underestimated."

  Lojan, ever the optimist, grinned. "Well, we've got that covered. I mean, who'd underestimate a guy who told a reporter to fuck off in the middle of a press conference?"

  The group laughed, the tension easing just a bit. But the gravity of what lay ahead still weighed heavily on them.

  As they prepared to leave the lounge and face whatever challenges awaited them next, Josh found himself thinking about William's story. The Power Lottery was about more than just winning—it was about surviving. And if they were going to make it through, they'd need every ounce of strength, courage, and, most importantly, the will to prove they were more than anyone expected.

  Lojan Mackimee needed a break. The hotel was suffocating, the walls closing in with every passing minute as tension and paranoia built up among the remaining contestants. The Power Lottery had turned into a game of survival, and as much as he liked to joke around, even Lojan felt the weight of what was at stake.

  The fresh air outside was a welcome relief. The night was cool, a gentle breeze brushing against his skin as he made his way down the dimly lit street toward the gas station. The place was quiet—too quiet for comfort, really, but Lojan shrugged it off. After everything they'd been through, a little peace and quiet wasn't so bad.

  As he rounded the corner, the gas station's fluorescent lights flickered in the distance, a beacon in the otherwise darkened town. Lojan's stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten much since the chaos earlier that day. A snack and maybe something to drink would do him good.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

  But as he approached the entrance, he noticed a figure loitering near the pumps—a tall man in a dirty, worn-out jacket, pacing back and forth. Lojan immediately felt a pang of unease. The man seemed agitated, his movements erratic, as if he was waiting for something—or someone.

  Lojan hesitated for a moment before shaking off his doubts. What's the worst that could happen? he thought, stepping forward.

  The automatic doors slid open with a soft whoosh, and Lojan entered the small convenience store attached to the gas station. The place was deserted except for the bored-looking cashier who barely glanced up from his magazine. Lojan made his way to the back, grabbing a soda and a pack of chips. He was halfway to the counter when the bell above the door chimed, signaling another customer.

  It was the man from outside.

  Lojan watched him out of the corner of his eye, noticing how the man's gaze seemed to lock onto him, a predatory gleam in his eyes. Something about him screamed trouble.

  "Hey, monkey, got a light?" the man called out, his voice dripping with mockery.

  Lojan bristled at the insult but forced himself to stay calm. "Don't smoke, sorry."

  The man sneered, stepping closer. "Figures. What are you doing out here, anyway? This late at night, all alone?"

  Lojan sized him up, his instincts kicking in. This guy wasn't just some random thug—there was something off about him, something dangerous. "Just grabbing a snack. What's it to you?"

  The man chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "What's it to me? Everything."

  In an instant, the man lunged forward, his hand shooting out to grab Lojan's arm. Lojan tried to pull back, but the man was fast—too fast. His fingers clamped down on Lojan's wrist, and immediately, Lojan felt a strange, sickening sensation spread through his body.

  "What the hell—" Lojan tried to wrench himself free, but his legs buckled beneath him. His muscles turned to jelly, his bones feeling like they'd melted. He collapsed to the floor, his limbs refusing to cooperate.

  The man grinned down at him, a twisted satisfaction in his eyes. "Heard of me, monkey? They call me Gilbert Holcomb. Got a little gift—anything I touch turns soft, flaccid, useless. Like you."

  Lojan gritted his teeth, trying to summon the strength to stand, but his legs wouldn't respond. His body felt like rubber, every ounce of his immortality useless against this bizarre, insidious power.

  "You're just another joke," Gilbert continued, his voice oozing contempt. "All that talk, all those one-liners, but when it comes down to it, you're nothing. Just another monkey playing a game you can't win."

  Lojan's mind raced, trying to figure out a way out of this mess. He wasn't used to feeling helpless, and the sensation was infuriating. But even as he struggled to push through the effects of Gilbert's power, he knew he couldn't do it alone.

  With shaking hands, he fumbled for his phone, managing to pull it from his pocket. Gilbert watched him with amusement, clearly enjoying Lojan's desperation.

  "Who you gonna call, huh? Your little friends? They're not here to save you."

  Ignoring him, Lojan hit the speed dial, praying that Josh would pick up. The phone rang once, twice, and then—

  "Josh, it's me," Lojan gasped, his voice strained. "I'm at the gas station. I need help, now."

  "Whoa, Lojan? What's going on?" Josh's voice crackled through the line, concern evident.

  "Just—get here, fast," Lojan managed before the phone slipped from his grip, clattering to the floor.

  Gilbert crouched down, picking up the phone and dangling it in front of Lojan's face. "Help won't get here in time, monkey. You're done."

  But even as he said the words, Lojan caught the faint sound of footsteps approaching outside. Relief surged through him, knowing that Josh wouldn't let him down.

  The doors to the gas station slid open once more, and Lojan closed his eyes, focusing on the sounds of the approaching footsteps. The chapter ends on a cliffhanger, leaving the reader in suspense, wondering whether Josh will arrive in time to save his friend from Gilbert's cruel ability.

  Gilbert Holcomb strolled away from the gas station with a satisfied smirk, his mind replaying the look of helplessness on Lojan Mackimee's face. It was almost too easy. Lojan might have been immortal, but Gilbert's ability to turn anything he touched into rubber had rendered the so-called "unkillable" man completely useless. As far as Gilbert was concerned, one more obstacle was out of the way.

  The streetlights cast long, wavering shadows as Gilbert continued down the deserted road. He hummed to himself, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets. The Power Lottery was nearing its end, and soon, the ticket would be his. He'd been at the bottom of society long enough—this was his chance to rise above, and he wouldn't let anyone stand in his way.

  But then, a sudden jolt surged through his body, stopping him dead in his tracks. His muscles spasmed uncontrollably, and he let out a strangled grunt of pain. For a second, Gilbert thought he'd been hit by a taser, but there was no one around—just the quiet, empty street.

  "What the hell?" he muttered, glancing around in confusion. He took a step forward, but another electric shock coursed through his body, stronger this time. His legs gave out, and he fell to his knees, his teeth gritted in pain.

  "Looking for something?" a voice called out from the darkness.

  Gilbert's head snapped up, and he spotted three figures approaching him. Josh Cruise, Lauri Cruise, and William Dangerfield stepped into the light, their faces grim and determined. Gilbert's eyes narrowed as he realized he'd been lured into a trap.

  Josh held his mystical sword in one hand, its blade glowing faintly under the streetlights. Lauri had a small, sleek device in her hand—some kind of modified phone, crackling with electrical energy. And William's hands were encased in metallic gloves, his face set with a look that was half amusement, half caution.

  Gilbert chuckled, a low, mocking sound. "Well, well, well. The kiddie brigade has finally caught up. Took you long enough."

  "Shut up, Gilbert," Lauri snapped, her eyes flashing with anger. "You really thought you could run away after what you did to Lojan?"

  Gilbert raised an eyebrow, still on his knees but managing to look defiant. "Run away? Sweetheart, I wasn't running. Just taking a little stroll."

  William smirked. "Yeah, a stroll where you turned Lojan into a puddle of rubber. Real brave, Gilbert."

  Gilbert's grin widened. "Bravery? This isn't about bravery, Dangerfield. It's about winning." He shifted slightly, still feeling the aftereffects of Lauri's shocks. "Besides, Lojan's fine where he is. Not like he can die, anyway."

  "Doesn't mean he doesn't feel pain," Josh said coldly, stepping forward. "We're here to end this, Gilbert. You're not getting that ticket."

  Gilbert's eyes flicked to Josh's sword. "Cute blade, kid. But I think you're underestimating just how far I'm willing to go for this."

  "You won't get far," Lauri interrupted. "I used my powers to track you down. Every electronic device around here? I've got them wired to shock you every time you take a step."

  Gilbert laughed, the sound echoing eerily in the empty street. "Clever. Real clever." He paused, his expression shifting from amusement to something darker. "Just like I planned."

  Josh, Lauri, and William exchanged quick, uneasy glances. Gilbert's smile grew as he saw their momentary confusion. "What? Did you think I was just going to wait around, hoping someone would find me? I've been leading you here from the start."

  "Why?" William asked, his tone skeptical. "What's your game?"

  Gilbert's eyes gleamed with malice. "Simple. I wanted you all in one place." He rose slowly to his feet, his body still buzzing with residual shocks. "I've dealt with monkeys like you before. But today? Today, I'm going to kill all three of you and take that ticket."

  The words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, no one moved. Then, Lauri's device sparked again, sending another wave of electricity toward Gilbert. But this time, he was ready. He dodged to the side, his movements fluid and unnaturally quick.

  Gilbert's grin never wavered as he faced them, his fingers twitching with anticipation. "Let's see what you've got, kiddies. Come and try to stop me."

  And with that, the tension between them snapped, and the battle was about to begin.

  Gilbert Holcomb's twisted grin hadn't faded. The fight had only just begun, but the tension in the air was electric—literally, thanks to Lauri Cruise's powers. Sparks danced between her fingers as she stayed poised, ready to unleash another shock at a moment's notice. Josh and William stood flanking her, eyes locked on Gilbert, who continued to taunt them with every breath.

  "Come on," Gilbert sneered, rubbing his hands together as if warming up for a show. "I expected more from you circus clowns. Or are you just gonna keep throwing little zaps at me?"

  Lauri shot him a glare. "We'll do more than that. Josh, William, be ready!"

  Josh tightened his grip on his mystical sword, feeling the weight of his father's legacy in his hands. He didn't want to admit it, but his heart was racing. He'd faced a lot since the Power Lottery began, but Gilbert was something else—a predator in human skin, driven by a hunger for wealth and a hatred for anyone he deemed weaker.

  William Dangerfield rolled his shoulders, his metal gloves gleaming under the streetlights. "We gotta outsmart him," he muttered to Josh. "He's all about direct confrontation. Keep his eyes on me and hit him when he doesn't see it coming."

  Josh nodded, sweat beading on his forehead. "Got it."

  Gilbert didn't wait for them to finish strategizing. He charged forward, hands outstretched, aiming to turn whatever he touched into rubber. The ground cracked under his heavy steps, and with a swift motion, he sent a wild backhand toward Josh.

  Josh narrowly dodged, the wind of Gilbert's swing ruffling his hair. He stumbled back, trying to regain his footing. Lauri quickly raised her device and released another shockwave. Gilbert's body jerked, but he shook off the shock faster this time, grinning.

  "You think that's gonna work again?" he taunted, his eyes now locked on Lauri. "Think again, monkey."

  William saw his opening. With a flick of his wrists, the metal from his gloves extended outward like tendrils, forming sharp, metallic spikes. He thrust them at Gilbert, who sidestepped, but one of the spikes grazed his arm, slicing through his shirt and drawing blood.

  Gilbert's grin faded, his expression twisting into a snarl. "You wanna play dirty, huh?"

  "Wouldn't have it any other way," William shot back.

  Gilbert lunged toward William, hands reaching for the metal spikes to turn them flaccid. William retracted the metal just in time, but it left him momentarily off-balance. Gilbert seized the chance and slammed his palm against William's shoulder. Instantly, William's shoulder and upper arm went limp, the muscles unable to support themselves.

  "Damn it!" William growled, falling back. He shifted his focus, his metallic gloves morphing into a flat shield that he swung up between himself and Gilbert. The rubber effect started to spread to the shield, but it bought him a few crucial seconds.

  "Josh, now!" Lauri shouted.

  Josh sprinted forward, his mystical sword glowing bright with a faint blue aura. He hesitated for a split second—could he really do this? But he shoved the doubt aside. For Lojan. For Lauri. For everyone who had already fallen in this insane lottery.

  Gilbert's eyes darted to Josh, but before he could react, William sent a wave of metal shards hurtling toward Gilbert's face. Gilbert instinctively raised his hands to shield himself, leaving his chest exposed. It was all the distraction they needed.

  Josh lunged, thrusting his sword forward with all his might. The blade pierced Gilbert's chest, sliding in between his ribs. Gilbert's eyes widened in shock and then rage as blood spurted from his wound.

  Josh felt the impact reverberate up his arm, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze. His breath caught in his throat. The sword had struck true, but now he had to deal with the aftermath.

  Gilbert staggered back, a guttural growl escaping his lips. His hands twitched, desperately trying to grab onto something, anything. But there was nothing to hold onto. Blood seeped from his wound, staining his clothes a deep, dark red.

  "How... how did I get killed by a bunch of monkeys?" Gilbert wheezed, his voice filled with disbelief and hate. His eyes, once sharp and mocking, began to dull. "No... not like this... not..."

  He never finished his sentence. His body slumped to the ground, and he lay still, the life fading from his eyes.

  The street fell silent except for the labored breathing of the three who remained standing. Josh pulled his sword from Gilbert's body, the blade slick with blood. His hands trembled as he stared down at their fallen enemy, the weight of what he'd done settling in.

  Lauri moved to his side, resting a hand on his shoulder. "You did it, Josh," she said softly. "You saved us."

  Josh nodded numbly. He had saved them, but it didn't feel like a victory. William, still holding his shoulder, managed a small, grim smile. "Guess that's one more psycho down."

  Josh glanced at the others, then back to Gilbert's lifeless form. This fight was over, but the Power Lottery was far from finished. There were still challenges ahead, and the real test was only just beginning.

  To be continued...