KH-Vids Royale III

Things are getting lit

 

truly heating up

 

That hit the spot.

 

can i roll a dex saving throw

 

032​

“Leave Boris and run!”
Mish heard Misty scream, but it was too late. Darkandroid came rushing from the tall grass, the flamethrower’s hose pointed directly at her. She screamed as his finger pulled the trigger. Her hair billowed and she felt the first puff of hot air coming from the hose. But her scream was cut short as she was winded by someone slamming their body into hers. She sprawled to the ground, gasping for air, and looked up to see Kitty with her arms extended before the flames engulfed her. When Darkandroid was done pulling the trigger, not even a bone was left. Mish reached into the waistline of her pants and pulled out the Glock, aiming it at Darkandroid.
“****er,” she spat, and pulled the trigger. But the chamber locked, and nothing came out. She smacked the gun on her palm and shot again, but it was the same result. Darkandroid realized what was happening and turned her way, ready to have a second try at burning her alive.
“I’m sorry, Mish. No one so precious deserves to go this way.”
Mish turned away, ready for the inevitable.
Pop. P-pop. Pop!
The scorching hellfire never came. Mish kept one eye closed, squinting open the other. The sun was rising, and the first purple rays of light spilled over the ruins, revealing three gun wounds in Darkandroid’s chest. They bubbled with blood as he choked, grasping his heart and stomach. The weight of the flamethrower pulled his body forward and he collapsed with a crash.
Mish turned around. Aelin was underneath the bench where Boris was tied up with smoke drifting from the end of her gun. She sighed, moving a piece of hair that had fallen into her face out of the way.
“T-thank you,” Mish stuttered. She was alive. But Kitty…
Bang! B-bang bang!
More bullets whizzed by and she heard Misty scream again.
“Risk, Mish! He’s still out there!”
Aelin fired off shots for cover as Mish dived into the tall grass a few meters away. Laying down, she was invisible. Things were still around her as the gunfire ceased. Through the grass, she watched Aelin peek from behind the vending machine. Boris was mouthing something at her - probably still begging to be untied. There was a black patch of scorched earth where her friend had been, and Darkandroid’s corpse lay not far from it.
Thanks, Kitty, Mish smiled. A tear ran down her cheek. She knew she’d lose friends during the game, but she still couldn't have prepared herself for it to be someone she truly loved.
How lucky to die first, she realized. You won’t be around to see the rest of us go.
“I call a ceasefire!” screamed Risk, and Mish turned toward the ruins. She crawled through the grass a bit, it being too dense from her previous position to see down the road where Risk was hiding.
No one spoke for a moment, then she heard Cin’s voice. “A ceasefire?”
"I didn't want to attack,” Risk explained. “I just wanted to stay at the crate! They made me come along!”
There was a pause while Cin, C, and Misty talked behind the crate. Mish couldn’t tell them what she was thinking, but a ceasefire was fine with her. Too many people had died since the brown dogs attacked. She didn’t want to see anyone else go, too.
“Fine,” Cin said. “We all rise on three. One!”
Mish got ready to stand. She had no idea who else might be around.
“...Two!”
She cocked the Glock. Please work, she thought. The damn thing had misfired only a minute before. If it wasn’t ready when she needed it…
“One!”
Bodies popped up left and right, and Mish looked around to see everyone with their weapons pointed at Risk. He stood alone behind a giant piece of concrete that had fallen from a building, pointing his single-chambered pistol wildly back and forth at everyone.
“Just give up, man,” C called. “You look like an idiot.”
Risk reluctantly raised the gun into the air and the others followed.
“Okay, let’s drop our weapons - very slowly, now.”
They crouched in unison and put their weapons down, then stood back up again. Eyes were darting in all directions.
“Good,” Cin said. “It’s time for negotiations.”
“What about him?” Risk asked, pointing behind the crate. “Put your gun down, too, Libre!”
Mish gasped. Libre? Where’d he go!?
She followed Risk’s eyes. Libre was standing beyond her team’s crate at the edge of the cliff. Behind him, the sun was showing beyond the earth’s lip. The sky was a dark blue now, and in his hands, she saw both the PKM and Cin's tracker. Mish watched the others run toward him, so she followed suit. They were almost to the edge of the cliff when Libre screamed at them.
“What do you think you’re doing!? Stay back! All of you!”
Libre scattered shots into the air with his PKM. Aelin was nearby and she jumped toward Mish.
“Be careful, Mish,” she said. “I’ve been watching his eyes throughout the night. I don’t know what’s going on in his head, but it’s bad.”
“Stop this, Libre,” Cia begged. “We want to know what you’re doing!? What happened to our team?”
“Oh, **** the red birds!” Libre laughed. “**** all of you!”
He let the PKM fall to his chest and pulled two grenades out of his tracksuit pocket. W-what!? Mish thought, stunned. Aren’t those Inasuma’s-? Oh no...
No one had picked them up when he'd died, and now Libre juggled them.
“I’ll pull the pins if you don’t stay the **** back,” he shouted. “I’ll blow us up - us and this damn tracker, too!”
“All this over a tracker?” Cia cried. “I hate you, Libre! I hate you!”
But the man only laughed like a maniac. “What, you thought I’d finally tell you I loved you because we were going to die? Because we were lucky enough to be on the same team?”
“N-no,” Cia stammered. Her lip quivered. “And I never felt that way! It was all in your head!”
“Shut up, Cia. Just shut up! You’re all so cute with your little plan to kill Roxas. I love it - love it! But you didn’t invite ol’ Libre over to the crate with you now, did you? I feel like that’s a lot to keep from someone you call a teammate.”
“We were going to go over the plan this morning,” Cin argued. “We just wanted to iron it out with a few friends, first."
“A few friends,” Libre chuckled. He looked at one of the grenades and tossed it in the air, catching it with a wry smile across his face. “That’s what this is about? Friendship? We’re all going to ****ing die, ****wads! Didn’t you figure that out yet! We’re ****ed! So forget your ****ing friends - forget everything!”
Libre lifted a grenade and wrapped his finger around the pin. Mish went to grab her Glock but realized she’d left it on the ground during the ceasefire. She glanced at Aelin, but her Springfield had run out of bullets and she was in the middle of reloading.
“No!” screamed Cin. “Don’t!”
Libre went to pull the pin, and Mish closed her eyes, ready to be engulfed in fire and death once more.
BANG!
The crack of the Colt Python .357 was so loud that Mish and Aelin fell to the grass in each other’s arms. It was as if the air itself had moved out of the bullet's course on the way to its target - the center of Libre’s forehead. His finger still wrapped around the grenade’s pin, his body listed back and forth like a bowling pin ready to fall. Mish looked into his crazed eyes as he plummeted over the edge of the cliff, tracker and grenades in hand.
It felt like an eternity before she finally heard the splash.
“Is that… Trigger?” Aelin whispered. She clutched Mish’s arm.
Mish turned. There, by the red crate, stood Trigger. Behind him were Lauriam and Tamale. He put the gun in his pocket and walked up to them.
“Damn,” he said, eyeing the carnage. “We late?”

14 players remaining

 

welp, master plan ruined. all hope lost
--- Post updated ---
PS RIP Kitty, my love

 

If only there was another tracker with the composer's avatar on it, but there's nothing like that... right?

 

033​

Aelin wanted to scream at Trigger. Are you ****ing late!? Yeah, a bit!
Yet, he’d saved all their lives when he fired that gun. She held it in. There was no time for anger amidst all this sadness. The sun had risen beyond the edge of the water and a new day had begun. Dead bodies from the showdown were strewn about the street and grass. She and the others waited as the announcement of the dead came through and a laundry list of players were read off. Finally, after Libre’s name, it stopped. Waves lapped against the cliff at the bottom of the island as the tide ebbed and pleasant birdsong came from the jungle to the south. It would have been so cheery, so beautiful; if not for the shadow and stench of death that permeated everything around them.
“We have all the teams here,” Misty said. “We need to swear a truce until this is sorted out. We don’t need any more dead friends.”
“I agree,” Cin called. “We need to be diplomatic.”
Nods and murmurs confirmed that the group agreed. Aelin clasped her gun, the potential violence too dire a threat to forget about. She wanted to be back at her team’s crate. She hoped to god all the flags were still there.
“Each team should choose a representative,” Cin continued. “Any takers?”
“I can represent the blue team,” Misty said.
“And I’ll represent the green team,” Aelin called. Cin nodded, so she stepped forward.
“I’m here for the brown dogs,” Risk said sheepishly. “Sorry about the attack…”
No one acknowledged his apology, content to move on from the situation altogether.
“I’ll speak for the red team,” Cin said. “That leaves the yellow team. I guess we need Boris for that.”
Boris? It suddenly hit Aelin. She’d been the one watching Boris. She turned to the building with the decrepit vending machine and wooden bench, but he was gone. Rope lay torn on the ground. Oh no, her inner voice murmured. Oh no, oh no, oh no.
“Where’s Boris?”
“He was tied up,” Aelin said quickly. “On the bench.”
“****,” Mish gasped, realizing what was going on. “Boris!? Boris!”
“Calm down, everyone,” Boris laughed. Everyone turned toward the ruins. Boris stood behind Tamale and Lauriam, his old rifle in his hands once more. It was pointed directly at Trigger.
“Boris,” Cin said. “Come on, man. We don’t want to do this again.”
“You had me tied up for a good 18 hours and now you want me to play nice? Come on man yourself, Cin.” Sweat was dripping down Boris’s head. Aelin reckoned a well-placed shot to either knee would drop him to the ground. If he was disabled for even a moment and Tamale or Lauriam made a move for the rifle… But she shook the thought off when she noticed Boris’s strained, crazed eyes. He was a lit firecracker ready to explode at any moment.
“Didn’t you hear the announcement just now? Six of us died, Boris. You want to make that seven?”
“I don't care, Cin. Now tell me who attacked us!” Boris shouted. “We all heard the explosions up on the volcano. Who was it, huh? Who went for the yellow team’s flag?”
It was silent.
“Who was it!?”
“Boris, we need a representative from the brown team,” Cin said softly, like an adult speaking to a child. “You’re the only one here who ca-”
Bang!
Boris really didn’t care what Cin had to say. Aelin saw him brace as the gun’s recoil pushed back. The bullet struck Trigger in the heart and his magnum spun on his left index finger before it dropped into the grass. Words tried to leave his throat but she only heard gargling as he fell to his knees, his hands patting at his pecs. The last thing he must have seen was his palms covered in blood before his eyes rolled back and he collapsed face forward into the ground.
Aelin fired her pistol. The bullet struck Boris’s kneecap and he screamed, falling backward. The rifle flew from his hands and Lauriam dashed in to swipe it up. Boris cursed as he realized what was happening, but Tamale and Lauriam had weapons pointed at him before he could make a stand. Blood oozed from the tracksuit down his leg, and Aelin knew he wouldn’t be walking anytime soon.
Mish and Misty ran to Trigger. His body was lifeless. Mish closed his eyelids and Misty picked up his weapon. The announcement of his death came through - “Player number twelve - Trigger - has left the game.” Aelin was so sick of hearing it, so tired of seeing people die. And this one came with guilt. She shouldn’t have taken her eyes off her prisoner. When the ceasefire was called, she had no reason to abandon him on the bench. Why’d she made such a foolish mistake? She wanted Boris to pay, but she didn’t want to continue the cycle. If anything, a bullet to the knee was more torture than a quick death would have been. At least that was some vengeance for Trigger.
It’s just part of the game. She thought about it, but she didn’t want to admit it. She didn’t want to know how numb she’d truly become. People die and people live. But you keep playing.
“God dammit!” Boris screamed. “**** this game! **** you, Roxas!” He broke down in tears. Aelin thought he looked pathetic. “Sara,” he continued, crying. “Sara…”
She had to turn away. Her emotions were too mixed to comprehend.
“Another player lost,” C sighed. “And our main target still lives.” He and Cin had the tracker that EvilMan_89 had hacked. Roxas's avatar hadn't moved. “He’s still there,” C added. “What do we do now?”
“We head south,” Cin replied. “It’s time we put ourselves where Roxas’s avatar is.”
“But what if he moves north?”
“We’ll keep an eye on the tracker. If there is a network of tunnels underground, that can at least help us confirm it. As for how we access those - well, I have no damned clue.”
“And the challenge?” Misty asked. “The flags? Do we ignore it all?”
“Yes,” Cin said. “Let’s visit our crates and get anyone who’s still alive rounded up. Then we can explain this to everyone.”
People nodded. Aelin thought it was a good plan, too. If he’s really on that tracker and we find him, we can end this.
DOO-DOO-DAAAAAAHH!!!
The trumpet melody that played every time there was a death announcement came in again, this time more distorted and louder than ever before.
“Players!” There was cackling. Aelin sighed - she’d learned to recognize Roxas’s manic laugh by now. “Did we all enjoy that stroll down memory lane? Don’t you love a good game of capture the flag? But it’s dawn, so this challenge is over! And that means it’s time to find out our winners - and our losers.”
Everyone who’d gathered at the cliff looked around uncomfortably. They all seemed to realize it at the same time; this was it.
“Let’s just say before we announce the results that that was pure entertainment. You guys really are putting on a show for our viewers at home. It’s incredible, really!”
Shut up, you sick *******.
“And I’ll tell you what, the number of viewers has gone up so much in the last 18 hours. When you all see the ad revenue we’re pulling in now - ha - just wait until we increase the prize pool!”
That’s right - the money. That’s why we’re here, remembered Aelin. If this challenge was over, that meant there wouldn’t be teams anymore, right? Would she be going solo again?
“But only some of you will be returning to the dormitory, so it’s time to find out our winners. Are you ready?” An obnoxious drum roll played. “In first place… it’s a shocker! The brown dogs win with seven flags!”
“Seven flags!?” Misty said. “How?”
“Well, we left Yozora behind to hit the other crates and steal a flag each,” Risk shrugged. “The attack here was a distraction when we saw Libre head north after stealing our flag earlier in the game.”
Damn it, Aelin though. That means one of our team's flags, I’m sure. I'll have to hope for second or third.
“In second place, we have… a tie! It’s the red birds and the blue whales with six flags each!” The happiness that flooded over Misty and Mish’s faces looked like ecstasy to Aelin. “He might have gone crazy, but praise Libre,” Mish said. “He got us the sixth flag.”
“And what about us?” asked Misty. “We never stole a flag.”
“We got given one,” Lauriam said. “Tamale stole one from the yellow giraffes, so we took it to our crate before we came here instead of taking one of the green team's flags.”
Wait, Aelin thought. If Tamale’s giving away other team's flags, then surely -
“Now the next announcement decides the losers of our game. Will it be the green monkeys?” Aelin, Tamale and C all looked at each other.
“Or the yellow giraffes?”
Everyone looked at Boris.
“Fourth place goes to… the green monkeys!”
Aelin breathed a sigh of relief. She wanted to run and huge Tamale, but he was so close to Boris, who she already felt was ready to blow. The man began to sob even harder when he heard the announcement. The yellow giraffes had officially lost the game. But what exactly did that mean?
“Well played by all,” Roxas chuckled with glee. “But it’s time we say goodbye to our losing team. For all of you at home who spent all your channel points betting on the yellow giraffes, I’m sorry that it didn’t work out! Ha! Anyway, guys - it looks like your time is up!”
How can he be so casual about this?
“And as for the rest of you - well, the challenge is complete. So it looks like we’re going to have to bring you in. I’ll see you back at the dorm.”
There was a click, and that was it.
Beep, beep, beep.
Something red lit up inside Boris’s neck. They’d all seen it happen to Catch the Rain. Lauriam stepped back.
“I’m sorry,” she said, turning and taking Boris's old rifle with her. No one wanted to see what happened next.
“Please,” Boris sobbed. “Save me. Somebody.”
Aelin closed her eyes and listened to the waves instead. But she heard another sound - propellers, the same sound she’d heard when helicopters had dropped their crates.
“Choppers!” called Cia, pointing to the sky. When Aelin looked up, she saw ten helicopters spewing gas as they flew over the island.
Got it, she realized. They’re gassing us from the sky this time.
There was always a way to knock them out before they took them back to the dormitory. But why go through all the trouble instead of asking them to return? What was it they were hiding?
“Save me… please…” Boris wept one last time.
B-b-b-b-beeeeeeeeeeeeep!
She heard the explosion as his head blew off his shoulders. There was no need to look his way.

---​

On the volcano, Jinx and Calxiyn held each other behind a boulder as the team placings were announced. When they found out the yellow giraffes had lost, Calxiyn finally cried.
“It’s okay,” Jinx said. “It’ll be over, now. It’ll finally all be over.”
The microchips in their necks began to beep.
“Let’s back up from each other,” Jinx said, standing. They gave each other some space. Calxiyn could see a small red light flashing beneath Jinx’s skin.
“You’re right,” she said, smiling for the first time since the game had begun. “It’ll finally be over.”
A hand wrapped around her mouth.
“Who are you!?” Jinx screamed. “Where did you come from?”
Calxiyn felt a small blade dig into her neck. She screamed in pain, ready for her throat to be slit. It wasn’t the way she’d expected to go, but any way was okay with her at this point.
Instead, she felt the microchip fall from her neck. The person who’d cut her open caught it with one hand and threw it over the boulder.
“Wait,” Jinx said. “Can you do that for-”
He never finished his sentence as the microchip inside his neck exploded. Blood splattered the boulder where Calxiyn and the mysterious figure ducked. She felt the stone rumble as her chip - which had been thrown on the other side - exploded itself. Calxiyn turned to see who her savior was.
The man wore a mask like those in the dormitory, but his clothes were all red.
“Who are you?” she asked, but there was no response. They pulled out a gas mask and placed it on her face.
“Sleep,” they said, the voice garbled and robotic. “Sleep, my princess.”

11 players remaining

 

Poor Boris...

 

my friends are dropping like flies

 

Buzzing incessantly for 2 days, banging into walls, then drying up on the windowsill? You try to let them out and they fly everywhere except the wide open door? You eventually need to slap them into oblivion?

 

MYSTERY MAN MYSTERY MAN AAAAAAAAAAAA

 

034​

Roxas reveled in the viewers he’d amassed on the island live stream, laughing like a megalomaniac as Boris’s head turned to pulp. He stood and clapped, his own standing ovation for a perfect performance by his game’s players. Donations and subscriptions seemed to be landing at an exponential rate, the on-screen drama better than any reality TV show that had come before. His Organization pawns typed away at their computers, setting up ads and analyzing metrics to corner markets who’d yet to be exposed to the game. Even though things had been underway for a few days, there were entire pockets of society who’d yet to discover the entertainment. The North American, Western European and Asian markets had been cornered, but their viewers were still low in Slavic and Southern American countries. Ideas had been thrown around the boardroom - like adding sombreros to the player’s bags before the next challenge. But Roxas had shot them down, not interested in pandering to demographics in a pathetic, slightly racist attempt to get their attention. He knew that the game itself was the only draw they needed, and once word of mouth got out, viewers would flock from all regions to watch a bunch of Kingdom Hearts fans murder each other over a pile of cash.
So far, it was incredible. He was rich - filthy so! And that was even before factoring in the split between the other investors in the game; other owners of famous Kingdom Hearts fansites.
The door to the control room banged open, and two Organization members came running in, machine guns drawn.
“Roxas!” one called. “An anomaly has been sighted. See cameras 16 and 17!”
“Hmm?”
He turned, and waved to an Organization member operating a computer. Two cameras were brought up on the great screens that surrounded the room. There, the yellow giraffes huddled together before their inevitable deaths.
“What is it? What happened?”
“Fast forward!” The one at the computer spun something on his screen and the video moved ahead. Roxas gasped when he saw what the anomaly was.
“Stop!” he shouted. “Rewind that!”
The video was rewound, and they all watched again. “It can’t be,” Roxas whispered.
A red-cloaked Organization member emerged from the ground, cut the chip from Calxiyn’s neck, and took her back into the tunnel with him.
“What in god’s sake!?” Roxas screamed. “Who was that!? Was it - no!”
“We have him in custody,” one of the members with a machine gun said. “For security purposes, we can’t announce his name here.”
A twist in the game that even I couldn’t foresee, Roxas mused, stroking his chin. No, this is perfect. This is exactly what I need. All this drama can’t be planned in advance. There needs to be something to keep me on my toes, too.
“Take me to them,” Roxas said. “Quickly.”

---​

Roxas was led north through a series of underground tunnels. At one point it stretched on for so long that a flat, moving platform similar to an escalator had been installed for ease of travel. The Organization members and Roxas stood in silence as they passed beneath the island, past the same black, metal walls and LED lights. Eventually they reached a crossroad and turned east for the volcano.
“You almost here? Over.”
One of the Organization members had a walkie-talkie, and replied. “Yeah, almost. We’ve turned east. Where are you? Over.”
“The break room. Over.”
“See you soon. Over.”
Roxas checked his phone. None of the player’s avatars were moving now - they were most likely passed out. The helicopters were probably doing their second or third pass already, and when they’d completed ten, Organization members would go up to the surface to retrieve their bodies before the next challenge would begin.
What should I do for the next challenge? he wondered. He’d have to cross a lot of the ones he’d come up with off his list now that so many players had been eliminated at once.
The moving platform came to an end and Roxas followed the men down a long, dimly lit hall of similarly repetitive structure. Other Organization members began to appear as they entered a more densely populated area. Beneath the volcano was an expansive network of computers and offices where footage was gathered in real time and turned into clips to show in highlight reels and as replays. There had to be ample content to fill the downtime, so the crews here worked tirelessly to ensure that the stream never had a boring moment. On Roxas’s left, one of his members was doing a Zoom interview with Catch the Rain’s father, who was crying while he mourned the pointless death of his daughter.
Brilliant, Roxas snickered. Now that’ll be a big dono or two.
“Welcome, Composer. The prisoners are in here.”
Chairs and tables had been cleared from the break room and filled the office. Roxas’s workers stared as he walked to the door, wondering what would happen when he confronted the person inside.
Roxas opened the door. The man in red sat in a chair, his hands tied behind his back. Calxiyn, with her gas mask still on, lay on the floor while two Organization members did first aid on her neck. They disinfected and wrapped the wound while her sudden, shocked breaths were amplified by the mask's mouthpiece.
“Take that thing off her,” Roxas said. “There’s no need for that.”
They pulled off the mask and she coughed as she came to.
“Let it out, Calxiyn,” Roxas laughed. “And no, this isn’t heaven. You’re still alive.”
She took a minute to catch her breath. Roxas turned to the one in red. There were only three people that could be hiding behind that mask. It was time to find out who it was.
“Wait,” Calxiyn sputtered. “What’s going to happen to me now?”
Roxas stopped. “A fair question,” he answered. “I suppose you’ll have to keep playing the game.”
“No,” Calxiyn sighed, about to cry. “Just kill me here.”
“I can’t do that,” Roxas said. “It wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be what the game wants.”
“How do you know what it wants?”
“Because it’s my game,” Roxas said flatly. “With my rules. You know - you just made me think of something great. Why should only you go back into the game?”
He turned to the man in red and walked forward.
“We did lose a lot of players, just now. So how about we add one more?” A cackle escaped his lips. “Player number thirty-one has a good ring to it, no? Seems like a fair punishment - for treason!”
With those last words, Roxas grabbed the person in red’s mask and tore it off their face. The red hood fell back. Calxiyn gasped.
“My princess,” Blaine whispered, his pale face revealed. “I’m so glad you’re alive.”

12 players remaining

 

holy **** that's hilarious

 

Lmfao that's both an amazing reveal and just all around great twist.

 

I guess he was hiding in Blaine sight