Decided to give my original Madness Project Nexus arena characters some art and little stories for shits and giggles~.

The first character I made, focussing on a melee build. This little guy was my first time playing Madness Project Nexus, and it did not disapoint. Darting around the AAHW outpost trying not to get mashed, I managed to get my hands on a baseball bat, and thats the moment I knew I wasn't going to be the victim anymore. Niko is an absolute lover of slaughter-lust that the Madness continues to quench. Enjoy~!

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Length: ~1050 words

Generation___: 01

Identification_: Niko

Designation__: Freelancer

Another delivery clone splattered across the road like all the rest. Shaking the still dripping blood from my bat I looked to the body pile, admiring my handiwork. Forty-one. The first was easy. It greeted me with a dumb grin while asking where forty second street was before becoming apart of the pavement. The next simply stepped over the last’s body to ask the same question. Its jaw ended up over the other side of the street.

As the bodies piled up, they became suspicious, but it wasn’t like they were hard to ambush. The only thing in my mind now was who was making so many freaking clones. They weren’t even armed or carrying any product. It felt like someone was testing them by sending them out on these doomed journeys. Trying to gauge their efficiency maybe? All they were achieving was filling Nevada with blank bodies that I was promptly turning back into dead bodies.

Steps ahead. No where to hide. Looking to the mess on the street I promptly dove into the pile I’d slowly been building. The bodies were still warm, slick. Some spilling out whatever was left inside them. Perfect cover, and there it was. Another clone, with the same, idiotic grin on its face. This would be too easy. It stepped cautiously towards the effigy of corpses I’d spent my morning creating. I coiled ready to strike, listening as it came ever closer.

“Golly, what a mess. Why isn’t this cleaned up? Does no one care about their jobs anymore?”

“I do~.”

The clone’s eyes went wide. It stumbled back, but too late. I launched forward, gore splattering the clone shielding itself. Ineffective. My bat took the front half of its skull, pulpy strands hanging from its face. The clone stumbled back before falling onto its front, blood quickly pooling around the body. Forty-two, and that was still far more gratifying than it had any right to be.

Shaking myself down to dry off dealt with the mess. These clones broke so easily, and yet they were the fall of Nevada. Clones to deal with every petty need. Clones to labour, fight and die for reasons people didn’t want to bleed for themselves. It made others lazy, incompetent, pathetic. That was their choice. It was when they had the audacity to say the clones were better fighters than I could ever be, that crossed a line. Looking back to the pile, I think I proved them wrong.

That pile was a problem itself though, one that proved I should deal with the source of it now rather than later. Following the direction of the clones I found myself at a pizza shop matching the clone’s hats branding. How covert. Drawing my pistol I moved towards my new goal.

I scaled the building. Finding an entry from above I slid into the darkness. Landing silently with pistol raised it wasn’t long until I found a way to the basement. Scanning a room full of stock, I could hear a keyboard being pounded at in the room beyond. Seems the Pizza Maker liked to model his clones the same way he prepared his dough. Pushing a can off the shelf the man responded to its clattering by cocking a shotgun and approaching the doorway.

“Oh-a hell no! Third time this week I am not-a playing this game today!” The gun barrel passed the door frame. “Where are you-a cheeky bastar-!”

The hilt of my pistol slammed into his throat, my other hand ripping the shotgun from his hands. The shotgun scattering across the floor behind me I drove my pistol into his mouth as I pressed him against the screen of the cloning vat he’d just been working at.

“Looks like you’ve been busy chief. What’s cooking? New and improved formula?” The Pizza Maker struggled briefly before going still. Silence permeated the air until he decided to disturb it.

“So, is this-a like, a robbery or you just-a waiting to blow my brains out?” I pulled the gun back.

“For the moment its twenty questions. Then I decide if I blow your brains out, and you’ll have to work hard to stay alive because I really want to blow your brains out.” The Pizza Maker twitched.

“Oh, shit, uh, how-a can I be of service to you-a today then?”

“You can start with explaining why you need so many freaking clones.”

“I need delivery men to get the food to-a the people, and these clones aren’t coming back you-a see? I thought if I send so many out, I can track-a the navigation error. I mean, they’re getting-a lost, surely. Not all of them could-a be getting dead so quickly.”

I took that as a compliment. Then pressed him for more.

“Feeding people? You trying to sound all noble to make me feel bad about killing you?”

“Look-a, you don’t understand-“

“And cut the accent. It’s not helping your case right now.” The Pizza Maker tensed in protest.

“But if I don’t-a have the accent they-a think the pizza is-a not authentic. It has to be authentic!”

“You argue a lot for someone with a gun to their head.”

“Listen. I supply people stopping Nevada from going pop, keeping us all alive. You can help save Nevada by making sure they get-a fed.” I scratched my forehead with the barrel of the pistol.

“Mm, not gonna lie pal. Think I’d rather call curtains for you and your cloning operation than work the kitchen with you.” Pressing the gun into his head the Pizza Maker got to the point.

“You’re no dough girl! I-a know your reputation Niko. I need to get the pizza to-a the people.”

“Delivery girl isn’t much better pal.” I cocked the gun.

“Wait! I need muscle! Mercenary! To protect my-a customer’s!” I lowered the gun. I needed a new employer, and this one might just network me towards even better contacts. Or targets.

“And I get to save Nevada at the same time? Say no more.”

“What? a-Really? Oh, that’s a relief. I thought this time-” I brought the gun back up.

“But once we’re done delivering those packages, I’m shooting all those clones in the face.”

“Hey as long as-a you don’t put any holes in-a me, we have a deal. Some of those lazy bastard boys deserve some lead in-a the head anyway.”

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