“Hey, you big guy!” Pyro shouted at the Ork leading the chase on a dilapidated, smoke-belching motorcycle.
The Ork paused mid-curse. For a moment, it looked genuinely confused.
“You talkin’ to me?”
“Is there anyone bigger than you here?” Pyro retorted, equally puzzled.
“Hehehehe…”
The Ork suddenly seemed pleased. Although Pyro had meant nothing by it, the green-skinned brute clearly took it as a compliment about his size.
It giggled for a good while before snapping back to attention under Pyro’s flat, unimpressed stare.
“Alright, Umie. I, Gorzog Skull Crusha, am here. What do ya want?”
“What kind of ridiculous name is that…” Pyro muttered under his breath, then raised his voice. “Mr. Gorzog, my friend says we can stop and fight—but we’ll only accept a one-on-one duel with you. If we win, you let us go.”
“Huh? You jokin’, Umie?” Gorzog’s eyes widened, veins bulging on his thick neck. “Let you go? What about my lads? They wanna fight too!”
As if on cue, tens of thousands of Orks echoed a thunderous “WAAAGH!” The sound rolled across the desert like a physical shockwave, rattling the Chimera’s hull.
“I said—” Pyro started weakly, then steadied himself and raised his voice. “Even if it’s not one-on-one, there are only two of us here! If ten thousand of you charge in, how many of you even get to fight us properly?!”
“Uh…” Gorzog paused, thinking. “Yeah… I guess that makes sense.”
For a moment, he looked almost convinced. A one-on-one fight did sound more satisfying. If all the lads piled in, he might not even get a proper swing in.
“Alright then! I accept!”
Two Chimeras and tens of thousands of Ork bikes slowly came to a halt in the vast desert.
RNGesus opened the hatch, stepped out, and walked toward Gorzog alone.
“You’re Gorzog, right? Come on—let’s duel.”
He looked tiny compared to the massive Ork warboss, but his chin was raised high, refusing to back down.
Gorzog studied him, sneered, and rose from his bike. His enormous frame swallowed the sunlight, casting RNGesus completely in shadow.
“You Umies are real funny,” Gorzog said, flexing an arm thicker than RNGesus’s waist. Muscles bulged like living stone. “What makes you think you can fight me?”
“Hmph.” RNGesus swallowed nervously, but forced his voice steady. “What makes me think so? Of course—it’s 42.”
“42?” Gorzog repeated, confused.
RNGesus smirked, even though he didn’t fully understand it himself. “Heh… simple-minded greenskins wouldn’t get it. It’s the ultimate answer to the universe.”
Gorzog blinked.
Then he turned his head slightly toward Pyro. “This Umie’s broken in the head. I don’t wanna fight him anymore. You fight me instead.”
Pyro immediately burst out laughing.
“You green-skin bastard!” RNGesus snapped, pointing at Gorzog. “Dawdling like a coward—are you scared?!”
A low rumble rolled through the Ork crowd.
“WAAAGH…”
Gorzog’s expression changed instantly. Playfulness vanished. Killing intent surged like a storm.
“You brought this on yourself, little Umie.”
He drew a massive, rusted cleaver from his bike. The blade was wider than RNGesus’s face, over a meter long, chipped and jagged—but radiating lethal weight.
RNGesus stared at it. “That doesn’t even need sharpening… one hit and I’m paste. Where’s my dice… save me…”
“Where’s your weapon?” Gorzog asked, tapping the cleaver against his palm. A shockwave kicked sand at RNGesus’s feet. “Don’t tell me that’s a water pistol at your waist?”
Unfortunately, he was right.
RNGesus hadn’t expected real combat. He had left his chainsword behind and only carried a laser pistol.
But admitting that would be humiliating.
He snorted. “Shallow.”
“What?”
RNGesus placed a hand on his chest and declared solemnly, “My weapon… is right here.”
Gorzog stared. Completely lost.
“…No sword in hand, but sword in heart…” Pyro muttered from behind. “You called me an elementary schooler before… but you’re maybe middle school level at best.”
“You Umie trying to trick me?” Gorzog growled.
Then he stepped forward.
Heavy footfalls shook the sand.
“I’ll turn you into meat paste—”
And then—
“Ah—ya—!”
Gorzog suddenly slipped.
Completely, absurdly, impossibly.
His massive body slammed into the sand in a spectacular, unceremonious fall.
Silence.
No one understood how a three-meter-tall Ork warboss could trip on flat desert sand—but he had.
His cleaver flew through the air, spun, and stabbed upright into the sand beside RNGesus.
Perfectly within reach.
RNGesus stared at it.
Then at Gorzog’s exposed neck.
“…Huh.”
He grabbed the weapon.
And brought it down.
Puff.
The Ork warboss’s head rolled into the sand.
His eyes were still wide open.
He died confused.
“…Uh.” RNGesus blinked. Then scratched his head. “Haha… I won. So uh… you guys letting us go now?”
Naturally, that was impossible.
“The cowardly Umie killed the boss!”
The Orks roared and surged forward—
Then stopped.
All at once.
They were no longer looking at RNGesus.
They were staring behind him.
“…What?” RNGesus slowly turned.
In the sky above, a brilliant meteor burned through the atmosphere.
It grew larger.
Brighter.
Faster.
“…No way,” RNGesus whispered. “Don’t tell me I just—”
The meteor screamed downward.
And struck.