15 boys. 15 futures. 1 winner.
Technoblade, a 17 year old hitman, finds himself sucked into a game by God where 15 people fight to the death until there is 1 winner, which will be crowned as the world's NEW God. It's every man for himself - And so t...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
✧༝┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉༝✧
DIARY USER 15 — JSCHLATT
Out of breath, he finds himself actually running, and he doesn't know why. He doesn't usually run— In fact, he never runs, which only makes him question his sanity even more.
His phone buzzes as he's jogging through the bushes, and he slows down to check. His eyes grow wide.
USER 4 HAS BASHED USER 8 TO DEATH. USER 8 HAS REACHED A DEAD END.
"Holy fuck," He mumbles under his breath, before talking louder, "Shit."
Somebody just died. Oh god, oh fuck. Somebody just died again, what the fuck? Why am I surprised? He narrows his eyes more at the text and thinks harder.
Wait, isn't 8 the same guy who killed Techno's friend? Captain Sparklez. He died? Huh, then whose 4? Christ, can't God just do me one fucking favour and tell me their names?
The stats to User 4 were released. He checks it.
STRENGTH: 2/5 INTELLIGENCE: 5/5 TEAMWORK: 5/5
But wait. Something doesn't seem right. Schlatt scrolls down and checks User 8— Sparklez' stats.
STRENGTH: 5/5 INTELLIGENCE: 3/5 TEAMWORK: 2/5
4 was ranked a 2 in strength, and he managed to take down someone with a 5. Is that even possible?
His train of thoughts are interrupted as he hears Techno yelp. He shoves his phone in his pocket and jogs over to Techno, who is now on the ground. In front of Techno stands a...
"Well who the fuck are you?" He retorts, immediately regretting saying that as the truculent words sort of had helplessly slipped out his mouth.
Standing in front of Techno is boy around their age — Around 19, maybe — He has black hair and defining, purple eyes that fulgurate in contrast to his dark clothing. Around his neck is a golden necklace with a purple jewel.
His left shoulder and bicep and is wrapped in a damp cloth; and his face is bruised and scratched, and his eyes are bloodshot and glassy.
"I've come in peace," AntVenom declares, panting as he raises his hands; He looks down at Techno, whose face looks to be in a mixture of fear, shock, and resentment.
"I know, I know. It doesn't really look like that right now. I know you probably want to kill me instead," Ant continues, acknowledging his clearly non-passive expression, "But trust me when I say I'm not here to fight. I don't want to fight you, Technoblade. Or any of you guys, for that matter."
