~If he made it out of this fight alive, Jay Omega swore he was going to do very thorough research on all the interplanetary combat events he intended to participate in from now on. This was no ordinary vampire, as evidenced by both the ash stake and the silver dagger embedded in the creature's heart having no discernible effect. Now Jay was engaged in a life or death struggle with the ancient entity, wielding only a handaxe he had very little practice with.

  At least the axe had some sort of magical properties, given how the abomination trying to eat Omega shied away from the blade, where it had ignored the dagger sinking into its ribs. Jay himself was bleeding from a score of shallow wounds on his arms and torso, earned when he stabbed the vampiric thing and driven it into more of a frenzy than it already was. Omega knew the odds against him were steadily increasing; blood loss would sap even his legendary stamina sooner or later. Defense was a losing game, if he was going to survive this, he needed to attack.

  The Omega Man wiped what he thought was sweat from his brow with the hand holding the axe, and was surprised when it came away streaked with red; was more surprised when the haft in his hand began to glow red, and one of the arcane sigil on the head lit up in a similar hue. The filthy, ragged creature before him hissed warily, shrinking back from the crimson light, and that was all Jay needed to bolster his confidence. Omega spun the axe with a flourish, and stepped in with a horizontal, two-handed swing.

  And hit nothing but mist as his ghoulish foe darted out of range. Jay let the momentum carry him through a full pivot, stepping in again and feinting with an overhand slash. The vampire thing slipped to the side to avoid the blow, as per Omega's plan; Jay ducked into a Wu Shu leg sweep that caught the alien myth off guard, and sent it toppling to the mud. Omega raised the axe overhead again, intent on finishing the fight, but an unexpected sound stayed his blade.

  "No!" cried a woman's voice, "Don't kill her! Please!"

  The creature had also frozen at the unseen woman's shout, and Jay sensed there was more to this hunt than was public knowledge. Omega cautiously lowered the axe, keeping a wary eye on the pseudo-vampire.

  "I hope you've got a really good reason for why I shouldn't." Jay called into the silvery void.

  The mist parted around Omega, and a strikingly beautiful Luwari woman stepped forward, huddling protectively over the fallen wretch.

  "Because she's my mother." the woman said, her eyes pleading for mercy. Well fuck.~

*Welcome back, True Believers! Can you feel that building anticipation tingling in the cockles of your hearts? Maybe even in the sub-cockle area; the heart-testes, if you will–*

*I won't, thank you. That's not how biology works.*

*Bite me, Boringface McStuffyPants. You're just jealous of my mad poetic licensing skillz.*

*Spewing nonsensical gibberish like a handicapped parrot with Tourette's is not poetic license.*

*And when did you become the authority on wordiness? You barely finished high school!*

*That was uncalled for, you insufferable, ignominious, impetuous–*

JAY OMEGA: Listen, guys, I love your banter and all, but we've got a promo to do, and you're eating up valuable airtime.

*Whoops.*

*Whoopsie!*

JAY OMEGA: Oh, Ryan George references are tight!

*We fade in to find Jay Omega sitting in a large chair in the center of our screens. The background consists of an elevated area of white tile and gleaming chrome behind him, with several readout screens displaying information in an angular script quite unlike English. The Omega Man settles back comfortably in his seat, and hooks his right ankle over his left knee.*

JAY OMEGA: Tch. I see you're one of those people, Sidney. Too narrow-minded to grasp the greater truths of reality. I've got this whole spiel I usually pull out in these situations, about looking at the world through a pinprick in a blindfold, but something tells me I'd just be wasting my breath on Old Yeller, so forgive me if I just say that you don't have the slightest clue what you're talking about, and move on. Also, besting a guy who fights aliens for funsies will raise your stock a lot higher than whooping some delusional nutcase, just sayin'.

*Jay drops his foot to the deck, then pulls out his black cigarette case - I don't know why we call it that, the thing has never contained cigarettes - and gold Zippo. Just as he's about to spark up, a warbling hoot comes from off screen, causing Omega to pause and narrow his eyes in mild vexation.*

JAY OMEGA: Hey man, I don't complain about the smell coming outta your quarters. But fine, I won't smoke on the bridge.

*Jay replaces the blunt in the case, then puts it back in his pocket, grumbling under his breath all the while.*

JAY OMEGA: Now, I'm not going into lecture mode on the nature of perception versus reality, but I do feel the need to correct a few factual inaccuracies Old Yeller laid out in her first promo. Number one, my cybernetics. I ain't RoboCop, or the Terminator, I'm not packed to the gills with fancy tech. The only machine parts I have are in my brain, and they really don't do me much good if I'm not wearing my power armour. Number two, absolutely nobody is saying my win over Whiskey Dick was anything but pure skill on my part.

*Omega moves his hand to his mouth as if to draw on a blunt, then realizes he's empty-handed. Jay reaches for his black case, then stops with a sigh.*

JAY OMEGA: Number three, my ship is safely stashed in a hidden bunker out in the asteroid belt, not crashed on the moon. Though some friends and I did find a techno-organic space dragon crashed on the far side of the moon a few years ago, so that might be the source of your confusion. No, wait, that didn't happen in this universe. Anyway, number four… Shit, what was number four? Whatever, couldn't have been too important. The next order of business would be Sidney's offer of sweetening the pot. Speaking of sweet po– oh, for fuck's sake! Hang on, we'll continue this somewhere I can light up.

*Omega levers himself to his feet, and the image freezes. We then clock wipe to Jay stretched out on a wide, unmade bed in a dim room lit by softly glowing amber crystals. Video playback resumes, and Omega brings the burning bud in his right hand up to his lips, takes a toke, then exhales a cloud of smoke that looks almost pink in the current lighting.*

JAY OMEGA: Much better. So Sid, I applaud your self confidence, with your assurances that it's gonna be you with your hand raised after our bout. I've got a slightly different opinion of how things are gonna go, but for now, we'll talk about what you've proposed for post-match. In the highly unlikely event that you somehow manage to stop the fuckin' freight train that I am from smashing through this tournament, you want me to give you my Wearable Espionage and Information Retrieval Device, which is basically the keys to my starship, and a backdoor into every supposedly secure network on Earth, as well as a few other planets. So, yeah, not happening, even if you could beat me in the ring.

*The Omega Man snorts in derision, then pulls on his spliff, producing a single, small cough upon exhaling.*

JAY OMEGA: And in regards to your offer for when you lose, Sid? Well, suffice it to say, I'm not exactly eyeing the tag division any time soon, and quite honestly, if I absolutely had to tag with someone from this reality? I'd sooner resurrect the North Korean War Criminal; at least he's got a proven track record. But never let it be said I ain't a magnanimous sumbitch, so I'mma make a counter offer. If some biblical-level miracle occurs, and you walk out with the win, I will give you a lesser version of my personal device; one that doesn't have access to my reality-hopping starship.

*Jay taps the ash from his blunt into an ashtray on his bedside table, and takes another hit.*

JAY OMEGA: But when you lose - and make no mistake, Sidney, you will lose - rather than be an on-call tag partner, I want you to spend a week as part of my crew. You will either grow, and accept that more is possible than you ever realized, or one of my wives will get sick of your shit attitude, and beat some humility into you. If that happens, pray it's Evelyn; she's less likely to break bones. Fuck, it feels weird to think that I'm the least violent member of my marriage triad. Oh, but don't let that get your hopes up, Sid; unlike my wives, you are neither a proficient assassin, nor an alien from a high-gravity world who possesses twice the strength of a baseline human. If I can spar with them and hold my own, some decrepit crone who has to down a bottle of Jack to work up enough moisture that she doesn't fart dust is barely gonna slow me down.

*Another cloud of pinkish smoke wafts its way toward the ceiling, and Omega shifts position, sitting up and leaning back against the headboard.*

JAY OMEGA: You think a brief stop in your world is where my journey ends, Sid? Nuh-uh. I will conquer your world, then show you mine. Just like Old Yeller, you should prepare to have your mind blown.

*The Omega Man makes the universal "cut" motion, and the scene fades to black.*

~The Abominable Hunt was a sham. There had never been a winner, because anyone who managed to find and kill the creature of legend was ensnared by the true power behind the Hunt. For centuries the ruling class of Tarhasim had knowingly sent innocents to a fate worse than death. Jay Omega knew the full story now - a twisted tale of timeless treachery that kept the elite in power - and the truth had filled him with a blinding rage. Once Melisandre had explained the Hunt was actually a sacrifice, Jay had privately vowed this would be the last time such an atrocity occurred.

  A hushed silence followed in his footsteps as Omega entered the Grand Hall; none had ever returned from the Abominable Hunt, though only those seated at the high table knew why, and that assemblage were all looking at The Omega Man with various levels of fear painted on their faces. Jay came to a stop just before the table, and swept a murderous gaze across the assorted councilors. Without a word, Omega drew the Casters from the holsters on his thighs and opened fire, swiftly and ruthlessly executing those who had failed to protect the people they were responsible for.

  A pained groan came from the fallen rulers, apparently Jay had missed a kill shot. Omega circled the table, crouched down beside the wounded Tarhasiman, and put one of the Casters against the injured man's head.

  "I believe you owe me some money," he said in a tight voice, "The prize was unimaginable wealth, right? Well, I'm a fairly imaginative guy, so it better be a lot of wealth."~