The atmosphere in the Oval Office was thick, charged with tension that could snap at any moment. Centurion sat across from Joe Biden and Kamala Harris, the two of them staring at him, eyes wide with a dawning realization.

“Let me get this straight, Jack-” Biden said, his aged voice barely capable of more than a whisper. “You launched the nukes?”

The XWF legend nodded with a chilling calm. “Every last one.”

Harris gasped, her hands clenching the desk. “Do you understand what you’ve done Centurion? You’ve just condemned the world to destruction!”

Centurion’s steely gaze was unwavering. “I know exactly what I’ve done. Trump’s second term wasn’t just a threat—it was the promise of endless suffering. There was no coming back from it.”

Biden’s shoulders sagged, disbelief etched in his face. “But I wanted to watch Saturday Night Savage! Charlie Nickles was going to defend his ‘TV’ Championship!”

“You’re losing your mind, Joe. It’s all over. The XWF, our government, society: all of it. Trump was just a symptom. Financial elites now control all aspects of our society. Just look at what’s happened to the XWF!

An incredibly wealthy oligarch now runs the XWF, and he’s driven out all the “old guard”! He’s put his cronies in positions of power, even though everyone can plainly see they aren’t legitimate champions! He’s even brought in big names from Twitter to headline his shows, his “rallies” if you will: is this sounding familiar? People are silenced for dissent, free speech doesn't exist, the XWF has become a rich man’s playground. The corruption is rampant and unchecked.

And now, what happened to the XWF is going to happen to our entire country. I couldn’t let it happen. So I’ve given us a different ending—an ending no one can corrupt or twist.”

Harris’s voice trembled, “And what of the innocent people, Centurion? Those precious souls like Dadbod and Atara Raven, who could never hurt a fly?!”

“I knew there’d be sacrifices. But there was no saving this world. This was mercy, on a scale I hope you never have to understand.”

In the stillness that followed, a faint, ominous tremor pulsed through the room. Beyond the walls, an unnatural brightness crept up the sky, spreading its deadly light faster than sound could follow. The world was ending in a hushed, lethal glow—a final chapter written in silence, as if even destruction itself had surrendered to the quiet. The world was already ending, a final chapter written in fire, Centurion’s last stand against a future that he could not bear to let live.

This was his FINAL FANTASY!








Charlie awoke with a massive pain atop his shoulders. It felt as if the weight of the world had fallen onto his chest, but as Charlie opened his eyes he realized it was just a refrigerator pinning him to the ground! The Nickleman lurched to his feet, pushing the refrigerator to the side as he came to a stunning realization: those sicks cunts had stolen another victory from him!

The Nickleman kicked a dent into the side of the refrigerator before looking around the abandoned kitchen. The room was a grim mess of overturned pots and shattered glass. The floor was slicked with blood, hinting of the violence that had erupted. As Charlie glanced down he saw the corpse of the referee from his match with Dyson. The poor soul’s legs had been gnawed completely off.

“Serves him right. Should’ve had the decency to die before you counted to three!”

Charlie spat a fat loogie onto the referee’s corpse before stepping on its maggot-infested head. The weight of Charlie’s leg magically transformed it into a pile of cranial mush. Charlie then pushed through a creaking door into the dining room, seeing that it was the same unsettling space as before. The restaurant was still shrouded in dim light that barely illuminated the worn-down tables. The chairs were all out of place, completely strewn about the room as if a fight had broken out- except for one chair. Seated in the corner of the room was a figure hunched over a table—a ghoul with sunken, ashen eyes, its mottled, decaying skin stretched tightly over skeletal features, deep wrinkles etched around its hollow stare.

“Do you want to play a game?”

The ghoul directed its empty gaze towards Charlie.

“Talking to me, fuckface McGee?”

“Come, take a seat- I mean no harm.”

The ghoul gestured across the table, and suddenly a chair flew across the room and positioned itself at the table. As The Nickleman approached the table, he noticed a cracked glass chessboard with polished marble pieces atop it. As Charlie plopped down across from the ghoul, he noticed that all the pieces on the board bore striking resemblance to his so-called “peers” in the XWF.

“Now where did you get these?”

“I made them. I thought they would help us pass the time as the bombs drop.”

The Nickleman raised an inquisitive eyebrow but said nothing. Instead, his gaze was fixated upon the chess board. The pieces were arranged as if they were mid-game, with only a handful of pieces even left on the board. The black marble pieces on Charlie’s side of the table were clearly members of THE UNDERGROUND: Dadbod, Bam, and Wishbone all had their own miniature carvings. There was another black figurine dressed in a chicken costume. The chicken noticeably larger than his compatriots- he must fashion himself their king. On the other side of the board, the white pieces were arranged around their Queen: a Thaddeus Duke figurine. Game Girl, Dolly Waters, Cypher, and Madison Dyson all had their own white marble miniatures.

“I ask again: did you wish to play a game?”

“Why not? Get the rest of the pieces on the board and let’s start this baby up!”

“If only the world were so fair, brother Charles. Men like you and I? We don’t get to join the world at the start: we join the game of life at the end, when all hope is already lost. Only then is it your turn to play.”

“My turn? With only these dogshit Underground pieces? Fuck.”

Charlie closely examined his pieces, then moved his Tommy Wish directly into the path of danger.

“Why don’t you just take this piece of shit off my hands? Sacrificial lamb is the only play you can make with ‘Make-A-Wish’ on your team!”

“So much disdain for one utterly inconsequential man."

The ghoul used his Cypher piece to remove Tommy's figurine. As the pair play their pieces back and forth, Charlie's skin begins slowly transforming- aging, molting even.

“Inconsequential, huh? That freak cost my daughter her XWF Anarchy championship! I remember it like it was just yesterday, Fire and Ice all those years ago…I wasn’t there to protect her then, when he was taking advantage of her: but I’ll be there at War Games to seek her vengeance all these years later. Tommyboy is a fucking laughingstock who’s only kept around so the other losers who join this federation can feel better about themselves, because at least they’re not as bad as Tommy. Tommyboy is going to fucking Wish that he never signed up for War Games, because I’m going to show everyone just how spineless this self-proclaimed ‘Thug’ really is when I strip the flesh from his hide LIVE ON ANARCHY, just after his match against DA BING BONG TWINZZ! Because now that I’ve started thinking about it, I can’t wait until War Games to get my hands on that sorry sack of shit! I’m going to go to Anarchy to get a headstart on my homework against The UnderGround!

That useless moron can have all the forewarning in the world and he still won’t be able to stop me. He is now what he always has been and always will be: a sacrificial lamb. And by the time War Games rolls around, that little lamb will already be bleating out for his mummy.”

Charlie grabbed his Bam Miller piece and used it to knock the Cypher piece off the board. As they continue playing, Charlie's body continually degrades. His eyes sink slowly into his skull. His skin shrivels as it tightens around his decomposing corpse.

“Get your little Cypher off this board, I don’t want to see that sick fuck in my game!”

"You don’t like Cypher either?"

“Don’t like? Who the fuck likes childnappers? Cypher is scum off this earth, the walking embodiment of debauchery and villainy: and it seems like these days I’m the only one who can even see it. Or maybe, I’m just the only one with the balls to say it! Cypher is a sick and twisted fuck. We all know what people kidnap children for. And Thaddeus Duke is a suck and twisted fuck for letting that child snatcher hang around the XWF.

But putting that all child kidnapping to the side for literally one moment, because that’s where all these pussies collectively agree to put it for him- even then, Cypher is nothing more than a broken-down shell of himself.

You know how I know that? Because I’m the one that broke him.

When Thaddeus Duke realized that Cypher played a part in the snatching of his child, he called The Nickleman in to handle business. And that’s exactly what I did. One Devil Hook Drop to the brain and Cypher was never seen in OCW again. That’s the power I have when I match up against that sniveling bitch. And if we match up again in the War Games finals, big if- then I'll be ready to Devil Hook Drop his ass back to irrelevancy one more time.”

As the pair exchange moves, Charlie seems completely unaware of his ongoing transformation. The Ghoul eventually uses his Dolly Waters piece to take the Bam Miller piece off the board.

“And there goes my Bam Miller! Ah you cheeky bastard, I thought we all collectively agreed to just pretend Bam Miller doesn’t exist? I mean seriously, when the fuck do you ever hear anyone talk about Bam Miller? “Miller Time” was only ever going to last for 15 seconds- and his time’s long been up. It’s almost embarrassing, the way shriveled up failures try to crawl back into the ring everytime War Games comes around as if it’s going to restart their dead careers. And some might say this is one of those ‘pot calling the Kettle black’ scenarios, but I’ve never heard Bam Miller say anything that insightful or interesting before- and top dollar says he’s not going to start now.”

Charlie and the ghoul continue to play, until Charlie was able to use the Dadbod piece to sweep the Dolly Waters piece off the board. Charlie didn't even notice how shriveled and green his hand had become.

“Dadbod always does the trick! And by that I mean, that man is practically a dog the way he follows commands and obeys his superiors. He’s bitch-made, suffice to say. I saw it firsthand in TRIAD. They told him they wanted their Strength trials to be sanitized, clean, and family-friendly. They said jump, and Dadbod just asked how high. I took a different route, and the sheep in this industry treat me like an outcast for it.

Good.

I’d rather be an outcast than an obedient little bitch. Warstein is going to tell Dadbod that he needs his Warcock polished before the show, and Dadbod is only going to ask one question: how deep?”

The ghoul immediately uses the Dyson piece to knock off the Dadbod miniature.

“Ohhh Maddy-fucking-Dykson. What a pampered bitch. I suppose Atticus Gold didn’t even bother to correct her blatant lies when he gave her the winner’s bonus after our match.”

Charlie picks up his final piece, a black marble figurine etched in the form of a man in a chicken costume. Before he plays the piece he brings it up to his sunken, ashen eyes so he can observe it more closely.

“Shawn Warstein, the last man standing…a fate etched into the pieces themselves.”

“Then The Underground is well and truly fucked, because when Shawn’s back is up against the wall Shawn always disappears. I’ve seen it myself, countless times. When Lacklan stormed down to the ring with her briefcase, Shawn didn’t even put up a fight- he knew the odds were stacked against him after Leap of Faith. She smacked him with that briefcase and sent him on a years-long vacation from the XWF. I don’t think he’s even asked to challenge for the Universal championship since! When the tough get going, Shawn Warstein just seems to get gone!

I wonder if Shawn’s showing up to War Games in his famous chickensuit costume, or if he’s keeping that one tucked away for his next battle royale appearance. This gutless boy-wonder is going to come into the ring with a lot of bravado, but once his teammates start dropping like flies his courage is going to drop right alongside them. Once Shawn finds himself there in the ring, with no one to protect him from the one and only Charlie Nickles, his War Games hopes will quickly fade away.

By the end of this match, Warstein won't be fighting to advance. He'll only be fighting for survival."

Charlie plays impressively with his last remaining piece, but eventually his chicken figurine is knocked off the board by  Queen Thaddeus. Charlie lets out a disheartened sigh as he takes the loss.

"Well that's enough games for me. I'm ready to find the War."

The Nickleman stands up to leave, but the ghoul gestures for his attention.

"Wait! Do not go, Brother Charles. We have spent so long playing this game, so much has changed..."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Just look into the glass, Brother Charles: and then all will become clear."

The ghoul gestures towards the cracked chessboard, which is now mostly devoid of pieces. The Nickleman leans down and stares into chessboard, seeing his new reflection for the first time. His heart sinks into the bottom of his stomach as he brings a shriveled hand up to caress his once-tender cheek. The ghoul rises with a sinister smirk etched across it's face. The ghoul places a decomposed hand onto Charlie's shoulder. 

"Worry not, because there is a place in this post-apocalyptic world for people like us. While we may not have been accepted by the world before this one, there is a new world that is completely ours for the making: and the Brotherhood of Ghouls will help us make it in our own rotten image!"

"Brotherhood of Ghouls? What's that?"

"BOG is a home for people like us...and soon, we will become LEGION! Now come, Brother: there are people you must meet. Caesar's don't depose themselves, you know..."

Charlie stares down at his ghoulish hands with dismay. The Nickleman looks towards the door with utter disbelief as this oh-so playful ghoul begins ushering him into a world unknown....