The heavily armored cyborg stomped forward snapping floorboards. The industrial blender strapped to one arm was set to maximum overdrive. The neon tubed chest lit through a light covering of oil. Gears clunked the second arm rotated forward leaking smoke.

“Hahah” it laughed robotically.

“What’s so funny? You armored NPC” questioned Edward.

“It is actually T.C.B.” replied the responding robocall.

The cyborg began shredding the edge of the checkered loveseat. Edward fled to the back exit. He swatted aside the lock with his crystal hardened stump, and attached launcher of ropes.

“I’m going to curb stomp a King” it said, in slow pursuit.

Edward spotted a Bootlicker running into an arched building in a station rapidly growing increasingly far below in distance. He hesitated at the edge of the deck. The fish waved from at least 100 feet below while the other struggled uncivilly with what appeared to be locked. They must have jumped off when the platforms had briefly interrupted routes with air rail. He spun round to loud grinding sounds. The tiny wall was quickly torn apart by a rotating blender. A continuous gust of flames lit the open air from the other arms. It swept the back porch. A tiny home attached to a moving air rail above a collapsed roof was ruined.

“You've been roasted,” said the cyborg, with both its armaments winding down.

“Where did my target go?” It asked itself.

The area was negative for king slaying. Edward responded by pouncing from above. The cyborg remained upright, but was kicked back through the woodwork it had previously chewed. The feet were braked by the cushion of flaming furniture. The chest leaked smoking fluids as the blender started noisily accelerating through the kitchen. Edward aimed and fired out wires from his launcher as it emerged for another round of action. His line had been grabbed in the whirring rotation.

“Caught you” said T.C.B., flaming the area.

The wires were rapidly rewinding. Edward turned and jumped from the platform into a swan dive. He was barreling towards the platform below. He was jerked screaming right before impact and flung back towards the spinning auger. The flames jutted over the side in anticipation as the ropes loudly protested, cutting partially into the wood.

“AAA” yelled Edward, shooting face first towards underneath decking.

He came crashing through cheap timber into the cyborg punched into the burning building, clanking and sputtering along the way. Edward found his arm hauled further up track before the wires were cut automatically. There were only three escapes he could think of quickly. Naturally he would gamble for the riskiest, but also best outcome of making it home. The reinforced metal legs clanked forward into the small area, cracking tiles. Its arm ripped apart a cabinet to gain clearance. Food and fridge trays littered in front of the occupied appliance with a sealed door just closed by hand.

“It’s barbecue time” T.C.B. replied, shooting flames from an arm thrower. “Sponsored by pure Elf propane” it broadcast after.

A stream of fire roasted above a sink, and gas stove. It began rapidly heating the outside of the refrigerator.

“BOOM!” The oven leak caught flame into an explosion.

The tiny house and platform ceased to be held by air rail. A rain of wood splinters and home insulation into a void of nothing, and an anchored housing platform beside it. The fridge fell like an anvil landing on the building. Edward was locked unconscious inside while he smashed his second roof, and through two upper floors in short order. Four Elves happened to be counting gold bricks in a small vault in the third. Three stood looking at the appliance impact zone in horror. The fridge door blew open leaking clouds of cold gas. The Elf boss shivered, and shielded their face with a briefcase.

“Watch yourself it isn’t a zombie gas to turn us rigor mortis” an underling quivered.

“Nonsense.. My noodles were in that this morning” scolded the Elf Boss.

A crowned head emerged from the fridge.

“He’s naked” shrieked the Elf underling.

“He’s still dangerous,” said the Elf boss, extending a hand in warning. “Where's our cyborg?

They began to tremble at the awkward silence.

“It was blown to bits” said Edward, his hand resting on his escape pod. “Now it’s high time you become escorted by me” he finished showing stump in threatening fashion.

The three Elves threw their hands in the air in defeated response. Edward turned to remove steaming charred knights armor from the icebox.

“I want a fancy suit boss, I need something to wear” demanded Edward, extending his lethal weapon.

“You will take a lawsuit from the one you crushed with a refrigerator is what you will do” said Boss Elf, stamping their feet in command.

“Ahh an accident caused by an industrial appliance equipped in the hands of your very own thoroughbred cyborg that did them in, but my royal insurance will cover regardless” King Edward replied, tearing off the bloodied pants sticking out from the crash.

“Here take these lets, trade” he said, throwing them at the Elf CEO.

The clothes hit a panicked target who threw their hands and screamed. “Whoever is the lowest ranked here will be wearing the soiled clothes” their voice got smaller as they ran away.

“Yes master” said the other Elves, who promptly followed their master.

Edward pursued them into the next area. An industrial zone full of belts, machinery, and cobwebs. A machine rumbled in the corner overflowing a hopper on the floor with gold dust.

“Ahh suits the greedy bastards,” said Edward, studying his captives working a combination lock in panic.

His plans to interrupt the Elves' plan was cut off by noise. The sound of jet propulsion, and grinding metal emitted from the ceiling. A sea of sparks dropped from the square hole cutter. An industrial attachment twisted an entrance for a jet packing cyborg to descend. T.C.B. had been flame broiled, with smoking plastic head covering melted, and clothing flaming.

“Thought it would be that easy” laughed the Boss Elf extending a triumphant hand to the sky.

“AAAA”

They screamed cut off, and ensnared in the launched wires. Edward held a hostage, with a sword to the throat. “Burn me baby” he taunted the hovering drone.

The cyborg’s low resolution predator vision of 16 pixels locked to the target. An S on the tier list for most wanted by Elves. It went crazy with sounds confirming the license to kill.

“NOOOO!” cried the Elf Boss as fire from their creation engulfed the area.

Edward whipped his stump launcher with the hostage, before dolphin diving for cover. The Boss fell forward still clutching briefcase. They screamed as the fire burned into bones, and fake leather.

“Haha you don’t discriminate with that weapon” he quipped, back smocking blackened.

A valve loudly squeaked, as T.C.B. slowly rotated in the air trying to track a sprinting target. A helmet slowly fell, while steam jutted from the rest of the soiled cyborg.

“Let’s turn up the gas,” it said, floating forward.

Edward ran into the next room chased by intense heat. The remaining four Elves scampered outside the next exit. A set of glass doors they reinforced with boards and nails from the other side.

“So your species is capable of working with your hands” yelled Edward, raising the stump.

He could hear the hiss of jet thrusters in pursuit. There was nowhere to go but forward. The area was filled with hanging bags of blood. Skeletons also hung in dusty plastic bags on coat hangers like dry cleaning. A tray of lab instruments next to a covered hospital bed bound with chains. Glass smashed and the sign with helpful bright colors and directional arrow read “morgue”.

The cyborg clipped through a wall and lit papers on a desk below that it broke descending to ground level. The walls rumbled with each cyborg stomp forward. Edward pushed aside two double doors. The steady stomps continued outside muffled. The small brick room was a dead end. The area was naked except for an oven marked crematorium above it. The large metal latch overhead opened, and the cool grate inside underneath a dark void calling. A single dirty red button hung beside the furnace begging to be pressed. There was only one place to hide in this area by crawling beyond the red tape warning. The stomps had grown in sound behind the walls where they stopped. The silence was immediately filled with the whirl of drilling wood. Soon splinters flew as the cyborgs' attached arm bore through the sole exit. It stomped in after.

“Where are you?” It asked.

“Right here” replied Edward.

He jumped out ringing the cyborg’s helmet with his stump from behind the frame. On the other hand still has a sword. He lunged forward for the kabob angled at a patch of exposed flesh. The jet pack activated in close quarters sputtering emissions, and moving it away. The sword rang the wrist of its user clanging off the cyborg's outer shell.

“Drats” cursed Edward, dropping the weapon due to debilitating arthritic sears.

The cyborg rocked into the far wall and continued the clanging. It had fallen awkwardly with flailing attachments. Sparks flew from the stone floor. The man retrieved his sword.

“Let’s finish this,” he said, cautiously approaching the killing position.

“Hahahaha” leaked with the oil from near the weaponized Elf.

When that was completed the thrower started firing, while flames bounced off the floor into the open oven. Edward jumped back with locks smelling of sulfur. The rotating arm of death had stopped grinding sparks, but now it was extending like a third foot. It pushed the cyborg back onto its others. The sharp auger revved forward into attack, as the jetpack shot it extending towards him.

Edward calmly loosened his body sideways into game position, and batted for home. The cyborg was driven directly into the open oven that the victor promptly slammed closed. With his remaining strength depleted Edward stumbled forward like a slchockomanic. He tumbled slamming into the big red button before collapsing. The metal door was being drilled as the cyborg was engulfed. Edward cradled himself and his ears on the floor. Inside on a rapidly heating bed of embers the loud scraping drill tried to escape burning in the crematorium.

Nearby and later on two knights rested their bones near the area’s single mangy tree. They were on the outskirts of the underground graveyard. A cliff to nothing was below their feet, and a cavern wall they rested their backs against.

“Ugh where do we go now” Vito sighed.

“Common sense says we should only follow paths that lead upwards from here on out” replied Mooseman.

“Yeah we’ve established we should stay away from that tunnel” said Vito, pointing to a dark passage.

It was unbeknownst to them that their king had ventured here into stock factory trouble.

“Here is where we wait for death to return or the king,” said Vito.

“Aye,” nodded Mooseman in agreement.

The cavern wall was beginning to rumble like a stomach. They jumped from the coffin they had been resting. A nearby section in the rocks pulled away forming an exit.

“What the farc” said the Knights in unison.

“Missed me?” a mysterious voice called from the darkness.

The knights lowered their swords until the Elves started emerging. “It’s a trap” yelled Mooseman, panicking.

“Yes it is your King speaking” the voice finished. “Lower your weapons if you want to escape” screamed Edward seething with rage as he power walked into the cavern. “These fellows will be accompanying us back to the telep”

“Oh” said Mooseman, and Vito.

Two Elves waved at them after walking forward. The party of five walked into the large deserted graveyard. Sinew, bones and other bits crunched underneath their feet. Otherwise it was quiet, except for the hooting of an owl. A thick mist overtook them, while a chilly wind blew in snowflakes.

“Now we have to play the fun game of retracing our steps,” said Mooseman.

“I believe we should be heading in that direction,” said Vito, pointing past the circle of tombs, and the mound of collapsed rubble.

They all followed the familiar path for some time until something didn’t figure.

“Where’s the gate out of the graveyard?” asked Edward.

“That’s just what I was thinking” mouthed an Elf.

“Over here” yelled Vito from ahead somewhere obscured.

“Where are you?” Asked Edward.

Mooseman ran out of the fog of war and pointed.

“Dead ahead king, you can’t miss it”.

Soon they had returned to the freezer where the saw was still with king's blood frozen between the teeth. The ice blocks were silent, and a meat hook was dangling far overhead.

“Now comes the hard part” said Mooseman, removing his pack to search within.

“I wish I could at least hold onto that rusted hook,” said Edward.

A switch flicked, and a chain winch began to rattle.

“What have you gone and done?” yelled Mooseman on his feet. He grabbed an Elf off a control panel and began to shake it. The meat hook lowered in front of them at crown height.

“Smack!”

Mooseman tumbled away from the Elf. He clutched his head on the floor with a bloodied “ughh”.

“That will be enough of that. those Elves are VIPs” said Edward, adjusting the cuff of an Elf underling tailored suit.

“Yes sir” mumbled Mooseman.

Vito was crouched to render first aid. “That was an overreaction from stress”

“Are you a witch doctor?”

“Well urm no..” said Vito, winding a bandage around a bald head. “He will be fine the real question is how do we climb to ground level when we took a slippery shute to get here”

“Easy” replied the bruised Elf, tapping a section of ice.

The freezer rumbled as a door opened revealing climbing steps behind the icicles.

“Come here often?” Asked Edward, grabbing the rusted meat hook, rattling the thick metal holding it from him. .

“No. You see we just have a superior tier of vision to humans” said the blue bruised creature limping away.

“I didn’t even hit them, you Elves are more fragile than our babies” grumbled Mooseman, standing.

“A natural reaction from abuse,” said the creature, taking a mirror from its robes that was shattered.

“Clink, Clink, clang” a knight's sword fell into broken pieces as a prize fell from a crane.

Edward laughed, screwing on a greatly downgraded hook to launcher. It had been tricky to figure out how to use the key to unlock the chuck accepting a temporary cutter instrument.

“Huff puff I’m getting to no longer be an effortless youth, “said Edward, spitting a frozen coating of phlegm on the last remaining step. The Elves lounged behind the knights crunched under exertion in the adjacent corner.

“I can’t believe we had carried you since the 13th or so staircase” groaned Mooseman.

“K Thanks” replied the Elves.

“Where now? If we’re lost babysitting these goons I’m gonna go mental” screamed Vito.

The Elves shook their heads.

“Don’t ask us”

“Well how about that superior vision ladies and gentlemen they see the same things I do, and tell the same lies as I” said Edward.

“Actually now that you mention it there’s a bright flashing arrow leading the way” said the Elf standing in gaudy pink boots underneath in matching robe.

“I see it too” said the second rising too quickly for anyone to catch scope of their footwear.

“Well well let’s be off” said Edward prancing after.

“I’m going to check my pack for grub. I'll catch up with you soon, here take this off my hands for now " said Mooseman, handing off his shotgun.

“Alright chief if you really insist” Vito mumbled like he was sleep walking, while following orders. Everyone else had long left them in the dark.

“Ahh finally some peace and quiet” said Mooseman, cracking open the lid of something pickled. He dumped the contents into his mouth and gulped it down in under five seconds.

“Burp I guess I’m top of a tier list in something alright” quipped the Knight.

“You know you will die unless you follow my advice” a shrill voice cut through the room like a sword.

A beady set of red eyes revealed themselves from the stairs. Then a painted theater mask covered in makeup, but from the neck down was rotten and disfigured jester garb half hooked with suspenders.

“I’m Snaggy. Now, listen to fools and secure your future. The teleport requires a knights sacrifice ensure it ain’t your noggin being digitally uploaded”

Clang! A direct hit from the sardine can.

“Out of jester no time for pranks” said the knight shuffling away after the party.

He crossed through what looked to be a machine underbelly. Pipes ran with every color of wire forming a difficult area to traverse.

“Hehe don’t tell you I didn’t warn you” said the Jester near an overflowing bin of trash.

Mooseman grunted, swinging his weapon that hit a target toppling.

Now rubbish coated the immediate area.

“Hehe” said the Jester cartwheeling into the dark.

A light ahead kept what little sanity was left.

“Hey guys where’d you go?” Called Mooseman.

“Here” a voice called around the bend.

The Knight rounded the corner and found himself in the familiar computer room among the others. The Elves stood over the computer terminal muttering strange things among themselves. Vito talked with Edward.

“No no” an Elf raised a finger in warning “This machine doesn’t have the necessary ram power to teleport anyone”

“Bummer,” said the other Elf, resting on a cylinder in one corner.

Without fair warning King Edward pounced forward into attacking. A bucket of blood splashed behind the slashed Elf. Their essence was absorbed, and the cylinder lowered. Two remained to be filled. The other Elf threw themselves into Vito's arms who dropped them. They crawled below the confused knight who readied his borrowed boomstick.

“Now I don’t want to shoot anyone, but there ain't gonna be any more knights who die on my watch"” said Vito, aiming at a crown.

“Uggggrlllglr” he sputtered, spitting blood in shock.

A blade pierced his stomach.

“Sorry buddy, but I wanna get home. I can't deal with no more bullshit” said Mooseman retracting his backstab.

"Fuck you" said Vito.

The remaining Elf cried in pain as Edward hooked them. The remaining cylinders retracted into the haunted temple.

“Alright man, welcome to the roadcrew” said Edward, fist bumping Mooseman. .

A surge of energy erupted in the center of the mainframe. The air was sucked into a hole that slowly opened.

“Remember to bring reinforcements to 12345 Killin Wood”

“Yes sir ill have to get a bearing of things when I reach the royal teleport station #17 and after that I'm so excited to join you guys on the bus it's going to be like a full time backstage pass”

“Zap!” Edward tumbled away into the portal.

He fell dodging other objects, and people on similar journeys. Arms waving towards a dirty body of water. The crown fell off, and he shot the hook in panic. A fast falling object splashed into a swamp. The water bubbled, crickets chirped, and frogs splashed for cover. A waterlogged man emerged to the surface. He struggled coated in mud choking from the flop. He spit water searching for breath. A dark shadow of a skiff on patrol burst into flooding light on his location. Edward was blinded by lights, while nearby voices called spreading the alarm, and waking dogs that began to bark hungry for the hunt.

“It’s mighty fine to be back home,” said King Edward, struggling through the mud he rewound his rusted hook.