E-T-A.

She did it! Eta had finally rearranged the yellow streaks into something meaningful.

Unfortunately, her little savage visitor bolted upright at that same moment, sending the streaks into a tizzy and erasing her hard work. Just as she was about to scold him, an explosion erupted.

Kaboom!

Smoke engulfed the cave and debris peppered her face, but that wasn’t what drew her attention.

Right then, her little savage did something very, uh, odd. It was so odd it took her breath away.

The yellow streaks coagulated and air in front of him peeled back. It looked like he just reached up and tore a page out of thin air. Yes, exactly like ripping a piece of paper.

What appeared in that tear, might as well have been a crude window floating in front of her. Smoke billowed around the edges of the window frame, but Eta ignored it, transfixed on what was inside. The spot he peeled back revealed a very familiar town.

And what she saw there was a fucking apocalypse.

The town was destroyed. Nearly every building had the front ripped right off it. It looked like someone had taken a giant saw and ripped it straight through. Snapped boards, broken signposts, and even a kitchen sink riddled the cobbled roadway.

Something is very wrong here.

Another explosion rattled the cave. Shouldn’t my ears be ringing? Should I even ask?

Eta decided to ignore the explosions. She recognized the town floating in front of her; she’d lived there all her life.

However, the scraggly tower was new. And that well…

It sat right in the middle of town, just like a big fat pimple. The tower couldn’t hold a candle to the carnage in front of the well. She saw the back of her own grayed perm, poking up from the seatback of a wheeled kitchen chair.

Her familiar body sat staring at the well, a slumped posture, dead as dead could be.

A giant obsidian rock splayed her apart at the waist. If it was any bigger, she might have been cleaved right in two.

…and then she saw Scrub-bucket.

He hung by the neck, completely still. The roof of the well hovered him above the hole below.

He had no arms nor legs. Eta’s afghan draped behind him, a cape. And what remained of his body slowly dripped blood into the abyss below.

“Scrub-bucket,” she whispered.

Everyone quit visiting me, everyone except Scrub-bucket. He tried so hard to brighten my day…he really did…

Eta chuckled and Scrub-bucket’s voice echoed in her head.

  ‘This is Cap’n Jack, coming to you dead as dead can be from Oenusville on this crystal clear Tuesday. Now for the   weather: It's good. Now for the news: It's the fucking apocalypse!

  'Now, I heard from a little bird we have our first holler of the day.

  ‘Ehem…I heard from a little bird we have our first holler of the day.’

“Yellow,” Eta said from the smoky cave. “I’m really excited to finally get through. What the fuck is going on? No…scratch that. I want to hear that hit single Scrub-bucket was telling me about the other day.”

  ‘Oh? I just happened to not have talked to Scrub-bucket yesterday on account of him being dead as dead can be.   But don’t you worry about that, my little muse. Just listen to this. It’s one of my favorites by the one-hit wonderboys,   Wonderboys. Ehem…la la la la. Doe pay me fossils alotta doe.'

Eta hummed along with the happy tune. She knew it by heart. Such a happy song!

  ‘Baby, baby, Dead baby,
  ‘You’re really really dumb, but…
  ‘I got my own skanky notion:
  ‘All chopped up,
  ‘Throw’d the pieces in the ocean!
  ‘Arr har har.’

*****************

The Loogman formerly known as Oenus was worried.

Those two intruders had some kind of contraption that shot concentrated explosions, even Prometheus didn’t have a contraption like that in his book. The first explosion smashed into the wall next to Eta’s head. Fortunately, the attacking duo were scared shitless, giving Loogman a bit of time to act.

‘Best hop to it, stumpy!’

‘Yeah…Eta’s not gonna be any help, huh?’

‘Might be if you’d quit hiding shit.’

‘Wouldn’t that be worse?’

‘Absolutely! But it’d be fun to see.’

Loogman shook off his self-conversation, lamenting how he’d nearly dropped that habit, all that progress…wasted.

‘When did you drop this habit?’

‘No backtrack!’

‘And no Eta for you, bugaboo, you lying piece of shit.’

The attacker was jamming a rod into his explosion machine. Loogman knew round two wouldn’t be too far away. He bolted his torso upright. All that flailing knocked his bone leg crooked, but he did what he could.

Loogman still had his gift, that gave him a slight advantage over the average bunsack. However, it wasn’t much. Most creatures here had already pledged themselves to a god, and with that, they’d received their god’s blessing.

And the pair in front of him were not your everyday bunsack.

He clawed into the air and tore down the border of Dragon’s territory, reaching deep to reveal a portal into his own world.

Best he could do was shield his savior by sending the explosions through the portal.

‘You could hop to it!’

‘I could…fuck, I need my pointy stick!’

Loogman swallowed hard. Behind him, Eta was self-conversing and humming a very catchy tune.

He needed her to adjust to this world; hopefully, without having to tell her how she got here.

‘Don’t you want her to know? Think of the recognition! Superman would do it!’

‘…um, maybe the zip-line was a bit much. I thought she’d get it! She should have gotten it!’

‘Introducing her to Miss Death…bold.’

‘It worked for me didn’t it? It’s a game! It should be fun! As soon as she sees how much fun it is, she won’t care   about the town and the…uh…’

‘Genocide?’

‘Yeah! That.’

Loogman shielded Eta, chatting with himself for comfort. Likely the explosions wouldn’t hurt her, fat as her skinny body was, but it felt good to help out. They’d celebrated Christmas together, after all. That wasn’t a holiday you could celebrate often.

Nope, gotta protect my savior.

********************

Jimmy was worthless! The cave filled in a haze of spent black powder.

His brother fired shot after shot, but Jimmy couldn’t draw his Valreaper’s sword. That demoness…

  'Level: ??'

He didn’t stand a chance up close. Hell, even his brother didn’t stand a chance anymore. Timmy missed his first shot. It went a bit high, but considering his shaky arms, it was a miracle he could get a shot off at all.

That hostage, he was counting on them!

Keep praying, little buddy. We’ll be lucky just to save ourselves, let alone you.

However, Jimmy saw hope in that hostage’s eyes. Right after the first shot, the kid’s dead eyes sprang to life. He bolted upright, practically begging to be saved.

Unfortunately, it seemed the demoness wouldn’t allow that to happen.

Every subsequent shot disappeared into the thin air right in front of them. Her waving hands and eerily melodic incantations must have erected some kind of invisible barrier, shielding her from subsequent attacks.

However…

If she had the need to shield herself, it meant she was threatened by Timmy’s shots. If we could just break through that barrier…

Hold on, boy, we’re doing our best!

Thundering footsteps echoed down the hall, snapping Jimmy from his delusions of grandeur. The Demon Lord…he was coming.

Fuck! Of course…fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m an idiot. A worthless idiot.

The shots were too loud. The Demon Lord heard, and now he's coming.

I’m not suited for this…Valrere was too easy…way too easy.

New plan: abandon the boy and get the fuck out of here with Timmy. At least the demoness hasn’t attacked yet…she’s probably worried about the threat Timmy’s musket poses. One stroke of good fortune! Hooray for OP firearms!

With Timmy’s advanced ‘rifleman’ stats, it only took him a few seconds to reload. His arms were a blur. With expert precision, he dumped the powder down the barrel and, using some fancy sleight of hand, crammed the wadding and the ball immediately after.

They could keep the demoness suppressed, but that wouldn’t get them out of this jam.

Taking advantage of the quick lull after his latest shot, Jimmy shouted his plan. “Fill that fucker with powder! Forget the bullet, just fill the barrel with powder!”

The demoness won’t know what that means…right? Guns aren’t a thing in this world. We invented them…right?

Jimmy shook his head. No choice. Even if she understands, it’s more important to escape this den of hell. After that…nope…worry about that after you and Timmy escape.

Not questioning his brother in the slightest, Timmy filled the barrel of his musket with powder, jamming the wadding in behind it with no ball to follow. Now, crammed with gunpowder damn near to the tip, Jimmy could only pray Ronwald’s god-tier smithing would hold. He’d laced the barrel with a mythril alloy…it should be strong enough, right? No, it has to be strong enough to withstand the blast.

If not, at least we’ll die quickly. I’d rather explode into bits than see Timmy tortured like that poor boy in the demoness’ grasp.

The thundering steps loomed closer and Jimmy held up his arm, a signal to cease fire. With a pop, he opened Goti’s umbrella in front of them and he snatched his brother to hunker down behind the OP stealth item.

Carefully, they retreated to the far corner of the cavern, as far away from both the entrance and the demoness as possible, keeping both in his line of sight.

The Demon Lord’s lumbering steps rattled the cavern, but Jimmy grit his teeth, moving as slowly as he could. The effectiveness of stealth was directly correlated to movement speed. It had been like that in the game and worked on the same principle in this world.

Slowly, with his free hand, he drew the Valreaper’s sword, cursing his cowardice for not drawing it sooner.

When the Demon Lord appeared, they had one chance to distract him. Timmy’s gun was no longer loaded for war; it was loaded for retreat.

They’d attempted the ninja camouflage technique before to mixed successes; however, those were experiments. Never had they been in enough danger to truly need it. And never had Timmy loaded so much powder into his weapon all at once.

It was a huge gamble.

Smokescreens aren’t supposed to be dangerous…but this one…

Alright, that settles it. This will be the Smoke Screen of Apocalypse Retreat. And if it doesn’t work, we’ll die.

And if we don’t die in the explosion—

Jimmy tightened his grip on the Valreaper Sword.

If we don’t die in the explosion, I know I’m at least capable of stalling the Demon Lord long enough for Timmy to escape.

I just know it…I think.

The lumbering steps closed in. The vibrations rattled Jimmy’s teeth.

Outside, from the long corridor of the cave, an enormous black, bristly hand gripped the entrance of the cavern.

The body soon followed, hunched over to fit inside the door.

Goti’s Umbrella shook in Jimmy’s hand.

The Demon Lord’s head ducked down and entered. Jimmy froze, even his shaking hands froze still.

It was the same face his brother must have seen out in the desert, the one that came out of nowhere, chasing them into this death trap of a dungeon.

  ‘Level: ????’

For a brief second, the Demon Lord looked around the room. Jimmy regained a trace of hope that his Stealth was holding.

Then, it all came crashing down.

The Demon Lord turned towards the far corner of the room and looked right them.

That face inspired more fear than the hulking body supporting it. Plastered over the spot where a face should have been, the Demon Lord wore an off-color skin mask. It looked like a cross between Jason Voorhees and Bozo the Clown.

Big red lips curled into a smile right below a nose too small. Human ears stuck straight out of a bald, black head. And the worst, the worst part was the eyes. Deep black marbles reflected the dim vine lighting, the same eyes as the demoness.

Demon Lord Voorhees the Clown took two steps towards Jimmy and paused.

His brows knit in question.

And then he reached down and…

Scratched his junk?

That’s just not right.

Demon Lord Voorhees scratched the spot his junk should have been and whipped his head around to look at the demoness.

Somehow, the smile on his face widened, though it might have been an illusion. He jumped up and down, rattling bits of debris from the ceiling.

It rained dust, and in that rain, the Demon Lord disappeared from sight.

Jimmy felt hot breath on his shoulder. Slowly, he turned to look.

A clown was smiling there, close enough to kiss.

“H—h—h—hi,” Jimmy stammered.

He didn’t get a reply. Instead, the smiling nightmare reached across and grabbed Timmy’s left arm.

And Jimmy did…absolutely nothing.

Timmy’s arm snapped the wrong direction and the musket flew across the room. His brother didn’t even scream, that brave man.

The Demon Lord pried open Timmy’s palm and wiggled a finger. With a gut-wrenching ‘slurch’, he ripped the ring finger straight off. And then, his brother screamed.

Jimmy’s jaw gaped like a fish out water while the Demon Lord spun around, lumbered over to the demoness. He propped down on one knee, presenting her Timmy’s ring finger as though he held a prized trophy.

“Ah,” the hostage boy said as he hopped himself up on his remaining leg.

Teetering for balance, the hostage boy plucked Timmy’s ring finger from the Dragon Lord’s outstretched hand, apparently accepting the bizarre marriage proposal.

The boy licked Timmy’s finger, smiled, and tossed it over his shoulder to the demoness. “You can have it.”

It bounced off the top of her head and fell into her lap. She picked it up, studied it for a second, and nodded blankly.

Seeing that, the Demon Lord jumped so high, his head damn near smashed into the ceiling. Shrieking with…joy?…he whipped around and scrambled out of the room, pouncing clumsily out of sight like some kind of overjoyed puppy dog.

The Demon Lord’s thunderous steps trailed off and the cavern was left with only the demoness and her three hostages.

Suddenly, a mud ball flew across the room, smacking Jimmy in the face.

“Put that on,” the boy said. “It’s good stuff, really good.”

His brother whimpered next to him and Jimmy could only peel the mud off his face.

“I said put it on, stupid!” The boy cried.

Completely perplexed and clumsy with fear, Jimmy plopped the mud ball on top his head, a messy hat.

“No! No! No!,” the boy yelled. “Ugh, you know what? Forget it.”

The boy counted his fingers while mumbling numbers out loud. After coming to some kind of conclusion, the boy grinned and held up three.

“Alright! I’ll give you this much a head start,” he said, indicating to the sign he was making.

Jimmy hadn’t a clue.

The boy hopped closer, waving that sign around. “Come on. Up, up, up.”

He motioned to the entrance. “Come on. Hurry up and run, stupid.”

Then he beamed and leaned in closer. ”I’m coming to get you.”