A few hours later John and Truffle arrived at the stadium after taking care of a few pesky koalas that had jumped out at them on the way.

  Standing on a bridge with glowing red and blue suspension wires which dipped and swirled like a roller coaster track, they took in the magnificent sight.

  The stadium was gargantuan, dwarfing the bridge they stood on and surrounded by untouched, well-maintained patches of grass and spotless, stained flooring.

  Looking completely out of place in a post-apocalyptic word, it was a glowing beacon of modern engineering and John thought it must have stood as a monument to the country’s passion for sport in the old world.

  Artistic tiling covered the outer walls with strips of wood and light fixtures creating a measured appearance. Staring at the stadium, it would be easy to forget that they were trapped in the apocalypse, with one small exception that is: the sign.

  Most of the lights were out and flickering. Where once it read Optus Stadium, all that remained were the letters P US I.

  “Boss,” Truffle asked innocently as they crossed the bridge, “why does it say pusi in big letters?”

  “If I had to guess,” he replied, resisting the urge to smirk, “it’s either the alien’s idea of a joke, or a challenge to anyone who doesn’t want to enter.”

  “Well that’s good then,” Truffle said cheerfully, “no one can call you a pussy today, an idiot maybe, a suicidal maniac at a push, but definitely not a pussy.”

  “Thanks for the support buddy,” John said dryly with a shake of the head.

  “Any time boss,” he replied happily.

  Once they got closer to the stadium John could see the entrance. A huge arrow had been placed on the floor, pointing towards it. Crudely drawn though it was, the chalk was fresh it couldn’t have been there more than a few hours.

  It’s too quiet, he thought. Surely a tournament would elicit some kind of noise. Yet all he could hear was the gurgling river behind him.

  He felt the pit of his stomach begin a slow churn as they stepped up to the gate: a revolving mesh of horizontal metal bars, not an easy exit in the event of an emergency.

  John was certain that the aliens had changed things about Perth, he’d barely seen any houses and there was no way that there weren’t any before the gates arrived. It would make sense, considering that he was also certain they’d somehow shrunk the entire country. This, however, cinched it for him.

  Without emergency exits, the stadium had numerous health code and fire safety violations. This place had been modified to keep people in, the Hotel California of sporting entertainment buildings.

  With a gulp and a steeled expression, he pushed through the revolving metal gate, reconfirming his commitment to survival at any cost. He needed more cards and he needed them fast. That was all there was to it. His wife’s dying words rang out in his head.

  You have to live John. You can beat this. You can survive!

  “Welcome,” an AI sounding voice piped up as they entered the stadium’s covered halls. “Would you like to sign up for the tournament?”

  “Alexa, play Charlotte’s Web,” Truffle said loudly.

  “That’s not an Alexa buddy,” John said, a smile tugging at his lips, “and when did you watch Charlotte’s Web?”

  “Mistress let me watch all kinds of movies, and the discovery channel, and Kerrang,” he replied as if it was normal for a dainty pig to listen to rock music. “Alexa play let the bodies hit the floor.”

  “I am sorry,” the AI hologram replied, “I do not know this command, would you like to sign up for the tournament?”

  The hologram was a blue, flickering woman wearing a body suit. She was doe eyed with long hair and voluptuous lips.

  “Yes,” John said confidently as he approached the AI.

  “Voice recognition accepted, thank you for your participation. The preliminary round will start,” the AI changed suddenly from a peaceful blue to a foreboding scarlet, noises like a nineties dial up rang out and her face contorted into a vicious smile, “IMMEDIATELY.”

  “Oh no,” John said, the knots in his stomach beginning to cramp up.

  A glowing purple light shone all around him and a feeling of weightlessness overcame him as the hallway disappeared.

  ***

  In the blink of an eye John was standing in the middle of a glass bottom stadium in space.

  Stars and the unmistakable visage of Earth rotated beneath his feet. Glowing boxes lit up the arena, set out sporadically around the pitch and each containing a contestant.

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  None looked as surprised as he was, in fact they all seemed perfectly calm. They were probably the execs; they’d have known exactly what was happening. Was he the only real human in the competition?

  A large crowd surrounded them, the cheering was deafening. Fireballs shot up in sequenced patterns around the outskirts of the playing field and John felt queasy.

  Welcome to the preliminary rounds of this season’s opening tournament: Conglomerate Calamity! The familiar and annoying voice of the jovial announcer rang out all around the stadium as it also reverberated in John’s head.

  He tried to move but his body seemed to be in some kind of stasis, then the announcer’s voice stopped and the world became quiet, the cheers of the crowd being replaced by silence.

  New Quest:

  Conglomerate Calamity

  Objective:

  Win or place in the tournament 0/1

  Survive 0/1

  Reward:

  Bronze – x100 shards

  Silver – x250 shards

  Gold – x500 shards and x1 card

  Bonus reward for surviving the tournament to be decided at a later time

  Time unfroze after John read through the quest, it was a little more complex than those he’d previously completed having multiple reward tiers and a reward just for surviving.

  Does that mean I can survive even if I don’t win? He wondered for a moment before the overwhelming noise of the crowd and the booming announcer continued.

  Today, folks, our competitors will fight for a chance to win a shiny new card. Who knows what kind of weird and wonderful power waits inside. But before we get to that, a word from our sponsor.

  Before John’s eyes, and taking up most of the playing field, was a giant hologram of a billboard-style sign which read: Isobel’s Indentures. An advert rang out across the stadium in a female voice that was a facsimile of that stereotypical infomercial voice over he’d heard plenty of times before on TV. thankfully it was entirely extrinsic. He didn’t like the idea of adverts streaming directly into his mind, though it surprised him that the system didn’t just do it anyway.

  “Are you crippled with debt and tired of owing money to the big businesses in the sky? So was I, that’s why I created Isobel’s Indentures. With Isobel’s Indentures you can sell yourself into slavery to get rid of those pesky debt collectors and restart your life as a free lifeform. So why wait? Call Isobel’s Indentures today and take back control of your life.”

  What. The. Fuck. John thought, his face drooping as he looked at the hologram in disbelief.

  Alrighty folks, are you ready for the preliminary rounds of Conglomerate Calamity?

  A resounding cheer rang out from all around the stadium’s stands and John’s disbelief faded as he readied himself for the start of the match.

  This first round is a simple free for all. All competitors will be on the field for this and it won’t stop until only eight remain. In true free for all spirit, there are no rules! Competitors can kill, maim and violate corpses to their heart’s content, though no style points will be awarded in this tournament, the season has only just begun, after all. Watch your backs out there, and… say it with me now, CULL THE MASSES!

  The audience joined in with their weird catch phrase and suddenly John regained the ability to move his limbs. Without delay he drew his revolvers and fired a bullet into the closest avatar.

  The man was built like Arnie and wore combat trousers, military boots and nothing but a bandolier over his torso. He was bald, but it was his eyes that gave him away.

  His iris was like a nebula, the pupil a silver sun. No human had eyes like that, it was a dead giveaway.

  John’s bullet impacted the avatar’s temple and his lit, stubby cigar exited his mouth as his eyes opened wide with surprise.

  The round exited the other side of his head bringing not brain matter and gore with it, but instead a thick black substance that reeked of petroleum.

  Do these avatars run on gas? John wondered as the leak pooled around the muscular man’s feet, an oil spill similar to that caused by a broken car.

  WHOOSH.

  John threw himself to the floor as the lifeless avatar landed on top of him, trapping him beneath it. A huge fireball whizzed past the area where his head had been just moments ago and he looked up to see it crash into an invisible barrier which separated the contestants from the crowd.

  The barrier wobbled, spilling outwards from the epicentre like a vast, open lake in the midst of a summer rainstorm. The flames dissipated and John craned his neck to look for the source.

  Standing at the opposite side of the field was a beautiful blonde woman with fire on her fingertips and a cheeky smile, waving her fingers at him playfully before blowing him a kiss.

  “Joanna,” he hissed under his breath.

  Seeing her gave him a newfound strength, induced by violent rage, as he pushed against the floor with all of his strength, dislodging the avatar he had killed.

  Skill Unlocked:

  Potent Rage

  Pushing the notification to the side, he resummoned his guns and raised both of them in her direction. He fired off shot after shot, hitting a few of the other competitors in the process, not that any of the avatars noticed as they were all in the middle of their own battles.

  Giggling, blasts, screams and yelling emanated across the field as avatars battled to the death gleefully. However, the tournament was anything but gleeful for John.

  He had just been given a golden opportunity to complete all the necessary requirements to progress to the next round of Battle Royale Earth in one fell swoop.

  Joanna dashed around the far side of the field flinging fireballs into the fray as the avatars enjoyed themselves.

  A woman screamed as her polyester pantsuit caught fire and her body melted into to a steel frame resembling a human skeleton, and a pool of oil which promptly caught fire. The fact that the execs could feel all of the pain without actually dying wasn’t lost on John. You’d have to be a straight up masochist to voluntarily take part.

  Or a genocidal scumbag.

  Groups of fighting avatars dived out of the way as she launched fireballs at John and missed spectacularly.

  “When the hell did she get that power!” He yelled in frustration as he ran Matrix style to the side, firing his dual wield pistols furiously.

  He remembered her other power; it was a minor levitation skill. How was it fair that she’d also managed to get her hands on fireball. Everyone knew that was the most OP area of attack power you could get. He’d played DnD on active duty, fireball was unquestionably, the shit.

  “Will you two pack it in!” An old, bearded avatar yelled, “your flirting is getting in the way of our fights!”

  Ignoring his cries, the two continued to flit around the outskirts of the stadium, using their long-range skills to bombard each other.

  “That’s it!” The man shouted, “everyone stop fighting, we’ve got some annoying little ants to squash.”

  The field went suddenly quiet as the avatars all turned to watch the oblivious John and Joanna as they fired at each other. She was laughing joyfully, whilst on his face was pure, cold concentration.

  “What?” Joanna said, realising the fighting had stopped, “isn’t this what we’re supposed to do?”