Onehand_Writer

This was great fun to write! I hope you'll all enjoy it :D My go-to way to write battle scenes is to put Metal Gear solid soundtrack on and bang the keyboard.

[Alpha Smack], a bastardization of [Alpha Slap] came at my face at superhuman speed.

Naturally, I made no move to dodge and received the punch with my [Jawline Guillotine] sharpened chin. Alphahole’s knuckles struck sparks. My muscles bulged as the force of the strike traveled through them and into the ground, which burst into a small crater. Though my bones trembled from the sheer force of his attack, I persisted, pressing my chin deeper into his knuckles.

I packed a gym-sized heap of Big Dick energy into another [Jawline Guillotine].

Fresh cuts appeared on his knuckles. Alphahole recoiled, his scowl scowlifying further. “Gah! “You little… you’re dead now.”

Alphahole though he may be, his original body was still that of a Gigachad. And the strongest part of a Gigachad’s body is their chin. I wiped his blood from my stubble and continued to grin.

Spectators of our fight gawked at how someone could so casually go against their oppressor, creating a surge in my Big Dick energy. The first round was mine, but my main goal remained stalling him until Riko and the others finished their sappy interview collage.

Any other plan would be sheer hubris.

The Alphahole was possessing the body of a man whose internal Chad cultivation was realms above mine. To match his superior energy conductivity, I would need several tens, if not hundreds of times the magnitude of Big Dick energy to whatever quantity of Asshole energy he managed to scrounge up…

Inside his home turf.

Surrounded by women he had swooned.

Alphahole growled, cracking his neck and knuckles with loud pops. “Did you glance at one of my women, huh? I’ll pluck your eyes out for that.”

Audible swooning traveled through the enslaved plantation workers. Asshole energy grew so thick you could almost see its dark blue outline around him.

“They are beautiful,” I admitted, “But the woman I love completes me already, so you can calm your insecurities and stop being afraid that I will cuck you.”

“Guh!” Alphahole clutched his chest and fell on one knee, his internals damaged by the sudden attack on his masculinity. “You lowly cretin…” He grit teeth as his eyes flicked to Nelly. “Is that her? The primal nature cultivator with brown hair? A pretty little morsel. I will take her. I will take them all and teach them the pleasures only a real man can teach, while the rest of my bitches watch.”

“Oof.” His words tore into my Big Dick energy gains like a week-long cheat day, causing a massive backlash. The only reason my organs didn’t turn into bloody mist was thanks to my heart inspiring the rest of them into a synchronized [That Almost Hurt] posture.

But he wasn’t done.

The Alphahole ripped the top of his cultivator robes off and proceeded to flex with a smug grin. He whistled sharply at my companions, and shouted in [Universal Alphahole Language] (which is best described as the inbred cousin variant of [Universal Alpha Language]), “Hey, girls check out my guns! Yeah! You want some daddy?”

His words heralded an invisible tsunami of Asshole energy. I stepped in front of it, reinforcing a protective Chad posture with Big Dick energy to remain upright. My body managed to block most of my companions from being influenced by his reality warping aura, and being brainwashed into his admirers.

Though I was certain that Nelly’s love could withstand such puny attacks, I could not let my guard down. Two alphas trying NTR at one another was riskier than betting your life savings on a game of Sm*sh Br*s. Blade of cuckold cut both ways. We could very easily end up in either or both of them with crippled cultivation.

“Are you alright? Did any of you hear him?” I shouted at my friends.

My friends shook their heads.

Karen didn’t. Her eyes glazed over with wistful longing as she stared at the twitching veins on Alphahole’s biceps. She fidgeted nervously, her eyelids fluttering as she sighed.

“Karen! Fight it! You can resist him! [Believe in me who believes in you who believes in me who believes in you who believes in me!]”

“Too late,” said Alphahole. “Your Big Dick energy may be considerable, but without a Chad Core you’re handling it like a virgin on his first night. Chad buffs that pathetic cannot overwrite the [Alphahole Charm]. KAREN, I threw you away because you’re ugly and far too piggish for my tastes, but I’m gonna give you a chance to crawl back and beg for my forgiveness. Swear to lose weight to become what I want you to be, and do as I say, and I’ll let you join my gold-collared women.”

Every sentence, every word, and every syllable within was laced with such potent Asshole energy that you could see it distort air like a candle’s flame.

I didn’t move fast enough.

She did her best to resist, screeching non-stop, “It’s all about you, isn’t it? How dare you speak to me in that manner?! Who do you think you are, the Emperor? Do you even know who I am???

But it was all in vain.

Karen, already weakened from his initial swooning assault, was hit point black by the [Alphahole Charm]. Her eyes glazed over. A shy, languid smile crept up on her lips.

“He is far too hot, Chad. I… I can’t, when he speaks to me like that with my old Armstrong Mansson’s face. I—”

“[Shut up, bitch. And do as I say],” rumbled Alphahole.

Karen shuddered. “Yes daddy.”

Only the endurance granted to me by Chadorgan stage held me from vomiting.

Nelly hurled her lunch into the strawberry patch. Behind her, Laura blinked in shock, gawking something to the effect of ‘How are we going to translate Xianxia now?’

“Um. Don’t worry, I recorded…”

Riko’s, and everyone else’s voices were drowned out by Alphahole’s, “Handle the Chad. I’m going to teach those women how a real man handles them.”

I moved before reality could reward his actions with a truck-load of Asshole energy. “Not so fast.” I clasped Alphahole's shoulder just as he was about to go over and ruin the interviews. “Afraid to fight me on your own?”

“OoooOOooo…” gasped the spectators.

One whispered to another, “He didn’t.”

“He did,” someone whispered back.

To which a third replied, “He’s done for.”

“Besides,” I continued, parrying Alphahole’s glare with a smile, “I have yet to repay you for the punch. I do hope you can take it like a ‘real man’.”

As my muscles began the motion, I dipped deep into Big Brain mode with 99.999% of my brain. Humidity, wind direction, the position of the stars, my breakfast, and even details so minute as the color of my underpants (they are gray) were added to a calculation of incredible complexity. The numbers it crunched went straight to my muscles, guiding my palm into an optimal angle, adding minute adjustment to the rest of my posture, and overclocking my nerves to pull out every scrap of strength from my right arm.

And as my arm moved, my organs worked in harmony, pantomiming the movements of my right arm to add their part into the overall motion. Big Dick energy resonated with our united will and I poured all of that Chadness coursing within me into that one singular intent that dominated the last 0.001 of my brain.

“Kindly, fuck off.”

[Alpha Slap]

Smack of palm on flesh echoed throughout the mosaic greenhouse.

People around us held their breath.

Red, steaming hot palm-print sizzled on Alphahole’s face. His neck was bent by ten degrees or so and his posture had grown wider, but he remained standing.

A cruel grin quirked his lips. “Man enough for you, boy?”

“Not bad for an old man,” I admitted.

“Karen, change in—”

I didn’t let him finish the command to sick Karen on my friends, and followed my first [Alpha Slap] with an aggressive [Chad Stride], bull-rushing the Alphahole. His shoes raked into earth as I pushed him forward and away from the others.

“So be it,” Alphahole spoke as if declaring a judgment. “[This Is My Domain].”

My stride ground to a halt. Alphahole seemed to grow several heads taller as his Dao technique warped my perception of him, turning him into a looming mountain with cold silver eyes glared at me. Behind them smoldered rage and ruthlessness equal to that of the darkest of alien stars.

“The air is [Mine],” Alphahole declared.

Breath fled my lungs and I failed to draw more.

“The ground is [Mine].”

My feet, despite the lingering leftover Big Dick energy from an interrupted [Chad Stride], felt stuck in mud. As if the ground beneath my slippers had turned to an unholy lovechild of glue and quicksand.

“The heat is [Mine].”

“The light is [Mine].”

“The gravity is [Mine].”

My world collapsed into an utter blackness dominated by a chill cold enough to burn skin off the flesh. My body floated gently off the ground.

“I am the Alpha of this domain. And there can be only one.”

I had the foresight to channel all of my leftover Big Dick energy into [Unlimited Abworks].

It wasn’t enough.

Knuckles and elbows and head-butts slammed into me with the force of freight trains, each a fraction of a second behind the other. In a matter of seconds, my back had smashed into and through seven separate walls.

Bruises grew inside my muscles. My organs fought valiantly, but damage went through their defensive postures.

[Impeccable—]

“No. [Cucker Punch].”

His strike landed hard, fast, and right on the targets.

That single hit broke my concentration. Every organ within me wailed in despair at the agony of their brother downstairs. His knuckles dug in, following through, as the man put his body-weight behind it.

The pain was indescribable.

I launched into the air, spinning. My skull smashed through stone on the way up, but I barely felt it. At the peak of the parabola, the cold subsided, my vision cleared, and gravity rewrapped its mitts around me. A sharp inhale filled my lungs with a thousand or so liters of fresh oxygen.

High winds howled around me. The star-shaped city had grown smaller than my palm. Clouds were closer than the ground below.

Fumbling, I felt between my legs. Everything was still there, thank the First. As long as I channeled some Big Dick energy down there, I would make a full recovery.

Gravity’s tug started to grow.

I began to contemplate my landing and the plan after.

[Leg Day Everyday] should be enough to mitigate most of the fall. The biggest hurdle was Alphahole’s [This Is My Domain], and his ability to pronounce things as his. Chad Cultivation had no direct equivalent to it, or the various aura abilities of Neckbeards, Karen, and other less self focused memetic cultivators. Our best weapon against it was relying on superior body-strength and Big Dick energy being inherently suited to battling overwhelming odds.

In that sense, it was excellent against the Alphahole.

Unfortunately, Asshole energy was easy to generate, and tailor-made for fighting against the underdog. Our energies’ advantages canceled each other out.

The greatest strengths of Alpha Cultivation would give me no advantage in this battle.

I would need something else.

Something that Alpha Cultivation had, but Alphaholeism didn’t.

As the dunes, beach, and the city grew closer, a grin slowly formed on my bloodied lips. This would be a test of pain and endurance, but I welcomed it eagerly, for in pain lie the greatest gains. Down below, Alphahole stood on the tallest flagpole of the tallest spire, his arms crossed over his scar-riddled chest.

When the light began to flee my vision again and gravity grew slack, I drew in a last inhale of air and plummeted into the darkness of Alphahole’s domain.

[Leg Day Everyday]

The hardened coral beneath me shattered. My joints groaned. Ligaments screamed. Fractures spiderwebbed across my bones. Before I had time to reset my bearings, Alphahole’s stench appeared right beside me.

[Alpha Smack]s pummeled my flesh. Knuckles tore gashes on my skin. I activated Alpha Cultivation defensive postures in rapid succession, while making Big Brain calculations to predict his next strike. More than once, I managed to goad him into striking my [Jawline Guillotine], by tipping my chin upwards to make it a more temptatious target. While he poured the energy into offensive techniques, I funneled the dregs of my Big Dick energy into protective postures.

Deafening congs rang out as our battle moved through the walls of a building drenched in incense—a temple of some kind. Hot steam hissed and water splashed when we broke through the walls of a bathhouse.

Alphahole pressed on his furious assault, rushing us through the buildings. He growled, spitting insults and insecurities to generate Asshole energy. “Pathetic, boy you are no true man! Can’t you even return a punch, unless I allow you to?”

“A boy is proud of what he can destroy. A man takes pride in what his endurance can defend.”

Big Dick energy surged into me from the most unlikely of sources, the Alphahole himself, or perhaps the man beneath the ghost.

His roar of anger contained the fury of a thunderstorm.

“The sounds are [Mine]!”

Heh. Can’t handle Chad wisdom?

My words were born silent at my lips and rewarded with a fist to the nose. It broke, as did the formation-reinforced coral wall behind my back.

I no longer heard where the strikes were coming from.

Hits began to land before I had time to activate Chad protective postures.

Floating in the icy silence of blackness and pain, all I heard were the cracks and crunches of bone and stone. One punch left my weightless body spinning sixty rounds a second. The next crashed my face through the ground. All I saw were flashes of brightness caused by impacts on my eyeballs. The only warmth I felt was that of my gushing blood, though it too froze into scarlet shards within seconds of bleeding out of my body. The only taste on my tongue was my own blood. But I still smelled the rancid stench of an Alphahole.

New fractures spread in my bones, new tears appeared in my muscles, and blood filled the cracks that appeared in between. My left kidney was stunned. My liver got a nasty gash across its abs. My left lung ruptured. The only reason my insides held together at all was thanks to a heroic speech my heart was giving the rest of them. But even his efforts could only do so much. Wars may be won on rousing speeches, battles rarely are.

With passage of time punctuated by punches, seconds feel eternal.

I first realized I’d lost my right arm, when I didn’t manage to move it to assume the [Impeccable Pecs] posture. No matter how hard I urged my will through the damaged nerves, the muscles simply refused to respond, as if they had turned to wood while the bones beneath became pudding.

Thus, the attack that landed squarely on my chest punched air out of my lungs.

I held on, adjusting [That Almost Hurt] to continue taking punishment.

My right leg gave out next, though its muscles felt less like wood and more like sacks filled with leaden ball bearings. The knee was completely busted, its consistency closer to breakfast slurry than orderly ligaments and cartilage. Standing on it sent new stars through my vision, and a strange flash of gold and dark blue almost too quick for my brain to spot.

I accepted the loss of a leg as a new challenge and took it as an opportunity to perfect [Unlimited Abworks]—my favorite protective posture.

The unlimited cobblestone abs upon my midriff popped like bubbles. His strikes destroyed five abs for every new ab my Abworks created. A surprise pause in the offensive was followed up by his fist piercing through my abdomen and landing a direct hit on several of my organs.

Something golden gushed out of my stomach, dissipating into thin-air like an exhale during a winter work-out.

I staggered, but held my Chadly posture. Lack of oxygen burned the surface of my remaining lung. My muscles demanded oxygen. My Big Brain mode stuttered and died, slowing my thoughts to a crawl.

The punches grew too fast to follow.

One moment I was assuming a new protective posture, the next I’d lost all feeling in my left leg and was flying in the air. Next thing I knew, I was lying in a crater, my back punctured by several shards of coral, one of which went all the way through my shoulder.

Wisps of gold flickered in my vision. Like veils of mist, they rose, briefly outlining silhouettes in the featureless dark. Like homesick bees, the little wisps raced to me, sinking into my body, and filling me with a familiar sensation. I wasn’t seeing things.

My cheeks still had enough energy to grin.

I was seeing it.

A deep blue figure of putrid musk appeared before me, a giant in the dark. Its lips moved and blue misty veils lifted off of the silhouettes who’d previously worn gold. The energy ran straight into the figure before me, wrapping his muscular arm in a whorl of deep blue tendrils.

My grin deepened to the point my cheeks hurt.

I was seeing them all.

All of the Dao energies.

His arm came down at my face, palm open in a rude mimicry of [Alpha Slap]. My grin could grow no wider. A silent chuckle left my lips. I [Alpha Slap]ped him right back, instantly dispersing his technique.

High five.

Silhouettes of spectators poofed with clouds of gold. Big Dick energy rushed to me.

What had once felt like a river being diverted with a paddle, now responded to my whim as if I’d finally learned to speak its language. I asked Big Dick energy to let me stand, and it said “No problem, bruh.” Golden energy flooded my legs. Signals jumped over snapped nerves. Broken bones chafed against each other. Muscles that were more bruise than tissue clenched.

The dark blue figure took a step back as I stood.

Wisps of gold left over from the act returned to my core and spun beside my heart. “Here, bruh?” it seemed to ask.

That spot is good, bruh.

Calm warmth radiated through me with each of its pulses. The concentrated speck of Big Dick energy flared to my Dao sense like a supernova. At once, all things Chad filled my being with a rush of emotions. I felt the determination of a guardsman prepared to oust a corrupt cultivator. I lived through the daily grind of a boy secretly laboring to achieve strength to take care of his mother. I learned the quiet conviction of a crippled elderly who persevered against his crumbling body each day to make a three kilometer hike to ensure that a sealed demon never escaped its prison.

Them and countless lives flashed through my soul as if I died and was reborn thousand times a second. Each held a collection of golden strings—glowing strands of Big Dick energy.

I’d misunderstood the secrets of the H*-Man figurine.

Big Dick energy wasn’t being generated by my actions.

It was always there, dormant within the souls of every man and woman and child. Sometimes in the form of a memory, sometimes in a dream, other times in a forgotten wish to act when one didn’t. The potential to be Chad was within every soul, slumbering, waiting for the moment the person carrying it needed that extra little nudge to come out on top.

All I or any other Alpha Cultivator ever did was remind people of that hidden strand. Remind them that they too could stand when their bodies screamed for them to fall. That they too could wade through their fears and face those who thought themselves above them. That they too could nurse bravery into a virtue capable of moving mountains and defying reality itself.

On the right side of my heart, the golden strings coalesced, weaving into a half-formed shape of a miniature Gigachad. Though he only had one limb and lacked half of his face, the tiny Chad-Core smiled brightly.

There was no need for questions between us.

I’d felt the Chadtastic truth click in place the moment my true battle with the Alphahole began. I’d felt it the moment I realized my advantage over him. All that had been left was proving with my actions that I truly believed it, and that I had done.

“Futile,” sounds returned to me momentarily, as the dark-blue behemoth before me spoke, “A Chad Core won’t save you.”

“I know.”

“I am still stronger,” he said, burying a fist deep in my guts.

“I know.”

“I am leagues more powerful.” A barrage of Alphahole techniques that I could not follow battered against my Big Dick energy fortified [Final Butt].

“I know.”

“And [This Is My Domain]!” He roared, spreading his arms wide. Great torrents of Asshole energy whirled past my vision, each misty string loaded with dark-blue moments of assholery, moments where the souls had been overcome with urges to hurt and damage and laugh. Face of the Ghost of Alphahole appeared in my Dao vision, slurping up the noodles of Asshole energy, bloating in size. It coursed inside the looming figure, outlining the familiar shapes of Chadorgans that had been bound by its dark-blue strings, as well as a cocooned Chad Core.

“And here I will suffer no Alpha pretenders.”

Air clapped when he burst into motion. Fingertips pressed against my chest, burrowing through flesh, reaching for the newly born Chad Core within me.

Only a last ditch [Impeccable Pecs] trapped his fingers within me and stopped him from gouging my Chad Core out along with my heart. “There is no such thing as too many Alphas,” I said, smiling as I heard the mic scratch amplified by speakers.

“Hi there. Hey hey, this is Riko, but you can’t understand me, can you… Right. So let’s jump straight into the interviews!”

A woman’s voice began to speak in Xianxia, moaning and complaining at something, or someone, through the speakers.

I heard Alphahole grit his teeth. “What… What is this?”

The woman concluded whatever it is she was saying. Voice of the gold-collared cultivator from before picked up, speaking calm answers to questions posed by Karen.

“No… She’s lying!” Alphahole shouted.

His Asshole energy flickered like a campfire in the wind. Light and shapes began to return into my vision. My lungs caught a brief gasp of air. Gravity welcomed me back and the cold subsided.

On the other side of the half-ruined city, projected onto a nine-storey tall white-wall of coral, played a video of mummy-wrap-covered Riko holding a microphone to a fidgety plantation worker with tears in her eyes. The recorded questions in Karen’s voice that Riko replayed with her phone were clearly difficult questions, based on how each of them seemed to drive a stake of grief deeper and deeper through the woman’s heart.

She was offered a tissue by Maxman and the video cut to the next person.

One by one, the women, and few men, sobbed their hearts out to the camera. Though I couldn’t understand them, I recognized Armstrong Mansson mentioned multiple times, always with words and expressions loaded full of regrets, hopeless longing, and suppressed resentment.

“No… No… I did it to protect you!” Alphahole shouted at the projected video. “Shut up. Shut up, you ungrateful bitch! It was for your own good! No. No, you don’t know better. A weak woman like you can’t make decisions like that, she can…”

His voice trailed off as the man quieted to listen to another gold-collared cultivator whose teary outpouring required her to use one tissue per second.

In my Dao vision, it was as if the Ghost of Alphahole had been caught in an avalanche. Words of ‘his women’ tore off large chunks of Asshole energy, whittling away at its rapidly dwindling reserves.

Ground shook as Alphahole collapsed on his knees. He clutched his head, shaking it in despair, but unable to flee the voices before him.

“I only it for your own good… I did it for your own good…” he mumbled, resisting the facts before him.

Karen appeared on the video, sniffling. Her own voice played out from Riko’s cellphone, asking a question.

Karen answered, “I want to believe that he’s still a good man underneath. That’s the only reason I still love him.”

“Karen?” Alphahole’s tear-painted face turned up. “Karen, is that truly you?”

Karen answered another recorded question, “Where do I begin? For starters, he only speaks to me when he wants something. He’s more disrespectful than a common customer support worker. He hits you when you disagree. He will imprison you if you try to flee. He punishes you for the slightest mistakes. He’s quicker to anger than even me, when I’m using Karen techniques. He just treats everyone like garbage.”

“No…” Alphahole struck the ground with his fists, grimacing. “I did it for you.”

A third question made Karen pause momentarily. When she replied it was with a hopeful smile of a woman thirty years younger than her. “I don’t know, but apologizing is a good start.”

The video cut and was followed up with yet another plantation worker’s interview.

Alphahole screamed, clutching his head. Asshole energy within him dwindled faster than a candle in a blizzard.

“I’m…” Alphahole’s words stuttered. “I… I’m… I’M SORRY!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, the words echoing throughout the star shaped city.

Ghost of Alphahole detached from the man’s back. Tendrils of Asshole energy that had clutched his internals fell apart. Beneath them was revealed a weak golden glow of a damaged Chad Core.

Armstrong Mansson, the Fifth head of the Gigachad sect, was on his knees on the ground, moaning in agony. “I wronged you. I wronged you all! I will be better. I will do better, I swear I will repay you all if it is the last thing I do in this life!”

I wobbled over and clasped his shoulder. Fifth’s silver eyes turned to me.

“Pleasure to meet you Armstrong Mansson, I’m Titan Maximus Chadman, the seventh Head of the Gigachad sect.”

He chuckled with disbelief and grabbed my arm. “Titan. Thank you. Thank you for banishing the Ghost. I cannot even begin to repay this debt in my lifetime.”

I shook my head. “No need, or did you forget? A Chad is never alone. Relying on your friends and bruhs is our Alpha way.”

He had an old man’s laugh. Armstrong wiped his raw eyes and accepted my hand to stand up. “It’s coming back to me now. The Ghost of Alphahole must’ve left holes in more than my cultivation.”

“You’ll recover,” I said, but grimaced at the state of his internals. My Dao vision showed a maimed and damaged Chad Core, who barely had the energy to smile, let alone hold his back straight. His Chadorgans were similarly ruined and simply lay in one big pile inside him, barely fulfilling the functions of regular organs, let alone their Chadly duties.

“No need to sugarcoat it, bruh. I know the state I am in, but so long as it’s enough to fix the damage I’ve caused, I will be content.”

I nodded.

And somehow, my nod caused an earthquake.

Echoes screamed. Loose rubble rolled through the destroyed road, crushing an empty merchant stand. World tilted one way, then the other.

Fifth cursed in Xianxia. “The little cretin went and possessed the Starfish the city is built on. Hold on bruh, this is my responsibility.”

That said, Fifth lost his step and fell on one knee while clutching his insides. Using the wall as support, he tried to stand, but failed time and again.

“Titan,” he said, “An old bruh needs to ask you a favor. Have you ever used the Big Dick energy transference technique?”

“Once. With the First.”

“With the First?” He chuckled merrily. “Well, ain’t that something. Alrighty. Then you know how this goes.”

He extended a hand.

I clasped it firmly and loosened as much Big Dick energy from my core as I could, directing it all to Fifth.

“I appreciate the thought, son. But, you got it wrong.”

Strangs of golden light unraveled from Fifth’s chest. His half-dead Chad Core unfolded, sending a breathtaking rush of Big Dick energy into mine. Memories of ancient Chadness flickered past my consciousness and fushed with my Chad Core, weaving onto him a set of limbs and completing his face until the little guy was a golden mirror image of me. Additional strands tightened around him, slowly adding to his bulk to grow him from the size of Nelly’s thumbnail to mine.

Fifth’s fading Chad Core nodded at mine. “Take care of your Chad, bruh.”

“I will, bruh,” my Chad Core replied.

And with that, the bearded guy of golden strands within my ancient senior bruh faded out of existence. Fifth collapsed onto the ground again, heaving as he struggled to breathe. Yet even that couldn’t stop the chuckles bubbling out of him.

“Go. [Just Do It]. [You’re The Boss!]”

His Chad buffs washed away my pain, gluing broken bones together with sheer power of encouragement and giving torn muscles an oomph of motivation to run that one extra mile.

Endorphins, adrenaline, testosterone, and overflowing Big Dick energy whipped up a mother of all cocktails in me, causing my Chadorgans to rise up and scream for action regardless of the damage they had taken. I tied a loose strip from a broken flag around my wounded guts and crunched the knuckles of my left hand back in place.

My attention turned to the dark-blue ghost deep beneath our feet. “Just wait, Alphahole. I’m ready for round two."

Onehand_Writer

Reading here, I realize you were
Just like me trying to read the fic.
But who's to review the five from four.
When discord is around I think we'll both agree.
That comments breed comments.
But in the end we have to join the Patron.