By click 500, the nugget’s surface crackled with lightning. By click 1,000, a low hum emanated from the cabinet’s speakers—a deep, bassy om . Other arcade-goers paused. A girl with cotton candy hair asked, “What are you playing?” Leo didn’t answer. He couldn’t stop.
At , the screen went black.
And it whispers:
Leo’s finger healed. He blinked. “What was I…?”
“You have disturbed the primordial breading. The Omega Nugget awakens.”
But somewhere, in a forgotten corner of the universe, an Omega-level chicken nugget drifts through the stars, waiting for the next hungry soul with two dollars and nothing to lose.
5. 12. 27.
The One Who Clicked the Last Nugget