Jayden Malone had survived exactly five hours and twenty-seven minutes of the System Apocalypse, and the world was already making less sense than a Twitter political debate.
His phone buzzed nonstop in his pocket—dozens of notifications from social media, news alerts, and at least three missed calls from his mother. He ignored them all, focusing instead on the immediate problem: a pack of mutant sewer rats the size of Labrador retrievers, their glowing red eyes locked onto him with murderous intent.
[Mutant Rat Swarm – Lvl 3]
[Recommended Combat Strategy: Fire, blades, or prayers]
Jayden had none of those things.
What he did have was a half-charged phone, a pocket full of loose Skittles, and an ability that rewarded him for being an absolute clown.
"Alright, you ugly little fur missiles," he muttered, cracking his knuckles. "Let's dance."
And then, for reasons known only to the universe and possibly drunk gods, he started doing the Macarena.
The rats froze.
One tilted its head. Another sniffed the air, whiskers twitching in confusion.
Jayden kept going, adding exaggerated hip swings.
[Freakish Act Detected: Performance Combat]
[Temporary Buff Acquired: "Dance of the Damned" – Enemies are 40% more likely to question their life choices]
The lead rat made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sigh before turning tail and waddling back into the sewer. The others followed, their tiny rat shoulders slumped in defeat.
Jayden dusted off his hands. "And stay out!"
His phone buzzed again. He pulled it out to see a Twitter notification:
@UrbanExplorerMike:
"Just witnessed a dude scare off mutant rats with the Macarena. What even is today. #SystemApocalypse #CondimentHero"
Jayden groaned. "Oh, come on—"
Then his stomach growled.
The city park was a warzone of confused normies and newly-empowered weirdos. A woman in yoga pants floated six feet off the ground, screaming into her phone about "manifesting her best life." A guy in a trench coat kept turning his hands into lobsters, much to his own horror.
Jayden ignored them all, scavenging through an abandoned food cart. He emerged with a half-crushed bag of expired nacho cheese and a slightly bruised apple.
"Dinner of champions," he muttered, just as a shadow blotted out the sun above him.
He looked up.
A pigeon the size of a pickup truck stared down at him, its beady eyes laser-focused on the cheese.
[Giant Urban Roc – Lvl 4]
[Disposition: Hungry/Aggressive]
Jayden glanced at the cheese. At the pigeon. Back at the cheese.
"...You want this, don't you?"
The pigeon cooed, a sound like a foghorn with a sinus infection.
Slowly, Jayden tossed the cheese onto the ground. The bird descended upon it like a feathery meteor, swallowing the entire bag in one gulp. Then it looked at him expectantly.
[Freakish Act Detected: Questionable Animal Husbandry]
[Temporary Buff Acquired: "Pigeon Whisperer" – Avian creatures now view you as a questionable but tolerated food source]
The giant pigeon nudged him with its beak, nearly knocking him over.
"Alright, alright! I don't have any more cheese!" Jayden protested, patting its feathery neck. "But if you stick with me, I bet we can find some french fries or something."
The pigeon cooed approvingly.
Jayden's phone buzzed again. Another tweet:
@CityBirder:
"Okay, who gave the giant murder pigeon a FRIEND?! #SystemApocalypse #CondimentHeroIsNowBirdMan"
Jayden groaned. "I hate the internet."
The local Red Fang Gang had taken over the downtown plaza, their newly acquired System-given powers making them bold. Their leader, a hulking brute with flaming knuckles, stood atop a wrecked car, preaching to his followers about "the new world order."
Jayden would've walked right past them—really, he had no interest in playing hero—except for one problem.
They were blocking the path to the only intact vending machine he'd seen all day.
And he really wanted a soda.
"Hey, chuckleheads!" Jayden called out, hands in his pockets. "Mind moving your cult meeting? Some of us have important business with that vending machine."
The gang turned as one. The leader's flaming fists crackled.
[Red Fang Leader – Lvl 7 Pyro Brawler]
[Disposition: Violent/Ego-Driven]
"You got a death wish, freak?" the leader snarled.
Jayden sighed. "Look, I don't want trouble. I just want a Dr. Pepper."
The gang laughed. The leader cracked his knuckles. "How about I give you a 'Dr. Pain' instead?"
Jayden blinked. "That was terrible. Like, impressively bad."
The leader charged.
Jayden, in a moment of pure instinct, tripped over his own shoelace.
His flailing arms somehow clotheslined the gang leader mid-sprint, sending both of them crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs. The leader's face planted directly into a mud puddle.
Silence.
The gang stared.
Jayden sat up, rubbing his head. "Uh… surrender?"
[Freakish Act Detected: Absurdist Diplomacy]
[Temporary Buff Acquired: "Comedic Timing" – Enemies are 25% more likely to question their life choices after physical comedy]
The gang leader spat out mud. "…What the hell is wrong with you?"
Jayden shrugged. "A lot, apparently."
One by one, the gang members dropped their weapons, shaking their heads and walking away. The leader, after a long, suffering look at the sky, followed.
Jayden dusted himself off, walked to the vending machine, and punched in his soda selection.
[Reputation Gained: "What The Hell Is Wrong With You?"]
[Effect: Strangers are 30% more likely to believe your nonsense]
His phone buzzed again. He pulled it out to see a livestream notification:
@CitizenJournalist:
"LIVE: Local idiot defeats gang by tripping. #SystemApocalypse #CondimentHeroIsAJoke"
Jayden sighed, popped open his soda, and took a long swig.
"Freaking perfect."
Jayden collapsed onto a park bench, his giant pigeon companion roosting nearby like a feathery sentinel. The System flickered angrily in his vision.
[Warning: Anomaly-Class Abilities May Cause…]
The message glitched.
[Just Please Try To Be Normal]
Jayden grinned. "No."
A new notification popped up:
[First Dungeon Spawn Detected: City Park Bandstand]
[Recommended Level: 10]
[Your Level: ERROR]
Somewhere in the distance, a dragon sneezed, the sound like a garbage truck crashing into a fireworks factory.
Jayden stood, cracking his knuckles.
"Alright, dungeon. Let's see how badly I can break you."
4:17 PM – Dungeon Entrance
The city park bandstand had transformed into something out of a psychedelic nightmare. The wooden structure now pulsed with an eerie violet light, its roof stretched upward into an impossible spiral. From within, the distant sound of a carnival waltz mixed with something that sounded suspiciously like a theremin being played by an angry ghost.
A crowd of newly-powered "heroes" had gathered at the entrance, arguing over strategy.
"Alright, listen up!" A muscle-bound guy in football pads clapped his hands like a gym teacher herding toddlers. "I'm a Level 8 Berserker—I'll tank. Mages in the back, healers middle. We go in standard formation—"
Jayden yawned and walked straight past him into the glowing portal.
"Hey! You can't just—"
The world dissolved into glitter and bad decisions.
The dungeon interior was what happened when a carnival mated with an M.C. Escher painting. Cotton candy clouds floated overhead, the ground was checkerboard linoleum that occasionally flipped gravity, and the scent of popcorn and despair hung thick in the air.
[Welcome to: Carnivus's Big Top of Eternal Torment]
[Recommended Level: 10]
[Your Level: ERROR]
Jayden whistled. "Someone didn't get enough hugs as a child."
A shadow loomed. Then a voice boomed from above, dripping with mock cheer:
"WELCOME, LITTLE MEAT-SACK! TIME TO PLAY!"
The boss descended from the ceiling on a unicycle—a fifteen-foot-tall clown doll with porcelain skin cracked like old china, its rictus grin stitched together with glowing barbed wire. It juggled three objects that looked suspiciously like live grenades.
[Carnivus the Unending – Lvl 12 Dungeon Boss]
[Warning: Do Not Taunt Happy Fun Clown]
Jayden eyed the karaoke machine in the corner.
"Oh hell yes."
Carnivus cackled, tossing a grenade.
Jayden dove behind the karaoke machine as the explosion sent wooden shards flying. The screen flickered to life:
♫ SELECT YOUR SONG OF DOOM ♫
Jayden scrolled through options. "Hmm. Too obvious... too boring... ah!"
His finger landed on "Like a Prayer" by Madonna.
The clown paused mid-juggle. "...What are you doing?"
Jayden grabbed the mic.
[Freakish Act Detected: Unholy Audition]
[Effect: Summoning backup singers from the abyss]
The ground split open. Three demonic choir girls in tattered choir robes clawed their way out, their voices harmonizing perfectly despite the fact that one was missing her lower jaw.
Carnivus's grin twitched. "That's not how this works!"
Jayden hit the high note. The chandelier above the clown shattered.
"ENOUGH!" Carnivus bellowed, swiping at Jayden.
Jayden ducked, then squinted at the clown's face. "Dude. Your nose is on backwards."
"WHAT? No it's—" The clown hesitated, touching its red foam nose.
[Freakish Act Detected: Gaslighting]
[Effect: Target now questions fundamental aspects of its existence]
"Seriously, it's all wrong," Jayden said, shaking his head sadly. "No wonder kids cry when they see you."
Carnivus let out a wounded noise and fumbled with its nose. "I—I've had this nose for 300 years!"
"And you never noticed? Yikes."
The clown began hyperventilating.
Seizing the moment, Jayden kicked the karaoke machine into "Uptown Funk".
[Freakish Act Detected: Rhythm-Based Combat]
[Effect: All attacks now sync to the beat. +50% Style Points]
What followed was the most ridiculous boss fight in dungeon history.
Jayden moonwalked under a grenade.
Twirled past a swinging giant fist.
Hit the dougie as the demonic choir girls formed a kickline.
Carnivus, now fully disoriented, tripped over its own unicycle.
"FINISH HIM!" the backup singers screeched.
Jayden grabbed a stray juggling pin and tapped the clown's forehead.
"Boop."
[DUNGEON CLEARED]
[Rewards: 0 XP (ERROR), 1x Cursed Whoopee Cushion, System Admin's Eternal Rage]
As the dungeon dissolved around him, Jayden caught a final notification:
[System Admin Notified]
[Prepare For Compliance Review]
He smirked, adjusting his imaginary sunglasses.
"Bring it on."