MISTER STAMPY

  Hull: 100% | O? Pressure: 100% | Speed 666,666km/h

  We rocket through space, bringing destruction in our wake. Attaching the Thor Mark 4 lightning cannons to our kaiju’s wrists took all of 3 minutes with an IKEA-branded montage vid. Upon their final connection, spherical gunner’s turrets the size of minivans materialized behind the cannons like giant bugs’ eyes, bristling with smaller, defensive railguns. The boys wasted no time climbing inside the gun turrets, happy as kids on Christmas morning.

  I’m in the command bridge, Pepper’s at the helm, driving the ship like she’s Mario Anderetti. “Whee!”

  I magnify the viewer and see it at last.

  

  Darkforge Hex: Omicron Tier Battle Refinery

  Also known as the Anvil of the Void, Darkforge Hex was once the galaxy’s premier blacksite warworks, where star-iron was forged into the solar system’s deadliest ships. After the accident—the one where their dockyard briefly qualified as a second sun—Darkforge Hex survived as an illegal gravity refinery, a rusting monument to greed, violence, and very poor safety standards. So, you know… Space Pittsburgh.

  From here, it looks like a big red asteroid… after the Death Star blew off the bottom half. The refinery hangs off the ass of the rock like an orange hemorrhoid. Something fiery pulses inside, a hint at the power within. Hank’s voice comes over the comms from his gunner’s turret. “Doesn’t look like much.”

  “But those do.” I ping six objects on the console map: six starfighters, grouped and marked Defense CAP69. I take a closer look at one of the individual fighters.

  

  Doomfang lvl15 Gunship

  Quick, agile, and armed to the teeth, these deadly ramscoop interceptors are employed across the galaxy by militaries and criminal gangs alike to guard their precious treasures. Sleek enough to get you noticed, but not sexy enough to get you laid.

  “You wanted a fight, Matchstick.” I can’t help but grin. “You got one.”

  He grins back from his gun turret. “Fetch it ‘ere, mate.”

  Our kaiju streaks straight for the refinery. A Party Notification suddenly writes colorful graphics in space.

  

  New Quest! Hex Marks the Spot

  Dig Duggler & the Sub-Boys have found a vein of platinum deep in the heart of the asteroid and are processing it into priceless ingots in the Darkforge gravity refinery. Fight your way past the Doomfang Defenses if you can, breach the base, and take that booty for yourself before the RiftStorm devours it all!

  Difficulty: Veteran | Lvl10 Party

  Smelter Loot: 3000XP ea. | Exotic LootBox x5 | Quest Badge: DigDugDead

  “Level 10!” Pepper’s eyes go wide. “We’re only level 5! And Mickey isn’t even that!”

  “No guts, no glory.” We’re not going to lose. I feel more alive than I have since I was twenty. Hell, I feel like a kid again. “You boys ready?”

  Mick howls over the comms. “Roger codger, let’s go get some!”

  “Whoo!” screams Hank.

  “Let’s f#cking go.” I jam my fist down on the afterburner. Ramscoop drives blaze from every part of our kaiju as we rocket into the battlefield. Sunlight gleams off Mister Stampy’s sunglasses as I hit the music.

  

  ? Immigrant Song — Led Zeppelin (1970) ?

  Viking war cries, banshee wails, hammer-of-the-gods energy, this is kaiju battle music. Come get some.

  Doomfangs light up red neon and they turn to face us, power up their weapons, and move into attack formation. “Unidentified vessel!” I hear their hail over the comms, barely discernible beneath the screams of Led Zeppelin. “Vacate the area or you will be fired upon!” I flick the controls and shape Stampy’s body into a Superman formation, one fist forward. MatchstickMick rides that fist with a Norse god’s thunderbolt at his fingers. “Eat lightning, c§cknockers!”

  The Thor Mark IV Lightning Cannon lets rip with a blast of blue lightning that can be seen from another galaxy. Jagged light crackles across the blackness and hits a Doomfang like the Hill Valley Clock Tower in Back to the Future. Electric explosions strike as six more Zeusian thunderbolts smash it in rapid succession and the gunship is atomized in lightning. “Whoo!” Mick screams.

  He isn’t done. Changing targets, he blasts a second Doomfang out of the void before the first one finishes exploding. A third veers out of the way, but Matchstick lets fly with a machine-gun-fast blister of bolts a hundred feet long. He zeroes in and obliterates the thing. The remaining three move into attack formation and come at us shooting.

  “L plus Bozo!” Hank fires from his gun turret and nails the first Doomfang with an energy blast. The crackling electricity from the Thor Mark 4 arcs to another ship and vaporizes it too. “Cooked!” The sixth ship tries to escape, but both the boys turn their sights and it gets double-teamed by the twin Gods of Thunder. The Doomfang turns into an explosion that fills my entire viewscreen.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  

  VICTORY!

  Defense CAP69 Destroyed. Well you showed them who’s boss, boss!

  Murder Payday! 400XP ea. | 10K gold ea.

  Hollering the joy of combat, I jam the controls and Mister Stampy thrusts both fists into the air. The Godzilla roar, the real, genuine, one-and-only Godzilla roar, echoes through RiftBorn space in the world’s most recognizable scream of triumph. “SKREEEEEE-ONK!”

  “Oi oi oi, bruv, proper yes!” shouts Matchstick as Hank hollers and pounds his controls in elation. “That was GOAT, total GOAT!!”

  “Yay!” Pepper claps. “Mister Stampy is so loud!”

  “All right,” I grin. “Let’s go loot this joint.”

  

  CONTACT!

  Darkforge Defense Swarm Activated: CAP70, CAP71, CAP72…

  Twenty Doomfang ships spew from the broken asteroid’s crust like a cloud of hornets.

  “Oh you want some too!?” Matchstick turns his sights on them. “Let’s Morris, yobbos!”

  Lightning fire bursts from the Thor-cannons and we smoke half the fleet in seconds. A few get through, streak toward us, and release Photon Rockets.

  They slam into our chest and shoulders, but our armor plating takes most of the damage. I slam the FixitBots button I installed, and a hundred repair drones armed with patch kits are deployed inside the inflatable and go to work repairing the needle marks in the hull.

  Hank and Matchstick respond by blazing the Doomfangs with dozens of defensive railguns installed like quills around the Thor Mark 4 gun turrets. Rapid-fire lightning bolts thunder into the swarm, decimating the ships. A Doomfang crashes into the kaiju, bounces off the polyester and spins into another, blowing them both up.

  The swarm keeps coming. CAP79, CAP80, CAP81…

  

  CONTACT!

  Holy Alfredo lvl35 Cosmic Horror

  Cthulhu? More like Cthu-who-you? Holy Alfredo is a flying spaghetti monster made of creepypasta and living steel. This dark horror’s hull bristles with weapon batteries that burn brighter than dying suns. Every thrum of its engines carries the weight of annihilation, a Lovecraftian creature of destruction whose shadow blots out hope itself. ‘Bye Felicia!

  A two-hundred-foot space squid crawls over the edge of the broken asteroid and hurls itself at us.

  Mister Stampy’s auto-defenses take over. The kaiju moves of its own volition, readying itself to meet the battle. Hank unleashes the Thor Mark 4, which nails the grotesque thing dead center but doesn’t make a mark. The Cthulhu horror smashes straight into our kaiju’s chest and latches on.

  Tentacles the size of industrial smokestacks lash all around us. One wraps around Stampy’s left arm, the other around its neck. “I can’t get a shot!” yells Matchstick. “He’s got me!” Hank spins his cannon and blasts the thing with a lightning storm that stabs the space squid’s skin. Still, the spaghetti monster hangs on. It tightens its grip around Stampy’s neck and I hear a seam pop.

  

  Warning! Hull Integrity 71%↓

  The spaghetti monster is right outside the command bridge, I’m looking into its single house-sized eye. “Open wide!” I jam the button marked FIRE.

  Atomic Breath smashes into Alfredo, a never-ending torrent of crackling blue fire. I watch the shot go through its body. The one big eye goes wide and the flying spaghetti monster is shredded into flaming Cthulhu chunks.

  

  VICTORY!

  You killed Boss mob Holy Alfredo! His wife is going to be pissed!

  Murder Points! 1000XP ea. | 2K gold ea.

  Exotic LootBox (60 min to Open)

  Badge Unlocked!: Outta Your League

  You just suplexed a cosmic heavyweight with an inflatable pool toy. Punching that far out of your weight class earns a hearty high-five!

  RiftVid: “Squid Game” +?2500

  As the Cthulhu murder continues, there’s a blip beside me and Wahoo, our Eastern Time Zone Night Shifter out of Toledo, appears on deck. “‘Sup guys, my mom’s going to a PTA meeting, so I’m signing on a little early to WHAT THE F§CK?!”

  Spagetti Alfredo burns to death in the void as 50 Doomfangs swarm from the rusted asteroid straight for us. “Take the controls.” I slap Wahoo on the back. “You got this.”

  “What?!”

  “Hank, I’m borrowing your gun for a bit.” I snatch his plasma rifle off the race car bed and slap on my Hopper helmet. Pepper is right behind me, suiting up. Wahoo’s face is pure shock. “Wh… where are you going?”

  “Yeah,” Matchstick crackles over the comms. “Where are you going, mate?”

  “With you.”

  Matchstick’s comms crackle. “And…where am I goin’?”

  “It’s a stalemate.” I point at the gravity refinery. “We could blow that thing to ash with our Atomic Breath, but we wouldn’t get the treasure. But if we all jump ship, the Doomfangs will destroy Stampy.” I slap on my bunny helmet. “So. Teamwork. Wahoo and Rex keep the swarm busy while you, Pep, and I snag the loot. Suit up.”

  “Ready!” Pep fixes the tether between our space-belts, suited up and ready to rock. “Let’s do it, Dave!” We exit the bridge.

  “Wait, I’ll go with you!” Hank shouts as Matchstick Mick slams on a helmet. “I’m stronger than Pepper is.”

  “No.” Hank is safe here. With Stampy’s firepower, he and Wahoo can hold back the swarm for hours. I’m not taking an eight-year-old into any more danger. “We need Mick’s firepower, which means only you can fight off the Doomfangs.”

  “Yeah, okay. I got you Wahoo!” He starts blasting the ships while poor Wahoo yells, “What? What am I supposed to do!?”

  Matchstick arrives at my side. I tether his spacesuit to my belt. “Rex!” I point at a Doomfang headed in the right direction. “Nail that one.”

  “On it!” He blasts the Doomfang out of the void. It spins past us, headed for a crash-landing on the Darkforge. I fire Yeetlejuice, it Mag-Locks on the Doomfang, and Pepper, Mick, and I are suddenly yanked through the stars.

  “Yeeeet!” shouts Mick as we fly.

  Flames spew around us as the gunship goes into a death-spiral, and I release my line just before the Doomfang crashes into the asteroid. I pull the bathtub from my inventory and Boaty MacBoatface snaps closed around us. As we swoop for the Darkforge, the last image I see is Mister Stampy wreathed in lightning and fire, blasting with full arcade-shooter glory, destroying every enemy like a vengeful tyrant lizard king.

  “Yay, we’re winning!” Pepper chirps.

  The kaiju disappears from view as we plunge into the refinery’s glowing heart.