Y’know, sometimes it’s the small things.
The metaphorical straw that broke the man’s back and brought his mind crashing down with it.
That’s it...
Just a thought.
—
Beauty’s a funny thing. It can stop you in your tracks, steal your breath, and make your balls clench.
Fear does that too.
Zephyra Belladrix: Lutantha.
Level 7
We stood frozen, facing each other in the dark, our boots balanced on the bones of a dead horde. The lithe figure of the Lutantha burned in my infravision.
She was as elegant and still as the ancient marble statues Seth had seen in Florence.
I held my breath, ready—knowing by now there was no reprieve in this place. My eyes tracked the slight rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. The only hint she was alive.
The fingers of her left hand twitched.
I exploded into action, summoning the champagne sabre—the same one I’d whisked through The Masticator’s skull. Shit weapon or not, it was the only one I had.
To my surprise, light like a miniature sun dazzled me. It was so bright my infravision short-circuited. The hilt burned in my hand, vibrating violently.
What the hell?!
What had she done?
A gasp. A choked exclamation. A crackle of shifting bone from where the Lutantha had stood.
I’d planned on holding my ground and defending her attack, but instinct had me leap away, blinking through the afterimage, holding the stubby, gold-tasselled blade between me and where I’d last seen her.
These Lutantha were smart. I’d seen them fight before—elegant, coordinated.
Her prey blinded, she’d go for the kill.
I landed with a crunch, alien bones snapping beneath my boots. I whipped my head around, squinting through the light, scanning for the inevitable attack.
The sabre was growing hotter by the second. My skin blistered. I could smell my flesh cooking. I nearly dropped it, but with a stroke of genius, I activated Soldertouch. I’d cooked that alien’s skull back on the jungle fringe—maybe it’d help here too.
It felt like dunking my hands in ice water. What a bloody relief.
The vibrations in the hilt rose in pitch until they were nearly imperceptible.
Pain faded.
Predator was good like that. It didn't let me feel the pain 'til the job was done.
I lowered my sabre, realising it was the source of the light.
And when my vision cleared, she was gone.
The field of corpses remained still.
Silent.
I breathed through my nose, every muscle wound tight.
Any moment now...
She’d attack.
Except—
She didn’t.
I stayed in a stupid half-crouch, sabre raised before me like a damn idiot.
The music of my Predator shifted—from a strange melodic riff I’d not heard before, to battle-ready screaming, then... circus clown?
“Eh, don’t be a dickhead,” I muttered at the hidden composer, straightening up as I heard a faint giggle.
My neck itched. Little hairs pricked. Mind racing. I hated being watched. Hated that waiting, twitchy silence.
But she’d had the chance to kill me while I was unconscious atop that boss—and hadn’t. Why?
A ping echoed in my HUD, making me flinch.
Wargame Vault: Stepped Tomb of Tlek'Vohr
Wing Cleared: 2 of 4
I checked my party interface. Ariel, Paddy, and Tyler had not only finished the wing we’d been running when I fell—they’d cleared the next one too.
Their HP bars were still active in my party interface. They’d taken damage, but were stable.
I felt the pull—strong, insistent. I needed to get back to them.
I was doing better now.
I knew Ariel wasn’t Elena, even if she had her eyes.
But still—that pull.
What to do?
Zephyra—if that was her name—was still down here somewhere. But now that the shock had passed, I wasn’t sure she meant me harm.
I was five levels above her, had a golden title, a unique class. Shit, I’d just killed a level thirty boss. If she had any sense, she’d be more scared of me than I was of her.
That meant breathing room.
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I looked around at the field of corpses, itching to loot them.
Then at the sabre burning in my fist.
Plasma curled up the edge like napalm flirting with God. It hurt to look at—so bright it lit the cavern like day.
Corpses, bones, even piles of stinking alien shit—lit in silhouette.
The pit looked like a cathedral now.
A cathedral built to worship a violent god.
Text blazed across my HUD in flaming gold:
Item Ascended: Sabre Fortunato Model V1.1 → Soul-Fused Thermal Refractor Blade “Brain Scrambler—The Masticator’s Bane” [LEGENDARY]
I stared down at the blade as its heat licked my skin—and for the first time in a while, I smiled.
“Not bad,” I muttered. “You were a piece of shit before. But now?”
I swung it once.
The air screamed.
A nearby corpse burst into flames.
I laughed. “Not bloody bad!”
Once I’d have left it at that. Moved on. But now I knew better.
I dug into the details. An info box bloomed.
Priorita trilled, reading the description aloud.
LEGENDARY WEAPON
SABRE FORTUNATO: Soul-Fused Thermal Refractor Blade “Brain-Scrambler—The Masticator’s Bane”
“Champagne, sir?”
I heard a faint *pop* followed by the bloodthirsty cheers of billions.
Ahh, Sabre Fortunato.
A glorified party trick that was originally shipped to contestant Allan Alberghini as a promotional gimmick—yes, really.
This has honestly never happened before! Apparently, the marketing execs at Sabre Fortunato paid the population to spend the planet’s precious Home-World Reward Points to send their product to Allan.
Their plan? That seeing their sabre waved on the WarWorld would inspire the intergalactic noblesse to decapitate bottles of Terran champagne, thus shifting Sabre Fortunato’s global corporation into an intergalactic one.
What a bunch of go-getters!
I mean, the idea is idiotic! But wow!
Somehow—against every probability—their move has paid off. After being lodged in the brain of The Masticator (Level 30, Elite, really stinky Secret Boss) and stewing in a cranial soup of soul-force, trauma, regret, and whatever eldritch business that thing had in its head, the sabre has ascended!
This is a bonus, extra special reward for solo-killing a boss that was meant to be challenged by an entire civilisation!
It now burns lithium-bright.
Makes the air scream when swung.
And is literally too hot to touch without an active heat suppression system.
Truly, it absolutely, unequivocally, should not exist.
But technically lithium exists at all technological levels…
So… it isn’t against the rules!
ABILITIES
Oh. My. This is juicy!
? Soulflare Slash (Active)
You like your violence widespread?
Me too.
Blasts a 45° arc of searing heat at short range.
Blinds affected enemies for 5 seconds.
Applies Thermal Corruption, reducing healing received by 50%.
Cooldown: 60 seconds.
Viewer discretion is advised.
? Masticator’s Echo (Passive)
Every time you hit an elite or boss-class enemy, the sabre remembers how it got here... and it takes that personally.
Each strike applies Chewed Up — increasing incoming damage by 3% per stack (Max: 10).
Yes, it's a trauma response. And yes, it stacks. Delicious right?!
? Champagne Detonation (Consumable – 1x per solar day)
Ever wanted to weaponise upper-class alcoholism? Use the sabre as originally intended to sabre a bottle of authentic French champagne.
The foam ignites into a plasma lance, dealing catastrophic damage in a straight line.
Destroys terrain, melts bosses, and triggers a faint “pop!” followed by the smell of burnt citrus and poor financial decisions.
Weapon is inert for 60 seconds post-use while it cools down and rethinks its life.
HIDDEN TRAIT: Prestige Remnant
Brand loyalty never dies.
If the weapon kills a target with one or more of the following:
- Net Worth > 5 million credits
- Follower count > 1 million
- Verified Corporate Profile
…The weapon gains a temporary +20% Ego Damage bonus and plays the Sabre Fortunato? corporate jingle for all to hear.
Because humiliation is an underrated damage type.
Warning: Weapon exceeds standard civilian tolerance thresholds. Use of Soldertouch mandatory. Use while intoxicated, emotionally unstable, or grieving may cause unpredictable results. Sabre Fortunato assumes no liability for accidental immolation, decapitation, or divine retribution. Contestant Allan we need to talk, things are happening up here that will affect you and your civilisation. Warranty void if used on anything aside from a champagne bottle. Batteries not included.
The final section came fast, in that unintelligible legalese voice used at the end of drug ads. I only caught every third word, but I was pretty sure there’d been something disturbing buried in there.
Was Priorita trying to send me a message?
I squinted at the sabre—just under a foot long, still glowing, tassel and all.
Terrifying.
Ridiculous
But kinda badass too.
The blade dimmed as I adjusted the output with a thought.
I had control now.
Hell yeah.
A prickle of stormsense gave me the moment’s warning I needed and I spun—The Scrambler flaring bright in my grip.
“That thing does not look safe.”
The Lutantha stood just a few feet away, squinting at the weapon.
I could close the distance, activate Soulflare Slash, execute her. Instead, I deactivated Predator and jumped back.
Gained space.
She'd raised her hands in what was apparently the universal sign of peace. But sure as shit, I wasn’t going to trust her.
I strained my stormsense. Listened hard.
Ariel had taught us this tactic—La Lame Fant?me. The phantom blade. One distracts, the other strikes from behind.
But I detected nothing.
Zephyra cocked her head, birdlike. Tall, graceful, blonde. Aside from pointed ears and slightly elongated canines, she looked... human.
That alone had evolutionary implications I wasn’t even gonna touch.
“Uh,” I cleared my throat, voice raw from the hot air. “It is.”
“So you will discard it?” She tilted her head the other way. Her almond-shaped eyes glowed green in the incandescent sword-light.
“Why would I do that?”
“Why wield pain when it bleeds you too?” Her gaze dropped to my hand.
My fist was red, swollen, oozing fluid where flesh had split before I activated Soldertouch.
Now that Predator was off, it throbbed like hell. I was tempted to reactivate it. But I needed clarity.
“A weapon’s meant to hurt. If I’m dishing it out, seems only fair I take a bit too.”
I wasn’t sure what game she was playing—what test I was passing or failing.
But she watched me.
Waiting.
Weighing.
I’d had girlfriends. My share of one-night stands too. But I’d never understood the game. The math of attraction.
A laugh at the bar. A kiss on the dance floor. Something more after. I never knew what I’d be getting.
Back in school, we’d chant: Boys are from Mars, girls are from Venus.
Turns out, that might’ve been more accurate than anyone thought.
Even girls from other planets were a mystery.
“How did you know I approached?” She asked.
I didn’t respond. No bloody way I was giving away my abilities.
Something shifted in her expression. I had no idea what it meant.
“I’m searching for my sister,” she said. “She fell.”
I remembered the Lutantha who’d plunged into the pit. I nodded.
“Did you fall too?”
She shook her head. Didn’t elaborate.
“It’s a long way down. If she fell... you’re not going to like what you find.”
“She lives.” The Lutantha spoke with the kind of absolute certainty only liars possess.
“There was a boss down here. A big one.”
“She lives.” She hissed, sharp canines biting the words. A crack in her perfect porcelain facade. For a moment, I saw fear, anger, frustration, hopelessness.
I knew those feelings.
She shook her head. Tapped her chest. Then her temple.
“I would feel if she rejoined the One.”
Sounded like superstitious hippie bullshit to me.
What the hell was I supposed to say?
I itched to be done with this. I had loot to grab. A team to rejoin. But there she stood, inspecting me like a horse she might buy.
“Yeah, so... good luck finding her, I guess. I need to get back to my team.” There was no way I was getting roped into her shit.
I glanced up at the slice of darkness far above.
Getting back up there was going to suck.
“It won’t work,” she said.
I raised an eyebrow.
“One-way portal.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
She didn’t answer. Just stared.
“Help me find my sister,” she said at last,
“and I will show you the way out.”