Toward the end of 2014, Builder Brothers Pizza renovated with an exceptional supply of ingredients, some of the most expensive in the market. After being around for nearly eight years, the establishment became more than just a family-run business, but one of the largest fast food chains in the world (not for the faint of heart).
Mr. Builder had finally won in some big money at a high stakes game in a casino, and after he received some more generous donations, he finally made a promise to quit and invest his time into the chain even more. And it worked perfectly.
Already, this was big news in the media. Robloxia and its players at the time hadn't seen the light of true Italian fast food (sometimes burgers if they were lucky), but such locations were scarce. Most fast food brands from the real world had no association with the moderators of Robloxia, so, at best, some sponsorships would happen from time to time.
But that would take years, decades even. And it would be put up only for a limited time.
Surely, no corporation would want you eating their products for free.
So, given that Builder Brothers Pizza was being paid by the top dogs of Roblox themselves and had grown rapidly, many players expected there to be usual prices you could get at your local fast food chain — satisfying, cheap, but filling. Nowadays, such a gut instinct would be called naive, but back then, this wasn't the case, and intuition carried the players hard on its back.
Once a new Builder Brothers Pizza establishment was opened in town and the customers were satisfied with what was on the menu, the brand expanded to multiple locations overnight. It seemed "good" at first, but if you looked deeper, it was far from it.
To put it simply:
There was going to be a shortage of staff.
Too many locations meant more work, and more work meant the need for hiring. To make things even worse, one of the heads of Roblox itself was reported missing shortly after. Given that said moderator was in charge of all the finances, Robloxia was on the verge of a financial crisis.
A company is a businessman by appearance, but an animal at heart; it took no hesitation for Robloxia's headquarters to ensure their finances were in place rather than the Builder Brothers'.
Knowing this, 24-year-old Elliot took Builder Brothers' financial position as an advantage, and quickly jumped on board in the food industry to help his family business. "How come you want to start making pizza now?" asked his sister, oblivious to Builder Brothers' financial breakdown.
"What do you mean?"
"You've never liked pizza."
"What are you talking about? I've always loved pizza."
"Yeah, when you were young. Nowadays you hardly eat pizza. Why start now?"
"Well, fair point..."
Elliot pondered how to respond: "Family is more important than anything else. You always support one another when the time comes. I'd expect you to do the same." It couldn't have been corny enough, but Elliot simply wanted to help his family. He wanted to be there for them, to make them know they could turn to him.
But most importantly, he wanted to gain experience. Because in truth, the family business meant almost nothing to him. Growing up in a wealthy home, hardly anything was actually exciting, and the idea of him finding success out on his own was his lifelong dream.
"He goes out for himself thinking we haven't provided enough for him," his father would say shamefully.
So when the family's fast food chain got bigger, when their finances resurfaced, and when they had grown to their greatest peaks, Elliot decided he had done enough; he made the choice to defy his family heirloom and seek out dreams of his own.
At first, he was nervous. But after the chain got a bit too big and Elliot wounded up having to throw hands with an exploiter (fortunately an innocent one) he was quite frustrated and bored more than anything. And after blacklisting his first customers for the first time, he decided it was time to put his skills to the test.
Mr. Builder had no intention of letting his only son run off. He stopped Elliot from working at the restaurant and ordered him to stay home for most of the day, lest he were to accompany him to a meeting where he would be monitored closely at all times. The more these precautions were conspired, the more heated the tension was within the family, and fights tended to break out between Elliot and his parents.
Mia would lock herself in her room to avoid the noise whenever this happened until Elliot stormed back to his own bedroom. The loud slam of the door was the only thing Mia needed to hear to reassure herself everything was going to be okay.
But after several weeks, Elliot had done the unthinkable. He was ready to finally move out. His bags were all packed, his underwear, toothpaste, shirts, and pants all folded in neat piles — Elliot was more than ready to go. And this time, no one was stopping him.
When his father realized Elliot had already made preparations to pack up and move out, he panicked even more. Elliot would usually argue back against his decisions, but he'd always stay loyal to the family; this was not something he would do. Landlords had been bribed, and arrangements had been made through outside forces. Mr. Builder had a large connection to the gambling world being a former addict, and while he had quit months prior, his influence was phenomenal.
Unfortunately, while the Builder Brothers' influence was large, it was still limited, and Elliot managed to move far away from home against all odds.
Upon hearing about these news, Mr. Builder grunted, sighed, and patted Mia on the shoulder; "He'll come back."
But at the age of 24, no man or woman would be stupid enough not to venture out into Robloxia.
So, Elliot got himself a job — it was relatively easy given he was Mr. Builder's son, and people had to capitalize off of his name — and bought himself a decently-sized house. At least, one he was happy with.
In no time at all, he had made himself more money, got promoted in less than a month, and was heavily liked by his co-workers. But unlike his original game, this part of Robloxia wasn't completely safe. Smeared all over the news, there was either controversy regarding famous figures within the media, and even several terrorist organizations making their rounds within their regime.
Elliot wasn't bothered by this until some of his co-workers began dropping like flies.
"What happened to the supplier?" he asked his boss. "You know, the Guest?"
"The Guest?"
"Yeah, I never knew his name. You know, the one who helped supply us the cheese yesterday?"
"Oh, Guest 1996. We don't really know the details. I'm planning to make an announcement to the team myself."
"What happened to him?"
"He was shot on his front porch. Don't know why."
Elliot stood there, bewildered. He never liked paying attention to all the drama on the internet, so things like this were a completely new experience to him. Then again, he reminded himself, stuff like this happened all the time. Today, it just happened to the shop.
Shortly after that, the pizzeria was closed down for the night to pay respects, and Elliot attended the funeral.
Not even a second after the funeral ended, the moderators had issued out several more protocols which could be read from an envelope strapped into everyone's mailbox. Elliot got home, took the envelope, and read through it.
He was almost impressed at how many precautions the once so mighty Robloxia now had to take.
***
By then, it was back to normal. Elliot took the subway home, got some rest, took about a week off, and returned to work like (almost) everyone else. But hardly anyone was focused anymore. Half of the employees who worked at the pizzeria — owner included — were all Guests, and with the Bacon Terrorist Organization being at large, it was almost impossible not to stay cautious.
Still though, up until May, the pizzeria managed to get along just fine. There were new customers, better PR, and working conditions within the area improved massively. As always, Elliot remained enthusiastic, having now been "freed" from his family's wrath.
"You think I should move somewhere else?"
"What?"
"Well, I've already got another manager planned to take over this establishment," said the owner.
"Do you have enough money to move?" inquired Elliot.
"Of course I do. I've got my eyes set on a house for my family already. My wife seems to like it."
"Is everyone on board?"
"My wife is. Not sure about the kids."
Elliot slid his tongue over his teeth. "Personally, I'm not sure if other games are even gonna be safe at this point. Where are you heading?"
"Mad City. Better protection over there."
"Everyone's going to Mad City. It's probably the best option on the list. Or you can move over to Jailbreak."
"Never liked that game."
"Who's gonna be the new manager?"
"Angie. For the time being."
"When are you leaving?"
The owner shrugged before going back to work, "In a week or so."
And soon enough, while the restaurant was still a success, many people just appeared to drop out.
But right after their "period of success," the owner of the shop had coincidentally been set ablaze inside of his home with his family. The police's autopsy heavily indicated the use of arson and gasoline. Perhaps the restaurant had been doing too well, and it just didn't sit right for the Bacon Army.
Again, almost everyday, Elliot had tried to remain enthusiastic. But now, it was impossible.
Better to close the shop out of respect, anyway. For good, this time.
***
Elliot leaned his head against the cool glass of the window, the city lights blurring into streaks of color as they rushed past. For some reason, another swat of police cars had just arrived at the house down the street.
He groaned and tossed himself over.
He really should've picked a better place to live in, he jokingly thought to himself. Knowing he couldn't get much sleep, he decided it'd be better to stay up for the night. It was a stupid choice, but one that was common at this point.
He just couldn't sleep.
He went downstairs and grabbed his laptop before returning to his bedroom. As if by reflex, he flicked through a number of news channels, each broadcasting the same thing.
"Police officials are trying to their best to contain the wreckage—"
"-aff have all been discharged—"
"—with authorities believing this was an attempt to mock Robloxia entirely-"
"-the terrorist organization has doubled in number over the past 10 years and the authorities are struggling to remain in control—"
"-all Guests have been advised to remain vigilant and stay indoors—"
"-It is believed there is only one last Guest in Roblox."
Elliot looked out his window once more, the army of police cars seemingly having gathered around a house down his block. Accidents were becoming more common, he deduced.
He shifted his attention to his phone.
Out of his own pride and free will, he had yet to give his family a call even after all this time. Was everything okay? I mean, they didn't call him back. Was Mia sad he left? Now that he thought about it, the more douchebag of a move his actions were.
But they never called him back, right?
Maybe that was an excuse for him not to call them back.
It was only reasonable.
Elliot sat there, pondering his options and staring out into space. All he had to do was pick up the phone and give them a friendly "hello" to make sure everything was okay. Was that so hard to do for him? Was that just something he hated doing most of his life? I mean, he always sticked to his laptop and never really checked his phone, so maybe that was the case. His phone was old, anyway, and he never bothered to upgrade it.
Either way, he wasn't calling.
He set his phone and laptop aside, stretched, yawned, and—
The phone rang.
Elliot stopped what he was doing for a brief moment and stared at it, not even bothering to let his hands drop down to his side.
Should he pick it up?
It's his family, most likely.
Why are they calling now?
They must want something from him.
Maybe help?
If it's his family, he HAS to pick it up. Maybe they're in danger. Family members stick out for each other, right?
This is so stupid. He dug himself into this hole, and he needed to keep his dignity.
He hesitantly stretched out his arm and took the cellphone. "Hello?" he muttered.
He was met with an unfamiliar voice. "Is this Elliot Builder?" asked a voice on the other end of the phone.
"Yes. Yes, this is. Who is this?" Elliot sighed internally, almost relieved it wasn't his dad.
"This is the police. We need you to come back to your hometown."
"My hometown?" asked Elliot. "What? Why, what happened? Is something wrong?"
"Your family's original business location. Builder Brother's Pizza, correct?"
"Yeah, that's its name."
"We think one of the servers in your game has just been hacked."
"Hacked?!" Elliot exclaimed. He remembered back when he was still working at the establishment, he'd faced an exploiter at one point, and it was already hellish enough. An actual hacker in this modern era would be catastrophic. "Again?! Is- is my family okay?"
"Your sister is fine. Your mom and dad are in critical condition. They're at the hospital. We don't currently have any contacts with them."
"And the pizza place?"
"It's in ruins right now. There's a fire."
Elliot's mind reeled. "Okay. Okay, I'll- I'll be right there. Give me a chance to pack up," he said. The voice on the other end cut off for a moment.
"Hello? Are you there?"
"Yeah, sorry. The connection's quite bad," replied the voice. "We've sent personal escort units to your home in Bloxburg. Moderation already dug up your address. You can sign the papers later. Will you be ready?"
"Right. Yeah, sure, I'll be ready in 10 minutes."
"I take it you understand our new protocols?"
"Yeah, I've read through it. I'll follow the instructions."
With how advanced technology had gotten, the more the protocols became quite common, and Elliot hadn't thought anything of it until then. So by the time Elliot had packed up and gotten dressed, the cars had already arrived; Elliot hopped in and it drove off. "How long until we get to the airport?" he asked frantically.
"30 minutes, tops. The roads don't have much cars anymore because of the new announcements."
"People are staying indoors more?"
"Yeah."
"So there's no traffic?"
"We're hoping there's no traffic. Did you make sure you pack everything up?"
Then, there was silence.
Elliot checked his bags, nodded, and got on his phone to give his family another call. No response. Like the man said on the other end, "the connection's bad."
"Hey, do any of you have a phone?" asked Elliot. The two men in the driver seat looked at each other, eyebrows raised. "Yeah, I've got a phone," said the one with a hat. "What? You need to look at Google Maps?"
Elliot tilted his head side to side, "Yeah. I've never been to an airport before."
"Didn't you fly from your hometown?" the man reached into his bag.
"Yeah, but not this airport," Elliot motioned to the road. "We're going to the one closer, right?"
"Yes, we are," the man handed his phone to him. "What, you wanna make sure we're going the right way?"
Elliot didn't know why, but that statement seemed a bit sudden.
"My phone isn't really the best. I only have one of the older cellphone models. There's no apps on there. I can't use my laptop if I don't have wifi, but last time I checked, Robloxia agents usually have a good hotspot," Elliot explained, gritting his teeth. Thinking fast, he went into the first news website he saw, frantically scrolling for the details.
He hadn't bothered looking up the situation because of his rush, but right now, he needed as much information as possible.
And to his surprise, there was nothing.
"Hey, mind if I do something real quick?" asked Elliot.
"What?"
"I need to call my girlfriend. We planned on going to a party together tonight, and I don't want her thinking I ditched her. My phone doesn't have any internet either, so can I?"
"Uh..."
"Come on man, I won't go through your personal contacts."
The two men in the front seat looked at each other and shrugged. "Yeah, sure, go ahead."
"Thanks."
Elliot scrolled through the agent's personal contacts and phone numbers without hesitation. Upon realizing his number, he dialed it in and waited for a busy signal message.
"Shoot. Busy signal."
"You can't dial her?"
"No. B-But I know another phone number," said Elliot. And this time, he dialed in his dad's. "Come on, pick up, pick up," Elliot screamed internally. He looked at the men in the front; he couldn't exactly see their faces, but by the looks of it, they were occasionally passing glances to him.
Were they nervous about something?
Elliot's suspicion doubled.
His dad picked up.
Elliot's eyes widened. "Critical condition my ###," he said.
"Hello? Elliot?" his dad asked on the phone. "You there? I was wondering when you would call—"
"Hey, now wait a minute, who's that on the—" before the agents could even finish their sentence, Elliot busted out of the car window and tumbled along the streets. The cab pulled over, and Elliot ran.
He frantically searched for a populated area. The streets they were driving by didn't have much life in them, and it didn't help that a gunshot had just whizzed past his leg.
Elliot stumbled and fell to his side, immediately clutching his knee as the two men approached him. For the first time, he managed to get a good look at their faces — and they never had one in the first place. "I'll admit, that was stupid of me," said the one with the hat again. "Guess I thought you were a random pizza guy. We'll just find someone else connected."
Elliot's eyes widened in fear as he heard the gun cock. "Hey, hey, wait—!" Elliot stammered, slowly crawling away. "Look. Look, I-I don't know what's going on or if I did something wrong, but this really isn't-" Elliot yelped in pain as his hand was crushed underneath a shoe, "-look, you want money? I know you aren't Robloxian agents. Builderman and Shedletsky are gone, nobody knows who's operating. Do you want money? I have a lot in my wallet. You can take my credit card, you can take my keys, you can take my—"
The gun is pressed against his head.
"N-NO! PLEASE, WAIT, I HAVE A—"
Two gunshots.
***
"-I have a family!"
Elliot slowly opened his eyes.
The air was a mixture of cold and warm. The sky was completely dark, and there was a foul stench coming from somewhere distant. Several cabins with lights lay in front of him, and he could hear a few voices coming in from somewhere.
"We don't know that yet!"
"Look, I have a wife and daughter at home. If we can just find a way—"
"-everything we've thought about, we've tried and we've all failed."
"We can't just give up. What, are we gonna just accept our fate here? And where the hell is the food at? 2X2 better have had a good catch—"
Elliot stepped forward into the light, adjusting his eyes. Slowly but surely, he could see four figures standing in front of him. At first, there was a slight pause; Elliot looked at his hands. There was no blood. Did he get lucky? How was he still alive?
A man in a black suit and fedora stepped forward with a smile. "Hey, buddy!" he said cheerfully, putting a hand on his shoulder. "So how'd you almost die?"
"What?"
"Well, 1337 almost died due to a grenade explosion over there. I almost died because my former love interest almost stabbed me through the heart. How'd you die?"
Elliot took a look around. "Where the hell am I?" he asked. "Who are you people?"
The man in the fedora opened his mouth to speak. "Well, it usually gives you some details in a letter—" he paused as an envelope manifested in front of the living room. Inscribed on it was the word ELLIOT, written in bright red blood.
The cutthroat gambler ushered him forward. "Go on," he said. "Read it. I don't really wanna explain."
Elliot looked at the others standing in the cabin; they shrugged. "Read it," they said to him in body language. "We're exhausted." Not knowing what to do, Elliot took the envelope and hesitantly looked at the first few sentences written. He made sure to keep an eye on the newcomers. He'd just came out of an attack, so it was better to be cautious.
He eyed the first set of letters.
"To whom it may concern," it said, "Welcome to Damnation."