All In(vincible): Chaos Gacha

[Max_Striker]

Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction work. All rights to Invincible characters, settings, and intellectual property, except OC, belong to Image Comics. This story is a non-commercial tribute created for entertainment purposes only.

The gacha system in this story is the Chaos Gacha by BronzDeck (go check out his fics, they're great).

Look, I'm not gonna pretend I had some tragic backstory that justified what I became. Born into money so old it had its own marble wing of the mansion, John was the family embarrassment, and honestly? I earned that title.

My siblings were out there launching fashion brands and crypto wallets, doing all that shit our parents wanted, while I was buried in manga and web novels, anything that wasn't another goddamn lecture about quarterly projections and maintaining the family image. The pressure to succeed crushed my soul slowly, like drowning in expensive cologne, and I fucking hated every second of it.

Though comics and all those Anime did help, but it was the Gambling that finally gave me air.

I can still remember my first basement poker game in Chinatown, clear as day. I watched these grown-ass men's faces twist when I swept three months' allowance on a pair of sevens, and something in my brain just... clicked and rewired itself. For the first time in my entire suffocating life, I was good at something without trying, without grinding and without my father's voice in my head going on about standards and expectations and not embarrassing the family name.

The high hit different than any power fantasy I'd read about in those manga. This was real and mine.

So yeah, the rich kid with the trust fund chased that feeling until the fund ran dry, then just kept chasing it anyway because stopping wasn't really an option anymore, was it?

By seventeen, I'd burned through nearly a million. Liquidated it, fed it to the tables like kindling, and I didn't even feel bad about it. Ming vases my great-grandfather smuggled out of China during some war I never bothered learning about? Pawned. Grandfather clocks that had ticked through generations of family dinners I'd been forced to sit through? Sold to collectors who probably appreciated them more than I ever did. Oil paintings of stern ancestors who'd built the fortune I was pissing away? Funded poker games and really, Who was gonna miss them anyway?.

But here's the thing about gambling addiction that nobody really tells you until you're neck-deep; it stops being about money fast. Like, really fast. Money's just fuel at that point, just a means to keep playing. The real drug is that moment between bet and result, when your entire existence narrows to the turn of a card, when your whole life is just suspended on chance, where nothing else matters, not your family, your future or even the fact that you're destroying everything.

Just that moment. That perfect, crystalline moment where you go 'ALL IN' and anything's possible.

I knew this. Yet I kept going anyway because what else was I supposed to do? Stop? Face reality? Fuck that.

My family caught me three weeks before my eighteenth birthday. They found the pawn receipts, the transaction history, the whole paper trail of our bloodline being liquidated piece by piece. Weirdly, they didn't rage, which honestly would've been better. No, they just waited, timed it perfectly like the calculated bastards they were.

"Happy birthday, John. You're disowned from the 'Fake' family."

Now I had no mansion, no trust fund, not that lame last name even. Just a gambling addict with six-figure debts to loan sharks and a family that erased him from the Christmas card like he'd never existed.

Which is how I ended up in Viktor's warehouse at 2 AM on my eighteenth birthday, watching a loan shark spin a revolver cylinder and wondering if this was rock bottom all those self-help books talked about.

The warehouse smelled like desperation and bad life choices which, to be fair, was just rust and old concrete. Viktor sat behind a card table missing most of its felt, the revolver spinning between his fingers like this was just another Tuesday for him. 'And maybe it was, who am I to judge a guy's hobby?'

The loan shark had fronted me hundreds of thousands over six months, just watching me spiral with that same clinical detachment you'd use watching a bug caught in a spider's web.

"You know why you're here." Just a statement of fact.

Yeah, I knew. Had known since my family's lawyer read the disownment papers with that professionally sympathetic voice. The debts weren't the kind that disappeared just because Daddy cut you off.

Viktor set the gun on the table. The tool was pure black metal, with its cylinder cracked open enough to see one brass cartridge nested among five empty chambers. "Russian roulette, you must be familiar. We play until one of us wins. Or..." Gold tooth catching the dim warehouse lighting. "You call your family. Beg real nice and maybe daddy feels generous enough to write a check to make his embarrassing son's problems go away. No parent could deny their child, especially on their birthday!"

I stared at the gun. Oddly, my hands weren't shaking, which was wrong, right? They should have been. I should have felt something beyond that familiar itch toward the bet, that pull that had destroyed everything I'd ever had.

"Kid." Viktor's voice almost sounded kind, which was somehow worse than if he'd been threatening. "I've done this plenty. Rich boys like you thinking they're tougher than they are. Make the call. I'll sweeten the pot and even spot you the first month's interest."

I reached for the gun instead.

Heavier than I expected. The grip had texture, little diamonds carved into metal pressing against my palm, and I checked the cylinder myself because I needed to see it with my own eyes. "Trust nothing, verify everything" - only lesson from dear old dad that actually stuck.

One bullet. Six total with five empty chambers. The cartridge sat in the third position.

One in six odds on the first spin. Sixteen point six-seven percent chance of death.

"Nice."

Better odds than yesterday's poker game, where I'd lost three grand on an inside straight draw like a complete fucking idiot.

"One last gamble." The words felt natural, like my whole life had built toward this warehouse without me realizing.

I pressed the barrel against my temple. Metal cold against my skin, and I could feel each heartbeat pulsing against it like my body was trying to remind me I was still alive…for now. My finger found the trigger.

Viktor shifted in his chair. "Wait, you're actually..."

I squeezed.

The trigger had resistance; it required real pressure, and for half a second, I wondered if I'd actually go through with it or if this was just another bluff. The mechanism clicked inside the cylinder.

Click.

Empty.

My heart hammered, and adrenaline flooded through my system, sharp and electric like lightning in my veins. My hands were shaking now, trembling as I set the gun back on that shitty card table.

That rush. That fucking rush. Better than any poker pot I'd ever won, better than any winning damn streak. For ten seconds, I'd existed in pure luck. Schrödinger's rich kid, huh?

The ultimate bet and I wanted more.

Viktor took the gun, his face now unreadable, spun the cylinder with that ratchet sound echoing through the empty warehouse, then pressed it against his own temple. His hand was steady, like he'd done this a hundred times before and would do it a hundred times more.

Click.

Empty.

Back to me. I grabbed the gun, lined it up. My hands had stopped shaking. The first pull was terror mixed with thrill and ran on pure emotion. This second pull was like muscle memory for suicide, and wasn't that a fucked up thought?

The cylinder hadn't been spun with two chambers cleared now. One-in-four odds. Twenty-five percent chance.

Click.

Empty.

Three chambers down, three more to go. Thirty-three percent now.

'This is getting spicier.'

Viktor took the gun, didn't even spin, just raised it and squeezed, and I realized he was playing the same game I was. Neither of us spinning. Both of us riding the sequence.

Click.

Empty.

Two chambers left with one bullet between them. Fifty-fifty now. Pure coin flip.

No skill, no tells, no edge to exploit. Just a threesome between me, Lady Luck, and a bullet that had my name on it or didn't.

I took the gun, didn't spin the cylinder because that would ruin the rhythm we had going.

I thought about my father's face during the disownment, all cold and disappointed like I'd confirmed everything he'd ever suspected about me. Thought about my siblings at their next family dinner with that empty chair no one would mention, as if I'd never existed in the first place. Thought about how gambling had never really been about winning for me, had it? It was just about that moment between bet and result where anything was possible, where I felt alive instead of suffocating.

Viktor's voice cut through. "Kid, wait, maybe we should-"

John pulled the trigger.

The sound was different this time.

Not a click but a bang that swallowed the whole world. I felt the impact before I heard it, felt my head snap with a whiplash, my body losing connection to itself like someone cut the power cord. It wasn't an instant shutdown as I thought it would be. It was like signals cutting out floor by floor, room by room, systems shutting down in sequence.

My vision already gone, but I could still sense Viktor's face frozen in shock or disgust or just that worry over how to recover his money.

The warehouse floor came up, and I didn't feel it, just felt the strange floating sensation of consciousness untethering from meat, from the body that had carried me to this stupid, inevitable end.

My last thought: 'Fifty-fifty odds, huh? Could've been worse.'

-x-

If you've followed my previous work, you know what kind of chaos to expect. And if you're new... welcome, you picked a good place to start.

I'll be striving to post a single chapter every day and provide my dear readers with Quality and Chaotic Content.

Also, I'm currently running a 50% discount for my Patreon till April 1st for anybody interested.
If you've got thoughts, drop them. Seriously, I read everything. And yeah… likes help more than I'd like to admit.

Check out 20+ advanced chapters on my Patreon.

 

[Djukez]

Let's Go Gambling! Peak has dropped, looking forward for more

 

[Max_Striker]

Let's Go Gambling! Peak has dropped, looking forward for more

Click to shrink...

Oh my Gosh! First comment for my Fic!! Glad you enjoyed it, my Dude and gear up for a crazy ride!

 

[Max_Striker]

The white void came gradually, like surfacing from deep water, and I wasn't sure if I was relieved or disappointed.

My consciousness flickered back in pieces, assembling itself from whatever the fuck comes after death. I wasn't sure I had a body anymore but the memory of having one lingered, phantom sensations of flesh and bone.

"Well hell." A voice echoed through infinity, sounding almost impressed. "Didn't actually expect you to pull that trigger."

The void assembled itself into a fucking pachinko parlour of all places, and this... being manifested slowly. He looked like a high roller who'd spent too many decades at the tables and had seen everything one possibly could and beyond. Flowing robes covered in dice patterns, yeah, but worn like a gambler's lucky jacket, the kind you never wash because it's on a winning streak.

His face was just a screen that shifted between states, sometimes a roulette spin, sometimes just cascading numbers and a gacha wheel, even, and he radiated the energy of someone who'd seen every possible outcome and still found the game interesting.

"Where..." I tried to speak, realized I didn't have a mouth, but somehow spoke anyway because apparently physics was optional now. "Am I dead?"

"Extremely." The being manifested a throne of gold and velvet, then dropped into it like he had all the time in the world. "Bullet went straight through. You were gone before you hit concrete. Viktor's probably still staring at your corpse wondering if he needs to call cleanup or if he can just dump you in the river like all the others."

I processed this. Huh. So I really did it. Actually went through with it.

But first, the sight of this being clicked something in my memory, "Wait, wait, I think I saw your image on a Gacha site…aren't you him… The RNGesus?"

The being changes his posture to be more dignified as he raises his screen of a face "Well, well, my reputation precedes me. Yes Mortal… I AM HIM"

Spoiler: RNGESUS

Just as John was about to bow in this being's reverence, he heard a small squeak, "Gahh… I said it…I've always wanted to say it….Bet lady luck will finally be impressed!"

All reverence and respect left John's posture as he cupped his face with both his face muttering "Wallahi, I'm finished."

Causing the beings to take a second to understand the undertone, and he spoke in indignation, "Hey, that's not even my religion, and for Allah's sake, be respectful, it's Ramadan after all."

Jay lets go of his antics for a second and faces his reality.

"So what now? Is this the part where I get judged for my sins or whatever?"

"Now?" The being leaned forward, and I got the distinct impression he was grinning even though his face was currently showing a deck of cards being shuffled. "Now I make you an offer. See, I'm what you might call a professional gambler. Been running tables since before your omniverse had logic. I sponsor players sometimes, send them places, give them tools, and watch what happens. Entertainment, you know? Gets boring being omnipotent if you don't spice things up."

"What kind of places?"

"Other worlds. Entertainment for me and the others." The being gestured and the void rippled, and I felt presences watching from beyond the edges of perception, like eyes in the dark. "We call ourselves ROBs. Random Omnipotent Beings for short. We get together, watch mortals try to beat impossible odds. Some of us rig the game, some make it harder just to see you squirm. Me?" He smiled. "I keep it pure. Pure Gamble that is. You get what the dice give you. No cheating."

"They're watching now?" as I looked everywhere but could only see those damn pachinko machines flickering lights all about.

"Oh yeah. Word got out that I found a kid worthy of my gift. You're trending in the group chat. The ROBs are taking bets on what you'll do next." RNGesus stood, and reality assembled itself around us like stage props. "They want to see what you'll do with a second chance."

A wheel materialized. Massive, easily the size of a building, covered in labels that blurred and shifted like a slot machine from hell or heaven, in my case.

I could feel the weight of potential worlds spinning past, and that old familiar pull started again. That itch.

"This is the World Wheel," RNGesus said. "Decides where you go. Could drop you somewhere easy, could drop you somewhere that'll kill you in thirty seconds. That's the beauty of it. Pure randomness."

I watched the wheel. Even dead, I felt that familiar pull. The gambler's instinct that had destroyed my life and ended with my brains on a warehouse floor. "And what do I get in exchange for your entertainment?"

"Ohh, haggling with Gods are we? Very well, I like cheeky brats like you. You go in with what the Chaos Gacha gives you. It pulls from the infinite selection from the multiverse itself." RNGesus snapped his fingers, and a smaller wheel appeared with Five sections, namely Abilities, Traits, Skills, Items, and Familiars on it. Along with that Three golden tickets materialised in my hands.

"It's the standard Starter pack. Three pulls worth of Gold rarity. Could be trash, could be super useful. Won't know till you spin, and that's half the fun, isn't it? The anticipation."

RNGesus spun a glowing coin across his fingers and glanced at John.

"And a quick rundown on Feats."

He flicked the coin into the air and it turned into three golden gacha tickets.

"A feat is anything impressive you pull off. Big fights, crazy risks, impossible wins. The kind of stunt that makes the ROBs actually look up from whatever nonsense they're watching."

John nodded. He already guessed the type.

RNGesus continued.

"So remember this," he said, tossing the glowing ticket to John.

"Do something impressive, keep the ROBs entertained, and the house pays out."

The Pachinko bar held its breath as I felt the ROBs watching, waiting to see what I'd choose, and I realized something:

I'd never really had a choice before. Family picked my life, decided what schools I'd attend, what connections I'd make, what future I'd have. Addiction picked my death, dragged me down until the only way out was a gun barrel. This was the first time someone offered me a real gamble with a damn real choice.

"Let's see what we're working with first," I said. "Spin the World Wheel, please."

RNGesus grinned wide. "Now you're speaking my language."

The massive wheel spun, and worlds blurred past:

Warhammer 40K (grimdark nightmare where everything wants to kill you, HELL TO THE FUCK NO). The Boys (too depressing and I'd probably end up as collateral damage covered up by some PR manager). DC Universe (reality breaks every Tuesday there, plus they have that strict rule of no killing, and I wouldn't gel with that). Marvel (cosmic threats on rotation and somehow even worse than DC). Worm (fascinating worldbuilding but Jesus Christ that's brutal). My Hero Academia (Ah, I could use this one). Naruto (Nah, Boruto ruined the power scaling for the verse). Solo Levelling (tempting as long as I don't get on Jin Woo's bad side and have him Mogg all over me).

The wheel slowed, ticked past danger zones, but then the friendly worlds, and I held my nonexistent breath.

It finally stopped on one label.

"Invincible," RNGesus announced as 777 rolled on his screen.

My stomach dropped, which was impressive considering I was pretty sure I didn't have one. Viltrumites. Fucking Viltrumites who could punch through planets. Omni-Man playing house while planning a Global Takeover. An entire empire of near-immortal warriors who'd conquered thousands of planets.

But... the world had rules. Clear power scaling and no reality-bending comic nonsense like DC or Marvel. Better than cosmic entities rewriting reality because they were sad or because a writer needed a plot device.

"Could be worse," I said, trying to convince myself.

"Could be way worse." RNGesus gestured at the golden tickets. "Now, let's see what tools you get. Rip and pray to me that you get something good."

I tore the first ticket, and text appeared in front of my eyes like a game interface:

[Call to Arms]

|Elite Ability|

Upon use, Call to Arms rolls the corresponding Familiar gacha to temporarily grant you a familiar to fight by your side for the duration of 1 hour, after which they will disappear. At 1 Ability Slot, you pull a familiar from the Bronze gacha, 2 slots = Silver, 3 Slots = Gold, 4 Slots = Platinum and caps out at 5 slots = Diamond Gacha. 24 Hour cooldown.

Note: Player begin with one Ability Slot, which determines the number of active abilities you can use. Each ability uses one slot. Swapping an ability triggers a 5-minute cooldown for that specific slot before it can be changed again.​

I suddenly felt a sting in myself as if elevating me from normal to everything beyond it, as I feel a connection to the Gacha Wheel more intimate than before, especially when I see the familiars in the possible options as if ready to respond to my Bec and call, albeit only to the rare and below types.

I examined this, my mind already racing through possibilities. Temporary backup with their Quality only increases as I grow my ability slots or whatever these are. Strategically flexible, but still, I could pull cannon fodder or could pull something powerful.

"Okay, this is... actually pretty versatile. I can work with this. But what are these ability slots and how can I grow them?"

RNGesus replies, "Oh right, I forgot to tell you. By default, you start with one Ability Slot, Ability Slots dictate how many abilities you can have active and use at once, every ability occupies a single ability slot and switching out an ability from an Ability Slot makes it go into a 5-minute cooldown before you can switch that specific slot again. By default you start with a single ability slot and gain a new ability slot every 5 abilities you have by default but you can decide to do it some other way."

I nod, "Hmm, that's pretty methodical to stop me from a power creep…"

Then I moved on to the second ticket and tore it as another screen appeared before me, as the Gacha hell rolls again

[Chaos Response]

|Elite Trait|

Your existence is chaos as defined by the chaos gacha, automatically causing feedback to whatever tries to peek into your existence. Future seeing gets scrambled and incoherent, abilities that try to read into you will malfunction and trying to read your mind will cause them a great headache at minimum.​

I feel a dome of sorts wrap around my brain and fit perfectly between the grey matter and my skull.

"A bit on the weaker side, but really good defernse," I muttered, thinking out loud. "Only helps against psychics and precogs. From what I remember, Invincible's more flying bricks and sci-fi tech than mental powers, but... better to have it than not. Blocks intel gathering at least. Can't predict what they can't see clearly."

RNGesus laughed. "Already thinking tactically. Good. You'll need that. And now the last one."

I ripped the third ticket without any ceremony as it turned to light and condensed into my arms as a vial of blue liquid.

[Modified Compound V]

|Rare Item|

The Boys - Upon consuming this, the drinker will gain a random ability from the Gold Gacha that they can use even when in ability storage.​

On the one hand, I was happy that I essentially got an ability roll without the need to use up an ability slot, but on the other hand, I was a bit disappointed, as if this was a normal ability it would have been sweet to increase the ability count and quickly get another ability slot to increase my familiar summoning pool from the gacha.

"This is the real gamble," I said quietly. "Everything hinges on this pull. One random ability that could save my life or be completely worthless."

"Exactly." RNGesus's grin widened, and I could tell he was enjoying this. "You could drink it now, take your chances and see what you get. Or..." He paused, letting the tension build. "You could ask for a reroll."

Silence stretched throughout the parlour as the Pachinko machines suddenly stopped.

-x-

If you've got thoughts, drop them. Seriously, I read everything. And yeah… likes help more than I'd like to admit.

Check out 20+ advanced chapters on my Patreon.

 

[king_kill]

He is a gambler.
gamble to the end.

 

[Max_Striker]

He is a gambler.
gamble to the end.

Click to shrink...

Yeah, he is

 

[Lillie Jones]

Watching with interest
Continue on
Cheers!