Swallowed in the darkness of space and a sun disappearing without warning, Walker did what his now long ago training had taught him.

  He got the lay of the land.

  The sun was missing. Poof! Gone.

  Everything he’d ever built, including the large amount of his mistakes from Romulus and Remus, were now a part of Symphony, including Dion and Jacoby, who just wanted to be left alone. The “land” of Symphony was now surrounded on all sides by giants, portal creatures, his gravity wells, and worst of all, Dolphins.

  Not to mention the mistakes he’d created on Cadence, the final planet in the Conservatory.

  And on top of all that, was the creme de la creme. Somewhere down there was the Slicer and the second dodgy entity that had somehow escaped his notice. Who knew what they would get up to while he dealt with a hundred other problems.

  And still, he believed, deep within himself, something worse was yet to come. The figurative, or potentially literal, bomb hadn’t yet dropped. It made a certain amount of sense.

  Aside from the sun disappearing, he was getting the same treatment as everyone else. Every Creator had just had all their landmasses combined and set up like his own. All of them had also had all of their “missing” entities translocated back to their combinatory planets.

  So what had the Alpha Protocol Council changed?

  Rather than wait for it to come, Walker quickly created three reflections, assigning each to a different task. One would inform him of any potential attacks coming his way. One would keep an eye on the area and inform him of anything unusual occurring in the distance. And lastly, one would be assigned to purely Eureka theory ideas. Oddball stuff that he wouldn’t be able to think about when he got too focused on the fight at hand. Each placed a hand on his person in case he needed to move out of space, when suddenly, a blinding bit of light peeked through the darkness.

  What had been the blackest of nights was now a thread of light breaking through.

  “The sun isn’t gone,” David3 said nonplussed as Walker squinted his eyes at the brightness, “Something’s blocking it.”

  “Maybe focus on the non-obvious stuff, David,” Walker commented as the light disappeared a second time.

  “Roger.”

  “No, your name is David.” One of the Davids commented with a laugh.

  “Shut u-” Walker was interrupted by the standard battle screen appearing. Rather than the usual blue, this one was covered in red as it took over his vision.

  Battle!

  Dante vs. Ra’jin

  - - -

  Rules:

  Stage: Galaxial.

  Entities allowed: All.

  Rounds: None.

  Battle Type: Survival.

  Evolution possible: Yes.

  Weapons allowed: Yes.

  Special Extenuating Circumstances (1/5): Due to the rank of the defending Creator, as well as the changes conducted by the Alpha Protocol Council, special extenuating circumstances have been extended.

  Special Extenuating Circumstances (2/5): Rather than face a standard fifth battle opponent, the defending Creator, known as Dante, will instead challenge a high ranking member of the Omega Protocol.

  Special Extenuating Circumstances (3/5): As the defending Creator does not have the ability to challenge the attacking entity using the betting system, rewards have been amplified in response.

  Special Extenuating Circumstances (4/5): As the defending Creator has received a challenge greater than usual, rewards have been adjusted.

  Special Extenuating Circumstances (5/5): Due to the abnormalcy of the forthcoming battle, the Omega Protocol entity will now be locked in stasis for thirty minutes to allow the defending Creator to prepare.

  …

  Stasis is now in place

  - - -

  Reward for the winning Creator only:

  A guaranteed position on the Alpha Protocol Council with the awarded title: Councilmember One.

  Protection for all Creator owned planets from Omega and Psi entities for a duration of no less than ten thousand years.

  A reasonable boon to request of the collective council immediately following the battle’s completion.

  Reward for the Winning Omega Protocol entity only:

  Placement within the top ten Omega Protocol rankings.

  Current rank: (13)

  Position guaranteed: (9)

  Reward for the losing Creator:

  Survival and placement back into their universe at the time of their removal.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Reward for the losing Omega Protocol entity:

  Reduction in rank below 50.

  - - -

  Time remaining until stasis removal…

  29 minutes and 59 seconds…

  Walker read it a second time. So not only were they throwing something considered impossible at him, but even if they won, he was going to get shuttled away from Symphony before he had a chance to clean up whatever mess they were left with after.

  There is no way any of the other Creators have to deal with this much bullshit.

  Ferrule: Ranked second in the 4AA Alpha Protocol

  A shiny field of gray made up the entirety of Ferrule’s planet. True to his people, the Re-builders, the Creator had gone the way of metal and mechanics for their attempt in the Alpha Protocol.

  Judging by his placement, he had made the right choice.

  Two recombinators were busy churning the supplied metal and broken parts back into usable entities. Grinding, cracking noises mostly overpowering the sound of gears churning throughout his half of the landscape. It was a truly beautiful sound to a creature such as himself.

  He’d once had three recombinators, but his opponent in this endeavor, a snarling humanoid built of green flesh and roped muscle, had aimed for quantity over quality. They’d sacrificed their numbers by the thousands to take down a single, smaller, machine on the far side. Never once suspecting it was a decoy. Luckily, the stupid and swarm-type opponents were the kind Ferrule excelled against.

  “Deliver the next ten Ferrum Legions to the fourth quadrant with instructions to shore up the flank. Target lower extremities to further slow down the horde.”

  “At once, Creator,” His executor said with a creaking bow before delivering his orders to the dropships.

  A large specimen began to cut through a series of pipe turrets in the center of the melee. Tapping into his abilities, Ferrule sent a wave of noxious gas toward the area, greatly slowing down any attempt they made to take over the area. The gas was insidious, draining excess potassium out of the body through their sweat glands. Soon enough, they’ll have trouble standing, let alone attacking his entities.

  Naturally, his entities were unharmed as they didn’t need to breathe nor did they technically have muscles.

  One of the recombinators finished its work as a hundred Ferrum Ironhounds exited, jaws clanking as they tested their teeth before diving into the rotating vehicle in front of them. As it flew through the sky, collector bots moved forward. Green, red, and gray bodies were unceremoniously thrown into a large fiery hole on the side of the machine. While the fleshy bodies didn’t help greatly, Ferrule’s machines could still strip some necessary resources from them. Everything had its uses.

  This would be over quickly.

  The next stop? Total assimilation of Rendition 4AA. The multiverse could use a rendition of pure metal.

  A’ia: Ranked third in the 4AA Alpha Protocol

  Three vines harder than diamonds snapped out of the ground, impaling the intruders from crotch to chest. They only had a second to scream before being dragged beneath a wriggling mass under the surface.

  A’ia smiled as she moved the monitor to another area. She’d already given the command, already planned her attack. Now, all she needed to do was sit back and wait for her enemies to come to her.

  Attacking a Woman of the Woods was never a bright idea. You had to burn them out if you wanted a chance to win. But, with her inclusion of a self-regulating water system running through every vine, that made it very, very hard to do.

  A group of humans with large metal weapons began to attack a knotted bundle of vines encroaching on her side of the battlefield. While it hurt her to watch it happen, there was always plenty more where they had come from. They were only a tiny part of a much larger mass.

  A’ia pressed her hands into the vines extending from where she’d sacrificed her legs for power. Lifting her high into the air, they angled her body so she could closely watch those who would stop her from succeeding.

  A moment passed, then another, before a vine burst out of the red clayed ground on their side, swiping them directly into the bundle that was busy changing shape in the moment. Spikes extended all across the area as her opponents were impaled yet again, then dragged deep below.

  This time they didn’t have a moment to cry out before they were taken to the bottom of her lovely pit. She felt joy rising from the bulb she’d spent cultivating during her time in the Alpha Protocol. Each drop of blood further helped her bulb evolve to the next stage of growth.

  Rather than fear the final battle, she’d welcomed it. As long as there was blood to be had, that is.

  Commanding her personal vines again, the Woman of the Woods dropped toward the ground, the way opening up naturally before her. Moving past several levels of protective and interconnected lines, she entered a special chamber with a special purpose.

  Three males were bound to the wall, squirming at her entrance. One had great bulbous eyes as he screamed at the top of his lungs. The vines moved her closer to smell him, before she expressed disgust and gestured toward the screaming figure.

  The vine binding him crossed over the entirety of his body, then pressed him flat against the wall, crushing him to red paste. It took his leaking body away as she moved next to another. This one smelled of rot and disease, and the wrinkles of his skin did not help his case. Another gesture and only one remained.

  Leaning close, she caught his scent and smiled.

  “Perfect. Hello, my little darling. How would you like to help me create many, many babies?”

  Blitzburg#4: Ranked twenty-first in the 4AA Alpha Protocol

  “Are you sure we can’t solve this amicably?” The Blitzburg said to her opponent through the monitor.

  “Umm, I don’t think they’ll let us do that.” The tentacled Furlopian said in return. “I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to, you know, attack each other.”

  “But why?”

  “I don’t know?” He said, rubbing three appendages against each other, “It’s just how the Alpha Protocol works. You’re a Blitzburg, you know that.”

  “You’re right, I know,” Blitzburg#4 muttered to herself, “But it doesn’t mean I have to like it. Wouldn’t things be better if-”

  “Look, lady, and that’s me assuming your gender there so if I’m wrong I apologize.” He took a quick breath through a vertical slit in his body, “There’s nothing I can do about any of this. The Alpha Protocol chose us to be Creators, and we’ve made it to the final battle. I know your people always get here, but this is a first for my species. I’d like to give it my all if that’s okay.”

  “But-”

  “No.” he said with a shake of the head, “I’m sorry, but my decision is final. This is the way it has to be.”

  Blitzburg#4 sighed, “I understand. Thank you for at least talking to me about it.”

  “Of course.” The number fifteen Creator in the Alpha Protocol raised a tentacle with a wave, “Good luck.”

  “To you as well.”

  Shutting off the monitor, Blitzburg#4 turned her head and looked at the two-hundred-foot golem she’d prepared in case her opponent didn’t listen to reason. Runic writing ran the length of its feet, legs, torso, arms, and hands. It’s transparent skull held a small floating wisp that focused all of its attention on it’s Creator.

  “You know what to do. Please try to make it fast. I don’t think the Furlopian deserves to be punished for trying their best.”

  The golem nodded its head, and with a friendly wave, teleported directly to the center of her opponent's base of operations. The battle was over in minutes as twenty more teleported to similar areas.

  While all the other Creators battled one another, Walker had already spent two minutes out of his thirty searching across the newly amalgamated landscape, sending private messages to those who hadn’t heard from him in fifty years. It hurt him a little to ignore the tall buildings, statues, and even large monsters now working with free-roaming sapients. But he persevered.

  Dante: Runner, go nuts.

  Dante: Zeus, I may have to ask a favor of you soon.

  Dante: Chipper, be the Guardian everyone needs.

  Dante: Lucy, I trust you.

  He paused as his eyes caught something.

  Who the fuck are-

  Walker stopped thinking and acted instead. Instantly, he created and stepped through a gate, only to find himself staring eye to eye with a seven-foot-tall man holding a pulsing staff. “You motherfucker!”

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