Prologue

Jim's glinty, glinty eyes surveyed the Valley of Godless Ruination. Four hours prior, the love of his life had met a bloody end. In happier times, Jim might have made a meta-joke about someone's bloody end, but these were not happy times, as evidenced by the fact that he stood on a hill overlooking a place called the Valley of Godless Ruination. Nothing good can happen at a place with such a foreboding name.

Constantina, he thought. You sexy idiot. What good is it to be so wedded to your fucking duty if you're dead? How does your beloved duty benefit from your death? You sexy, sexy idiot.

 Jim had no more tears left. Only rage and an ache in his heart. He knelt and put his palm to the cool dirt. You belong to the earth now, my love. He saw a rock the size of an Xbox controller. What the fuck did we call it? The Duke? Jim's days as a writer for Destroyzoid.com had ended the moment Nero was assassinated by the defector Sarketron. In the half second it had taken Nero's head to fall from his body to the ground, Jim had transformed into a dealer of shrieking vengeance. The video had been posted online as a warning to all members of Destroyzoid.

 "Stop making games with sexy women," said Sarketron. "We will kill one member of your beloved Destroyzoid every month until there are no more sexy women in games." Sarketron the Silent, she was called. Good Sarketron the Silent, tactical is she. Jim remembered the song they sang when their former sister had disappeared. They thought she had been kidnapped by the Femsploders. They were wrong, and their carelessness had cost Nero his head.

 Tactical is she. Damn it! It says "tactical" in the bloody song. We should have known. He frowned the frown of a thousand collapsing stars. Then he remembered The Duke and frowned harder. Then... then he remembered the naming of Microsoft's third game console and his frown became death itself. He picked up the rock. He clenched it in his gloved hand, forcing it to absorb all of his pain. All of his rage. His grip tightened.

 Damn you, Sarketron. Damn you, Nero. The stone began to glow. Damn you, Microsoft. Damn you for making us scramble to find ways to differentiate between the Xbox and the Xbox One. The stone was red hot and steam was rising from it. His glove was melting. The pleather made popping and hissing sounds. He squeezed harder. And you, Constantina. You sexy criminal. You left me here to finish this alone. You know I'm not strong enough without you. You KNOW!!

 The rock exploded in his hand. His gaze returned to the Valley of Godless Ruination. He knew not what he would find there, but he knew blood would spill upon the dusty ground. Mine?

 To his left was an ancient corpse, now merely a pile of bones. The feathered end of an arrow protruded from the dead man's rib cage. A sword and a whetstone lay beside him. He was killed while sharpening that pitiful sword. Jim withdrew his own steel, thinking of the joke he might have made, long ago, about sliding a shining sword from its scabbard. His sword was massive, and forged into the shape of a life sized nude Matt Borealis. It glinted like Jim's eyes.

 He paused to enjoy the shape of the sword. Matt's curves are as lovely as they are deadly. And Sarketron will know it before long. He picked up the whetstone and began sharpening Matt Borealis' curves. He looked yet again at the Valley of Godless Ruination, and shrieked in fury.