The sun was setting as Josh, Lauri, William, and their newest companion, Lojan, made their way down the bustling street. The city was alive with the sounds of cars honking, people chatting, and the occasional street performer trying to make a quick buck. Despite the unease that hung over them like a dark cloud, the lively atmosphere provided a brief distraction from the constant threat of danger.

  Josh's eyes were on the lookout for any sign of trouble, his hand never far from the hilt of his sword. Lauri walked beside him, her fingers absentmindedly twirling a strand of her hair as she kept pace, while William trailed behind, his gaze scanning the surroundings with a seasoned warrior's wariness.

  Lojan, on the other hand, was anything but cautious. The self-proclaimed "nugget" was back to his full self, limbs restored and spirit unbroken. He swaggered ahead of the group, occasionally throwing a grin back at them as if he hadn't been chopped into pieces just hours before.

  "Hey, check this out!" Lojan called out, pointing to a street performer up ahead.

  The performer, a young man in his mid-twenties with a tall, lanky frame, was dressed in a colorful outfit that screamed "look at me!" He had a boombox set up beside him, and a small crowd had gathered to watch his routine. The man was currently warming up, his feet tapping the ground rhythmically as he prepared to start his next performance.

  "That's the best this city has to offer?" Lojan scoffed, loud enough for the performer to hear. "I've seen better moves from a drunk turtle!"

  Lauri rolled her eyes, giving Lojan a nudge. "Why do you always have to be such a jerk?"

  Lojan grinned, unrepentant. "Hey, I'm just saying it like it is. The guy's got no rhythm!"

  But the performer didn't seem fazed by Lojan's taunts. In fact, he looked up at them with a smirk of his own, as if he had been expecting something like this. The crowd began to murmur, sensing that something was about to go down.

  The man took a step forward, his eyes locking onto Lojan. "Three seconds," he said, his voice carrying an air of arrogance. "In three seconds, when my song begins, you all die."

  Josh, Lauri, and William tensed, their instincts screaming that this was no ordinary street performer. Even Lojan's smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure, brushing off the threat with a wave of his hand.

  "Die? You're joking, right?" Lojan laughed, but there was a hint of unease in his voice.

  The performer's smirk widened. "Oh, I'm dead serious. The name's Joomy McFonderlu, and you're about to witness the most epic dance battle of your lives."

  William stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. "I don't care what your name is, but you should know you're messing with the wrong people."

  Joomy ignored him, turning to his boombox and pressing play. The familiar opening notes of Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen began to fill the air, and as they did, Joomy started to move. His body flowed with the music, each step, each motion, perfectly in sync with the rhythm. It was mesmerizing—hypnotic even—but there was something else, something far more dangerous.

  Josh felt it immediately. A strange, overwhelming pressure bore down on him, like the gravity had just been dialed up to eleven. He reached for his sword, but his hand moved sluggishly, as if he were underwater. He could see the others struggling too, their movements becoming slow and labored.

  Lauri tried to summon her electricity, but the energy fizzled out before it could even form. William attempted to manipulate the metal around them, but the force kept him from focusing. Even Lojan, who could regenerate from anything, found himself unable to act, his limbs stiff and unresponsive.

  Joomy, however, danced on with ease, gliding across the pavement like a ghost. His eyes gleamed with malice as he sang along to the lyrics, his voice clear and mocking.

  "Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?"

  As the chorus approached, Joomy's dance grew more intense, each movement sharper, more precise. With a flourish, he spun on his heel and pointed directly at Josh, a malicious grin on his face.

  "In three seconds," Joomy repeated, his voice cutting through the music like a knife. "You're all dead."

  Josh tried to speak, to shout a warning to the others, but his voice was caught in his throat. Time seemed to slow down, each second stretching into an eternity as Joomy's dance reached its climax.

  "One..."

  Lauri struggled against the invisible force holding her down, her eyes wide with panic.

  "Two..."

  William gritted his teeth, summoning every ounce of strength he had to break free, but it was no use.

  "Three!"

  Joomy's final word echoed in the air, and with it, the music surged. The force that had been pressing down on them intensified, crushing them under its weight. Josh felt his vision blur, his consciousness slipping away as Joomy's laughter filled his ears.

  The world around them pulsated with the opening chords of Bohemian Rhapsody. The once-bustling city street now felt like an arena, the air charged with an energy that seemed to emanate directly from Joomy McFonderlu's every move. As he danced, his feet barely touched the ground, his body moving with an effortless grace that defied logic. The crowd that had gathered watched in stunned silence, entranced by the surreal spectacle unfolding before them.

  Josh, Lauri, William, and Lojan stood their ground, though each of them felt the weight of the pressure Joomy's power exuded. It was like trying to fight through molasses, every action slowed, every movement a struggle. They knew they had to act, but even thinking felt sluggish.

  Joomy's voice rang out, cutting through the music with eerie precision. "Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?" he sang, his tone mocking as he spun on one heel, a sly grin spreading across his face.

  Josh tried to focus, gripping the hilt of his mystical sword, but his hand felt heavy as if the weapon itself was resisting. With a grunt, he swung the blade towards Joomy, aiming for the dancer's exposed back. But Joomy moved in a blur, his body twisting in a way that should have been impossible. The sword sliced through empty air, leaving Josh off-balance and frustrated.

  Lauri wasn't faring any better. She summoned electricity from the nearest streetlight, channeling it into her hands. But as she launched a bolt of energy at Joomy, he simply pirouetted out of the way, his body moving in perfect harmony with the music. The bolt fizzled out harmlessly against the pavement, and Lauri's heart sank as she realized how futile their efforts seemed.

  "Come on, is that all you've got?" Joomy taunted, his laughter echoing as he continued to dance, his body weaving through their attacks like water slipping through fingers. "You're making this too easy!"

  William's frustration boiled over. He thrust his hands forward, metal from the nearby buildings responding to his will, forming jagged spears that shot towards Joomy. But the dancer was always one step ahead, his movements so fluid that the metal spears seemed to bend away from him, their tips scraping harmlessly along the ground.

  "How is he doing this?" William growled, his voice strained as he struggled to keep up with Joomy's impossible speed.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Lojan, ever the joker, tried to lighten the mood despite the dire situation. "Well, at least he's got moves. Maybe we should hire him as our choreographer after this!"

  But even Lojan's usual bravado was tinged with worry. He could feel the futility of their efforts, each attack missing by a fraction of an inch, each step Joomy took placing him just out of reach. Lojan had faced down countless enemies before, regenerated from injuries that would have killed anyone else, but this...this was different.

  Joomy's dance intensified as the song reached its crescendo. His body twisted and spun in time with the music, his movements so precise, so flawless, that they seemed to bend reality itself. The street beneath his feet cracked and buckled with every step, the air around him shimmering with the force of his power.

  Josh, Lauri, William, and Lojan tried everything they could think of, each of them attacking from different angles, using every trick and technique they had. But Joomy was untouchable, his body a blur of motion, his attacks unavoidable. It was like trying to fight a ghost—a ghost with rhythm.

  As the guitar solo kicked in, Joomy's dance became even more frenzied. He leaped into the air, his feet tapping out an impossibly fast rhythm as he seemed to defy gravity itself. He twirled mid-air, his eyes locking onto Josh as he descended with a devastating kick aimed directly at him.

  Josh barely had time to react. He raised his sword in a desperate attempt to block the blow, but the impact sent him flying backward, the force of the kick rattling his bones. He crashed into a parked car, the metal crumpling under the impact as he struggled to catch his breath.

  Lauri rushed to her brother's side, but before she could reach him, Joomy was there, spinning into a low sweep that knocked her legs out from under her. She hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of her as she gasped for air.

  William wasn't about to let that slide. He clenched his fists, the metal around him responding once more, forming a protective barrier around Lauri and Josh. But Joomy danced through the gaps, his movements so fast that the metal walls seemed to close just a moment too late.

  "You're too slow!" Joomy taunted, his voice a sing-song mockery as he delivered a series of rapid kicks to William, each one finding its mark and sending him reeling.

  Lojan, seeing his friends in trouble, charged at Joomy, his fists ready to pummel the dancer into submission. But Joomy just laughed, spinning on his heel and dodging every punch with ease. He was everywhere and nowhere, his body a blur of motion that Lojan couldn't seem to track.

  Joomy's dance carried him away from Lojan's furious assault, his body moving with a grace that seemed almost supernatural. "Is this the best you've got? I thought you guys were supposed to be heroes!" he shouted over the music, his laughter filling the air.

  The song was nearing its end, the iconic guitar solo winding down as Joomy executed a flawless backflip, landing lightly on his feet. He turned to face the group, a confident smirk on his face as he struck a pose.

  Josh, Lauri, William, and Lojan were battered, bruised, and exhausted, but they weren't out of the fight yet. They knew they had to figure out a way to break through Joomy's defenses, to land a hit before it was too late.

  But as the final notes of the song played, Joomy's smirk widened. "Too late, losers. You'll never touch me."

  And with that, the song ended, the last note ringing out as Joomy stood there, perfectly poised, waiting for the next round.

  The world around them blurred as the opening notes of Bohemian Rhapsody began again, the haunting melody filling the air. Joomy McFonderlu took his stance, his body already swaying to the rhythm. His grin was wide, confident, and yet there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—something deeper.

  As the music played, Joomy's mind began to drift, carried away by the familiar tune. He wasn't here, on this cracked, war-torn street, fighting for 500 million dollars. He was somewhere else, somewhere buried deep in his past.

  Fourteen years ago...

  Joomy was in high school, an awkward, skinny teenager with too much energy and not enough friends. He was obsessed with breakdancing, practicing for hours in front of a cracked mirror in his small bedroom. He dreamed of being famous one day, of people chanting his name, of proving everyone wrong. But the reality was far less glamorous.

  "Look at Joomy, thinking he's gonna be the next big thing," a voice jeered from across the cafeteria. The other students laughed, their voices blending into a chorus of mockery.

  Joomy kept his head down, his face burning with shame. He was used to it by now. Every time he tried to show off his moves, it was the same thing—laughter, insults, and ridicule. But he couldn't stop. He wouldn't stop. Dancing was the one thing that made him feel alive, the one thing that made him forget how small he felt the rest of the time.

  Except for one person.

  "Don't listen to them, Joomy," a voice said, pulling him out of his thoughts. Joomy looked up to see Benito Garcia, his best friend, the only person who didn't treat him like a joke. Benito was tall, confident, and popular—everything Joomy wasn't. But somehow, they had clicked. They were an odd pair, but they had each other's backs, no matter what.

  "You're gonna be a star one day," Benito said, clapping Joomy on the shoulder. "They're all gonna see. Just keep doing your thing, man."

  Joomy smiled, a real smile this time. "Thanks, Benny. I don't know what I'd do without you."

  Benito grinned back. "Probably fall on your face during that windmill move."

  They both laughed, and for a moment, everything was okay. Joomy felt like he could conquer the world with Benito by his side.

  Years later...

  Joomy was in his small apartment, watching the Power Royale on a beat-up television. He had followed every season religiously, but this one was different. This time, Benito was in the competition. Benito, who had always been there for him, who had encouraged him to keep dancing even when everyone else had given up on him. Benito, who had told Joomy that he was going to use the Power Royale to make both of their dreams come true.

  Joomy watched with bated breath as the camera panned to Benito, who was facing off against a man in a suit of shining metal—William Dangerfield. The tension was palpable, the stakes higher than ever. Joomy leaned forward, his heart pounding in his chest.

  The fight was brutal, both men giving it their all. Benito's ability to manipulate the distance between objects made him a formidable opponent, but William was relentless, his metal manipulation abilities making him a force of nature. The battle raged on, each blow more devastating than the last.

  And then, in a flash of metal and blood, it was over. Benito lay on the ground, lifeless, his body broken and battered. William stood over him, victorious, the crowd cheering his name.

  Joomy's world shattered in that moment. He sat there, frozen, staring at the screen as tears streamed down his face. His best friend was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it. The one person who had believed in him, who had supported him no matter what, was dead, and it was all because of William Dangerfield.

  The grief quickly turned to anger, a burning rage that consumed him from the inside out. Joomy swore then and there that he would find a way to avenge Benito, to make William pay for what he had done. And he knew how he would do it—he would become the best breakdancer in the world, just like he and Benito had always dreamed. He would win the Power Lottery, take the money, and make sure that everyone knew his name.

  He would make sure that Benito's death was not in vain.

  Present day...

  The flashback faded as Joomy snapped back to the present, the chorus of Bohemian Rhapsody rising in the background. The anger that had simmered in him for years surged to the surface, fueling his every movement. He danced with a fury that was both beautiful and terrifying, his body a blur of motion as he moved with a precision that defied belief.

  Josh, Lauri, William, and Lojan could only watch in stunned silence as Joomy's dance became something more—something almost supernatural. The grief, the rage, the years of pain—it all poured out of him, his body moving faster, his strikes more powerful. They couldn't touch him, and deep down, they knew why.

  This wasn't just a fight for Joomy.

  This was his revenge.

  Joomy McFonderlu was in his element. His body moved with the effortless grace of someone who had spent years perfecting every step, every beat. Bohemian Rhapsody echoed through the streets, the song now like a second skin to him. As long as the music played, he was untouchable.

  The others watched in a mix of awe and frustration. Josh Cruise clenched his fists, the mystical sword his father had left him feeling heavy at his side. Lauri stood beside him, her eyes darting between Joomy and William Dangerfield, searching for an opening. But every attempt to strike was met with failure. Joomy's dance was a flawless defense, his every move a counter, his rhythm too perfect to disrupt.

  "I can do this all day!" Joomy laughed, his voice dripping with cocky confidence as he spun and twirled. "The song's on repeat, baby! I'm just getting started!"

  He was right. The song looped seamlessly, over and over, each chorus feeding Joomy's momentum. Every time they thought they had him, he would slide out of the way, always a step ahead, always in perfect sync with the music.

  But then, something unexpected happened.

  As Joomy spun into another flawless move, the music cut off abruptly. His eyes widened in shock as the familiar guitar solo was replaced by silence. A beat later, a jarring, cheery jingle began to play. It was an ad—an obnoxiously loud, overly enthusiastic ad for a new streaming service.

  Joomy froze, his rhythm shattered, his moves faltering as the reality of the situation set in. The power that had made him invincible was suddenly gone. The cocky smile that had been plastered on his face vanished, replaced by a look of sheer panic.

  William Dangerfield didn't waste a second.

  With a flick of his wrist, William sent a thin shard of metal slicing through the air. It moved so fast that no one, not even Joomy, had time to react. The metal pierced Joomy's side with a sickening crunch, and he staggered back, clutching at the wound.

  "Argh!" Joomy gasped, his eyes wide with pain and disbelief. He dropped to his knees, blood seeping through his fingers as he tried to stop the bleeding. The music had failed him at the worst possible moment, leaving him vulnerable and exposed.

  William walked over slowly, his face devoid of emotion as he looked down at Joomy. There was no gloating, no sense of victory. This wasn't a moment of triumph for him—just another necessary step in the chaos that was the Power Lottery.

  Joomy's breathing became ragged as he looked up at William, his vision starting to blur. The pain was overwhelming, but there was something else in his eyes—something darker, something defiant.

  "Benito will return..." Joomy whispered, his voice barely audible. The words hung in the air, a chilling promise that sent a shiver down everyone's spine. Even in his final moments, Joomy held onto the memory of his fallen friend, the anger and grief that had driven him for so long.

  And with that, Joomy McFonderlu's body went limp, collapsing to the ground as the life drained out of him. The world around them fell silent, the only sound the distant echoes of the ad still playing in the background.

  Josh, Lauri, and Lojan stood there, stunned, their hearts heavy with the weight of what had just happened. This was more than just a fight for money or power—it was something personal, something that ran deeper than any of them had anticipated.

  William knelt down beside Joomy's body, his hand hovering over the wound he had inflicted. For a moment, there was a flicker of something in his eyes—regret, maybe, or sadness. But he quickly pushed it down, steeling himself against the flood of emotions.

  "This was never supposed to happen," William muttered to himself, though no one was close enough to hear him.

  He stood up, turning to face the others, his expression hardened once more. "We need to keep moving," he said, his voice firm. "There's no telling what comes next."

  As they began to walk away, Joomy's final words lingered in the air, a haunting reminder of the past that refused to stay buried.

  Benito will return...