Chef in the Apocalypse

Jayce's consciousness felt as if it were being pulled away from his body, a disorienting sensation that left him momentarily bewildered. When he finally regained his senses, he found himself in a strange and unfamiliar environment. The first thing his eyes fell upon was a large pane of glass in front of him, separating him from the unknown world beyond.

His surroundings were like a booth, and he quickly took in the scene around him. The booth was small and confined, with a red button labeled "talk" situated in front of him. Beside the button were the words "#1 - Let Me Cook." Jayce couldn't shake off the feeling of confusion that enveloped him as he tried to make sense of his situation.

He looked around, hoping to find some clues or an exit, but his efforts were in vain. The space felt alien and surreal, unlike anything he had experienced before. Before he could gather his thoughts, the large pane of glass in front of him suddenly lit up, revealing a scene that took him by surprise.

Beyond the glass was a vast room, like an auditorium with a stage at its center. The room was grand and majestic, with high ceilings adorned with intricate chandeliers casting a warm and inviting glow. However, the stage that lay before him was currently empty, devoid of any individuals.

The walls were lined with shelves, filled with countless books and scrolls. Surrounding the stage was a multitude of booths, each likely similar to the one that he was stuck in, and in front of each booth, Jayce noticed a name and a number, but the occupants themselves were obscured from view, hidden behind the opaque glass.

As he observed the names on the booths adjacent to his, he recognized a few familiar ones – "#2 - Steel Heart," "#3 - Shadow Strike," and "#4 - Flame Caster." These were undoubtedly the supporters from the list that Rubick had provided the day prior.

Suddenly, as if conjured from the very shadows of the room, a figure emerged on the grand stage. Rubick, the enigmatic being, made his grand entrance, and the room seemed to come alive.

The slender figure of Rubick was draped in an attire that seemed to be made entirely of shadows, giving him an air of mystery and intrigue. His long, flowing coat clung to his frame, billowing like dark smoke with every step he took. The material itself appeared to be alive, moving and shifting as if it had a mind of its own.

His mask, a haunting sight, covered the majority of his face. With a wide, sharp-toothed grin, the mask sent shivers down the spines of those who dared to look upon it. It seemed to be a mixture of beauty and terror, an embodiment of both elegance and danger. Beneath the mask, blood-red eyes gleamed, peering out with a mesmerizing intensity.

Rubick's presence exuded an aura of power and charisma, commanding the attention of all in the room. The atmosphere shifted as he took the stage, and the room was hushed in awe.

"Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed supporters of Cataclysm: Worlds End!" His voice resonated with a melodious timbre, echoing through the vast space. "I welcome you all to this momentous occasion. Your unwavering dedication and support have allowed us to transcend the boundaries of worlds and bring this grand gathering into existence!"

His words flowed with a theatrical flair, each syllable carefully chosen for maximum impact. He moved gracefully on the stage, a dance of shadows and light as he addressed the gathering.

Jayce shuddered, seeing the creepy figure of Rubick in person had much more of an impact than just through his system. The slender physique and the flamboyant gestures paired with the creepy mask and shadowy coat painted a horrifying picture.

"I, Rubick, am humbled by the convergence of such extraordinary beings from Earth. Your presence here marks the beginning of a new era, the next expansion of our beloved Cataclysm!" The grandiosity of his words matched his flamboyant gestures.

"I extend my deepest gratitude to each and every one of you, for it is your passion and enthusiasm that fuel the heart of Cataclysm. Your unwavering support has allowed this convergence to take shape, and I stand before you as the curator of this grand spectacle."

"I'm sure all of you have some questions." He said, looking around the room at all of the booths. "However, now is not the time"

Before he could continue, a voice reverberated through the room. This voice had a filter on it, making the voice indistinguishable, were it not for the name that appeared on their windows. "#83 Oil Prince"

"Hey, whatever your name is. I have a question, why the hell am I only ranked 83rd? I spent over $100,000 US dollars on your shitty game." Despite the voice being masked, everyone could hear the accusatory tone attached.

Jayce's ears perked up, although he had spent a lot of money on the game, it was nowhere near $100,000. That must mean that the supporters were ranked by some other unit of measurement.

Rubick looked over to the booth, his red eye's gleaming behind the creepy mask. "Ah, one moment please."

Rubick suddenly removed his top hat in a sweeping gesture, revealing a bald head underneath. He extended his slender fingers into the depths of the hat, like a masterful magician pulling off a grand illusion. But instead of a rabbit, his hand emerged holding a massive hammer with the ominous word "Ban" written on it.

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to booth #83. There, the player who had ignored Rubick and spoken out of turn froze. His face turned pale as he realized the gravity of the situation.

"Ah, P-Please don't."

Without uttering a single word, Rubick swung the mighty hammer down with uncanny speed and precision. The force of the strike was deafening, creating a resounding boom that reverberated through the room like a thunderclap.

In an instant, the booth crumbled and disintegrated into a cloud of particles, his existence erased in an instant.

Rubick's expression remained inscrutable, as if he were merely fulfilling a duty, a force of nature carrying out its will. His eyes glowed ominously, causing the others in attendance to feel shock and trepidation.

"Ahem. Apologies for that, my esteemed guests. Some people just can't follow rules you know."