The Four Muscleteers

The Path of Muscles was not something you should laugh about. It was not something to be overlooked. In this world, the gods chose for humans. The gods decided their fate, and nothing and no one could escape it. No one had a choice in their life. Nobody could choose their own way, their own path, their own destiny.

Yet, it wasn’t a problem, nor could it ever have been one. Gods were almighty, and what they chose was chosen, what they said was said, what they did was done. From birth until death humans were their toys, and yet they couldn’t do anything about it – they didn’t even think about it. They just lived their lives without knowing anyone who had ever defied the gods.

Acceptance made them who they were, and the further generations went, the fewer thoughts of rebellion there were. The world’s immutable laws shaped them, defined them, tricked them into a certain way of thinking.

Some had more luck than others, and their lives were not so bitter, not so colorless. The Path of Muscles, as they liked to call it, was one of the lucky fates. Those chosen for it were stronger than average, more beautiful, more respected, more important. After they received the revelation at birth, they would develop their muscles with all types of exercises until they were so buff they couldn’t grow any more muscle.

They would then go help others, seek out monsters and kill them. And because they had received the gods’ blessing, they could make a chosen one into a new member of the Path of Muscles, training him and shaping him in their image.

However, there was one thing they could not escape: fate. If something was the way it was, it could not be broken the way they thought, or could not be broken at all. If a monster could not be killed by a sword but only by axes, that could not be changed. If a road had to be taken on horseback and not on foot, that could not be changed. And if an arena prohibited the use of weapons to kill an enemy, that could not be changed either.

The gods were the only ones to decide. No one had ever met them, but everyone knew they were there, watching closely how their game and their characters would act in the so-called game of life.

Yet, something was about to change, and three witnesses were here to confirm everything.

Inside the dome, the fight between Jeremys and the formless creature was still raging, though he was not doing well, and it was only a matter of time before defeat. From afar, Maxwell could only see blows striking, but it was impossible for him to distinguish the enemy.

He was standing on the other side, with Matos and Krotos lying on either sides of him but slowly waking up. In front of him, the wheel was turning faster and faster, just like it had the other times – the sickening sound of the arrow passing over every option, the colorful lights illuminating the dome only for Maxwell, not for the others.

The wheel stopped.

The music played.

The glorious feeling of victory.

“Oh my, my… what a great sweaty man you will be! Enjoy this reward!” The wheel shouted as Maxwell’s body began to tremble violently.

He collapsed to the ground and continued to tremble as if having an epileptic seizure, the wheel’s music still playing in the background.

Matos and Krotos, now fully awake, stared at him from where they lay. They watched as Maxwell’s body changed. His muscles grew larger, his skeleton shifted to adapt, his hair grew longer until it reached the bottom of his back, his jaw became more square – he became something else. He became a muscle man, he became… a sweaty and muscular man. His clothes tore, leaving him only in his underwear.

The trembling stopped, and he sprang to his feet, his gaze empty and no thoughts seemingly crossing his mind. His hand reached toward the wheel, which was slowly starting to vanish into nothingness.

“Look at that ass! Krotos! Look at it! I can already see him wearing one of our shorts, just to pimp up that ass!” Matos said, full of joy at the sight of Maxwell’s incredible body, his muscles shining as pearls of sweat rolled across them.

“Aren’t you more worried by what you just saw, Matos!? Even with shapeshifters, I’ve never seen anything like that in my entire life!” Krotos replied anxiously.

“We can’t worry too much about it! With those perfect muscles, he’ll be the perfect help for Jeremys!”

They stood up painfully as a roar came from Maxwell’s mouth. His fist was tightly clenched straight out in front of him, as if he were grabbing something.

He had grabbed one of the wheel’s rods, stopping it from vanishing. No sign of life crossed his eyes.

“An error has occurred! You’re not supposed to grab my rod like that… not without my consent first!” All its lights turned red, and the music became an alarm ringing only for Maxwell to hear.

Maxwell began forcing the wheel to turn to another option. It resisted, but it couldn’t withstand the strength of those big, juicy muscles for long. He stopped turning it when the arrow reached the sword option.

The jackpot music began to play once again, as if the error had never occurred. The wheel returned to normal, but Maxwell's body didn’t change. His thoughts were still drifting somewhere far away, his body moving on its own as a mouth appeared on the wheel and the handle of a sword emerged from it. He grabbed it and pulled it out completely before the wheel vanished in an instant.

He brandished it in front of him. It was a claymore – a large sword often used by Highlanders, those Scottish warriors. It was superbly decorated, and a golden light shone from the tip of the blade – far from living up to the name ‘Starless sword’ that had been inscribed on the wheel.

“Wait… wait… wait… Matos! How did he get that sword out of nowhere!? More importantly… how can he wield a sword in there!!?” Krotos said, completely startled and unable to move. He alternated his gaze between Matos and Maxwell, panic in his eyes.

“It’s… he’s special… he broke the world’s rules. It’s like… it’s like he’s choosing his own path.” Matos answered, his eyes shining as he watched Maxwell run quickly toward the monster.

The closer Maxwell got, the more the formless creature seemed to take shape. It was actually a goblin wearing a pink ballet tutu and fighting on its tiptoes, with the grace of a dancer – delivering powerful blows to Jeremys’ stomach despite its lack of big muscles and its small size.

Jeremys couldn’t do much in return because of its agility and speed, and he just took the blows as best as he could, waiting for an opening.

A few meters away, Maxwell stopped and anchored his feet to the ground. Leaning forward, he tensed the muscles in his legs as much as possible. He lifted the sword toward the goblin and, in an instant, using nothing but the sheer strength of his muscles, propelled himself horizontally through the air, shooting straight ahead like an arrow toward its prey.

A roar burst from him, echoing through the dome, and only then did Jeremys notice Maxwell coming at full speed. He took advantage of the fact that the monster had turned its attention to the flying sweaty man and used that opening to dodge and step back from what was about to happen.

A second later, the sword pierced the goblin’s body, and with the force of Maxwell’s flight, both of them were slammed against the wall of the dome. After the large dust cloud created by the impact settled, everyone could see that the goblin was completely crushed and reduced to pulp, its innards scattered everywhere.

Maxwell stood next to the sword, which was embedded in the rock. He wasn’t moving, and still, no sign of life seemed to cross his face.

Matos, Krotos, and Jeremys ran toward him, but stopped just a few meters away as Maxwell’s body started trembling violently once again for a few minutes, changing back to the way it was just before the sweaty man transformation.

Maxwell came back to his senses and stared in total confusion at the three men rushing toward him. Their heavy footsteps made the ground shake. They weren’t surprised – smiles spread across their faces, and joy radiated from them.

As they gathered around him, Maxwell tried to smile too, though his almost naked body shivered from the coldness of the dome.

“That was incredible, what you did here! You managed to clear this quest!” Matos said, pride in his eyes.

“How did you do that, Maxwell? How could you defy… well, never mind… you saved us.” Krotos added, still a little shocked by the situation.

“I must say, you surprised us. But you proved your worth. We’ll have some questions for you, though. For now, let’s get out of here before the dome shatters and the ceiling falls on our heads.” Jeremys said as he picked up the goblin’s eye and a piece of its tutu before they ran for the entrance.

Maxwell couldn’t speak. He was lost in his thoughts, still processing what had happened. Once they reached the horses, Matos handed him a blanket, and Krotos gave him a suspicious look.

They mounted their horses and rode back to the city.

“It’s not the best time to say this, but I’ll say it anyway.” Jeremys shouted to Maxwell, who was riding behind him, trying to hold onto him so he wouldn’t fall. “With Matos and Krotos’ agreement, we’re making it official – you’re now the fourth member of this group! I hope you like it! Thank the gods too!”

“So I’m now part of the four muscleteers… what a surprise…” Maxwell thought, letting out a faint laugh, his face showing not joy but confusion.

He looked at the horizon – the sun was going down, letting the moon take its throne in the sky as the stars lit it up.

“This wheel is… useful. Too useful. Too much. But… that’s not necessarily a good thing when it’s like this. I mustn’t use it too often. I won’t fall into this trap. This power it gave me… I couldn’t even control it. I was just watching without acting – a spectator of my own body. I’m scared of what terrible things it could have done to me while I wasn’t in control… and what could possibly happen in the future… even though these powers are so strong. I have to be careful… and discover little by little what I can do here.”