Malthus talked about my family.
My very dysfunctional, milk-offering, logic-allergic family.
Apparently, they were still alive.
Which, honestly, was the biggest plot twist since I learned Sexis' na wasn't censored by the literary gods.
He said he knew I'd co back soday, so he kept them alive.
Not out of rcy — no, that man's allergic to compassion — but because he wanted to watch the chaos unfold in 4K.
Then he dropped the emotional bomb.
He didn't want to talk about my family anymore.
He wanted to talk about his.
He spread his arms, chest glowing like a demonic LED light show, and unleashed a red circular wave.
It shot out like a ripple of divine Wi-Fi — except instead of connecting devices, it connected doom.
The crimson ring expanded, swallowing the sky, the continents, the atmosphere, probably even the hope left in the ozone layer.
And then—
It vanished.
Everyone waited.
Silence fell like a bad sequel.
Then—
Things happened.
I sensed sothing coming.
No, not sothing. Sothings.
I looked up, and the heavens themselves were… glitching.
Black streaks zipped through the clouds, descending from every direction like cosmic cockroaches that just discovered rent was free here.
At first, I thought it was so sort of energy beams.
But no — they were people.
Red-skinned, horned, and radiating "we don't believe in deodorant" energy.
Behind Malthus stood four of them who looked exactly like him.
Two were perfect copies — probably his brothers or clones or tax evasion aliases.
Then ca a female version of Malthus — sa horns, sa murderous aura, but with weaponized cleavage.
And finally, an old one. White horns, wrinkled face, eyes like the IRS — judgntal and eternal.
Four mini-bosses, all with that "we share the sa therapist" look.
But that wasn't the end.
Oh no.
Behind them stretched an ocean of red.
Malthus' army.
Billions.
Billions with a "B" like Backpain from counting them.
They covered the horizon, blotting out the sky, the mountains, and possibly the concept of optimism itself.
Each one ard, each one glaring, each one ready to commit HR violations on a planetary scale.
But not one of us flinched.
Not .
Not my allies.
Not even that one prisoner who still thinks pants are optional.
Because we didn't need numbers.
We had skill.
We had resolve.
We had Nano Bites — and we had a System with zero social awareness but infinite timing.
I turned to Stronges — my master, my teacher, the woman who could punch gravity for fun.
She didn't even need to speak. She already had the remote.
Click.
BOOM.
The ground trembled.
And from the horizon ca the stomping of titans.
The Nano Bites arrived — towering machines coated in black blood, each one looking like it just finished a therapy session that didn't work.
They'd been out cleaning the continent of stragglers, but now that Malthus' full army had shown up, it was ti to bring every ounce of tallic mayhem to the main stage.
The final war wasn't just beginning.
It was loading in Ultra HD.
I stared at Malthus.
"So… what now, Red Bitch?"
He smiled, his fangs glinting like dental malpractice.
He raised his hand — a red sword shimred into existence.
The blade oozed malice, arrogance, and maybe unpaid alimony.
"I wanted to kill you for a long ti, Human King," he growled. "I knew you weren't dead. When I heard about the prison break years ago, I knew it was you. So I didn't chase the escapees. Because I knew one day… you'd co to ."
I nodded like a man pretending to understand a TED Talk.
Then he turned his burning gaze toward Sexis and Erect.
"I killed you two before," he snarled, spitting onto the ground — a gesture of pure disgust and poor aim. "But so god must've revived you. You three were the reason my blood pressure never stabilized. You ruined my peace. You three are why I can't sleep. Every night, I hear your stupid jokes in my head."
He jabbed a finger toward . "You won't believe how long I've waited for this mont."
I shrugged. "Ah, so this is why you're monologuing. Trying to maximize screen ti, huh? Classic villain move."
Malthus froze, then laughed — that deep, echoing, slightly constipated kind of laugh.
"This is exactly why I hate you, Racis! You can't even take death seriously!"
I grinned. "And you still haven't learned that's my superpower."
He snarled. "I'll eat your heart!"
"Jokes on you," I said. "It's 70% caffeine and spite."
The crowd behind snorted — even Erect was barely holding in his laugh, and that man once giggled during his own funeral.
Malthus raised his blade, glowing hotter than an unpaid electricity bill.
"You don't stand a chance, Human King. You might've grown strong, but so have I."
I blinked. "You trained?"
"I trained harder," he said proudly. "I knew you'd co back, so I sharpened my blade, my body, my soul. I'm not the sa as before."
"Wow," I said. "You went from midlife crisis to gym bro. Character developnt."
He ignored and took a stance.
Fine.
So did I.
We both crouched low — predator and prey, but no one knew who was which yet.
Behind us, armies drew their weapons.
Behind him, billions howled like hell had just announced a sale.
Behind , thousands of aliens, prisoners, and robots stood shoulder to shoulder — a choir of chaos ready to sing violence.
And then—
The world held its breath.
The air twisted.
Reality flexed.
Malthus' red eyes t mine.
He trained, he said. Sharpened his body and soul. I bet he also bought one of those expensive protein powders that taste suspiciously like regret and probably downloaded a ditation app. I glanced back. Stronges looked like she was deciding whether to punch Malthus or just critique his posture.
Sexis and Erect were high-fiving. Yes, high-fiving. At the edge of the world's destruction. My people. Well, if I die, at least I get out of that monthly paynt for the ditation app Malthus definitely uses.
And in that infinite, silent heartbeat before the apocalypse—
We both moved.
The masturbation of chaos began.
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