The cavern shook with every roar, waves of heat and foul air pouring from the beast's mouth. Firelight from cracks in the earth cast twisting shadows across the stone walls.
PixelKnight stood firm. His silver armor, marked by old battles, glimmered faintly in the dark. A torn crimson cloak hung behind him, and in his hands, his rune-carved blade gave off a low hum, sparks flickering along its edge.
Facing him stood Kraggoth the Devourer. The ogre's massive body looked as if it had been carved from the mountain itself, his tusks glistening in the firelight. He gripped a huge slab of stone shaped into a hammer, and every swing split the ground and sent dust raining down.
PixelKnight tightened his grip.
"Not this time," he whispered.
Kraggoth lunged, his hammer crashing down and shaking the cavern, missing PixelKnight by an inch. The floor quaked. PixelKnight rolled aside and struck back, his blade carving a burning line across the ogre's side. Kraggoth roared, yellow eyes blazing, and swung again with wild force.
Steel slammed against stone, the sound echoing through the mountain. Sparks burst, dust filled the air. PixelKnight dropped to one knee, his sword shuddering under the ogre's crushing power.
And then, faintly, a red shimmer flickered at the edge of his vision. A bar of light, thinning with every blow. His life.
PixelKnight's breath hitched. He steadied himself, dodged, and struck again. A faint blue glow flickered beneath the bar, filling little by little with every swing, every step, every second he stayed alive.
The ogre roared, raising his hammer high. Stone shattered as it slammed down. PixelKnight barely rolled clear, his armor dented from the blast. His red bar thinned to almost nothing. His hands trembled, but he didn't back down.
Through the haze, he caught something else. A trace of voices, distant and echoing in his mind. "You can do this!" "Don't give up, Knight!" They slipped past like fading whispers, gone as quickly as they came.
PixelKnight blinked, shaking it off, and fixed his eyes back on the beast.
Kraggoth charged again, swinging wide. PixelKnight ducked under the blow, rolling between the ogre's legs and slicing at the tendons of his knees. The monster stumbled, roaring in fury. The blue gauge pulsed brighter. Almost full.
PixelKnight pushed himself up, bruised and barely holding on. His sword shook in his hands, runes flickering to life. He planted his feet. Kraggoth roared and raised his hammer for the final blow.
For a moment, the cavern went silent. Then the blue bar burst, filling his sight with light as strength rushed through his arms.
PixelKnight's voice rose in defiance.
"This ends now!"
He jumped, sword blazing, and struck with all his strength. A surge of light ripped through the cavern, shattering stone and engulfing Kraggoth in its glow.
The ogre roared as his body crumbled into shadow and then into dust. Silence fell over the cavern.
Then,
"LET'S GOOOO!!!"
PixelKnight staggered, blinking. The cavern wavered, breaking apart into flickering screens and shifting panels of light. His blade dissolved into nothing, his armor fading away piece by piece.
Finn pulled off his headset, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. His reflection shimmered faintly on the monitor. After thirty-eight failed runs, he had finally done it, through PixelKnight, he had brought down Kraggoth the Devourer.
His stream and social media were buzzing. Notifications burst across his screen, congratulations, likes, cheers flooding in from fans. Relief washed over him, his chest light with victory. At last, the final boss of Eclipse of Eternity was defeated. He could finally move on.
And yet… that dream. Or was it a nightmare? The memory still clung to a corner of his mind, vivid and clear, so real it felt as if he was more a witness of that than anything else. Narbis gone, knemlop vanished, Ashanti in ruins.
He leaned back, breathing hard from the rush of victory. The monitor's glow lit his face, the viewers' cheers fading behind him. Slowly, he wheeled away from the desk. The chair creaked softly.
He had been there for hours, hunched over in his wheelchair. Always in the same spot. Always fighting the same battles on a screen.
For a moment, he saw himself in the dark glass of the monitor, and the memories hit him—sharp, like old scars. The bottles scattered on the floor. The shouting, the slammed doors. His girlfriend leaving, tired of the fights, tired of watching him drink himself away. The loneliness that followed.
Then the accident. Rain on the asphalt, headlights blurring, the crash. Waking up in the hospital with bandages, pain, and the cold truth: his legs were gone. The wheelchair became his prison, solitude his only companion.
Streaming came after. At first, it was just an escape, a way to drown in games instead of bottles. But over time, it grew. The screen became his only window to the world. Fans cheered, but when the stream ended, silence always returned, silence and shadows.
The doorbell rang, pulling him out of his memories.
Finn shook his head and pushed the thoughts aside as he rolled to the door. He opened it to find the pizza delivery guy waiting, warm box in hand. He paid, muttered a thank you, and shut the door behind him.
He set the box down on the counter. The smell of melted cheese filled the room. And then, the bell rang again.
With a sigh, Finn turned his chair back toward the door. Maybe they'd forgotten the drink, or the change. He rolled forward and pulled the handle.
But it wasn't the delivery guy. A figure stood there, hands buried in the pockets of his hoodie, hood pulled low, his face lost in shadow.
Finn froze, his heart hammering. He tried to close the door, but the stranger pushed hard, slipping inside before the lock could catch. The door slammed against the wall.
Finn backed away, wheels screeching across the floor. "Hey! What the hell do you want?"
The man said nothing. His hand slipped into the pocket of his hoodie and came out holding a sharp knife, steel gleaming under the dim light.
Panic surged through Finn. He spun his chair, trying to escape, but the wheels snagged against the corner of the table. Too slow.
The man rushed forward. The knife came down.
A sharp and burning pain shot through Finn's side. He cried out, fighting back with all the strength he had, but the blows kept coming. His arms trembled, his grip slipping as the chair groaned beneath the weight of the struggle.
Blood soaked his shirt, his breaths came short and shallow and his vision blurred.
"Why…?" he gasped, his voice cracking. "Why me…?"
But the hooded man gave no answer. He pulled back, breathing hard, and without a word, walked out the door. The lock clicked shut behind him.
Finn's chair rolled slightly, bumping against the wall. His arms dangled, trembling. The room tilted, the light dimming.
The screen glowed faintly across the room, PixelKnight frozen in victory.
Finn's eyes glazed, the world fading to white. And then... nothing.