The year was 20XX, and the United States of America, once the self-proclaimed leader of the free world, had become its own worst enemy.
It all started with an egoist president, a man who campaigned on rage and ruled with greed. He promised to "Make America Great Again—For Real This Time." But his policies weren't about greatness. They were about power. About control.
The economy crumbled under the weight of corruption. Infrastructure collapsed. The rich hoarded resources, while the poor scraped for survival. The people who had voted for him—out of desperation, ignorance, or sheer stupidity—realized too late they had been sold a lie.
Then came the phrase that changed everything.
"Deny, Defend, Depose."
It started as graffiti on city walls. A whisper in underground forums. A chant in the streets. It was a call to arms, a beacon for the oppressed.
And it had a name attached to it.
Luigi Mango.
A man who shouldn't have existed. A man who the government feared more than war itself.
Some called him a hero. Others called him a terrorist. The government labeled him Public Enemy Number One, blaming him for the assassination of a powerful healthcare CEO—a man whose greed had denied millions access to life-saving treatments.
But there was a problem.
The evidence didn't add up.
The security footage was grainy. The photo of the alleged killer didn't match Luigi's description. And the timeline placed him miles away from the crime scene.
Was Luigi Mango even real? Or was he just a fabrication, a symbol people created to give their anger a name?
Either way, the world was watching.
Luigi was thrown into a high-security prison, cut off from the outside world. The government threatened to execute him if the protests didn't stop. But instead of quelling the rebellion, the move backfired. The people took to the streets, their chants echoing through the ruins of once-great cities:
"Free Luigi Mango!"
The phrase became a rallying cry, a symbol of resistance against a corrupt and broken system. Graffiti of Luigi's face—often accompanied by the words "Deny, Defend, Depose"—covered every wall. Protesters wore T-shirts with his name, and social media was flooded with hashtags demanding his release.
But the government didn't relent. They doubled down, deploying the military to crush the uprising. Cities burned. The streets ran red with blood. Yet, the people refused to back down. They had nothing left to lose.
As America tore itself apart, the rest of the world saw an opportunity.
Countries that had long resented American dominance began to flex their power. Nations formed new alliances. Old rivalries erupted into full-scale war.
The first bomb dropped on Washington D.C. at 3:42 AM.
By sunrise, New York was burning.
The president, in his final act of desperation, launched nuclear weapons at anyone he deemed a threat. China. Russia. The Middle East. Even European allies weren't spared.
The world retaliated.
Fire consumed the planet.
And then, the portals appeared.
During a brutal battle, a strange rift materialized on the battlefield—a swirling vortex of light and energy in the shape of a gate. The soldiers, the governments, the rebels—all froze. It was as if time itself held its breath. The smell of burning corpses and gunpowder still filled the air, but for the first time in years, there was silence.
More portals erupted across the world, their eerie violet glow illuminating the ruins of what was once civilization. Creatures of twisted bone and metal emerged, their hollow eyes glowing with an unnatural fire. In a matter of hours, the war stopped—not because of treaties, but because humanity had something far worse to fear.
Desperate to understand what they were dealing with, world governments formed a fragile alliance to investigate these anomalies. For now, the war was over. But survival had only just begun.
Back in the Chicago Wasteland…
Colonel Hamsterdam scribbled notes on a worn piece of paper, his mind racing. His once-proud nation was crumbling, and now the laws of reality themselves seemed to be falling apart.
"Lieutenant Candor, any news about the portals?" he asked, barely looking up.
Candor—blonde-haired, blue-eyed, and cursed with a face far too handsome for the hell they were living in—adjusted his wrist-mounted scanner. "There have been massive fluctuations in readings over the past few hours, sir. It's been ten days since the portals first appeared, and this is the first time the energy signatures have been this unstable."
Hamsterdam frowned. "Define 'unstable.'"
Candor exhaled, tapping a few buttons. "They're… changing. Growing. The emissions started as random pulses, but now they have a pattern—like a heartbeat. And there's something else."
He pulled up a holographic display. The data streams were erratic, but one anomaly stood out: a voice pattern buried deep in the signal.
A distorted message played, warped and crackling:
"Deposed... King... Rises…"
Hamsterdam's eyes narrowed. "Where is this coming from?"
Candor hesitated. "It's embedded in the portal residue. Like a memory trapped in the energy field itself. Sir… I think these portals aren't just holes in space. They're messages. Warnings."
Before Hamsterdam could respond, a massive explosion shook the command center. Alarms blared as the Chicago portal convulsed violently.
Outside, soldiers scrambled for cover as something stepped through the vortex.
A towering figure, humanoid but cloaked in iridescent armor, emerged from the shimmering void. The armor drank in the light, shifting like liquid metal. The being's face was obscured, but one symbol was burned into its breastplate:
A crescent moon pierced by a sword.
Candor's blood ran cold. He had seen that symbol before.
Luigi Mango's sigil.
The figure raised a gloved hand, and for a moment, the entire battlefield felt heavier, like gravity itself had bent beneath its presence.
Then, it spoke.
"You've seen the enemy," the voice echoed, ancient yet familiar. "But the Deposed King is only the beginning."
Candor took a step forward, his heart hammering. "Who… who are you?"
The figure's head tilted slightly. "The one you call Luigi Mango is not what you think he is."
Hamsterdam's grip on his pistol tightened. "He's a terrorist. A criminal."
The armored figure laughed, a hollow, distant sound. "No. He is a survivor. A man exiled from my world, thrown into yours by forces neither of us control. You framed him for your crimes. And now, the real enemy is coming."
The ground trembled.
In the distance, the other portals began to swell, their light darkening into a deep crimson red. Something else was coming through.
The figure turned, gazing at the approaching storm. "Your war is over. Now begins something far worse."
Candor felt a chill crawl up his spine. He turned to Hamsterdam, voice barely above a whisper.
"Sir… we need to find Luigi Mango. Now."
--Elsewhere – A Prison Facility, Unknown Location
Luigi Mango sat on a metal cot, staring at the ceiling. His wrists were bruised from the restraints, his once-defiant gaze dulled by exhaustion.
The guards had stopped talking about his execution date.
He knew what that meant.
They were either keeping him for something worse—or they didn't want to admit that the world outside was falling apart.
His cell hummed with energy, the lights flickering.
Then—a whisper.
"Luigi… Wake up…"
He sat up sharply, his pulse hammering.
"…They're coming for you."
The air shimmered, and for the briefest moment, he saw it—
A portal. Small. Faint. Struggling to stay open.
And beyond it—
A figure clad in iridescent armor.
A voice echoed through the void.
"Find the others. The war is not over. It has only begun."
The portal vanished, leaving Luigi staring at empty air.
Then—
The prison alarms blared.
Something was coming.
Back in Chicago
The first creature emerged from the collapsing portal.
Its skeletal frame was stitched with metal plating, its eyes burning with green flame. It moved with an unnatural grace, like a puppet on invisible strings.
Gunfire erupted, but the rounds disintegrated inches before impact.
Candor swore. "Sir, we need orders—now!"
Hamsterdam gritted his teeth, raising his rifle. He had fought wars. He had seen nightmares.
But this?
This was something else.
He took a slow breath.
If Luigi Mango is the key to all of this…
He turned to Candor. "We're getting him out."
Candor nodded sharply.
As the sky darkened and the portals roared to life, the fate of both worlds was about to be decided.