The Golden Assault Rifle and Other Weapons of Mass Destruction

The sidekick. The reluctant leader. The apocalypse nobody put in the calendar.

Toby is the stage hand of his friend group and he knows it. While everyone else is off mastering magic and training with swords, he's in the basement making coffee and rolling dice. Then an ancient prophecy drops into his lap. Something about a faceless hero, a Golden Assault Rifle, and a destiny that wasn't written for the guy who runs snack logistics. The dungeon of mayhem and death is about to find out what happens when the placeholder character stops accepting the role.

Petra has bigger problems. She's aged fifteen years inside a magical painting, her soul is duct-taped to a dead halfling, and she's currently shepherding a squad of teenagers through a swamp where the local wildlife explodes on contact. She didn't sign up to save the world. She didn't ask for a crown. But destiny has a way of ignoring your out-of-office reply and the Elder Ones aren't going to postpone the apocalypse just because she's exhausted, underpaid, and out of clean socks.

The stakes are cosmic. The snacks are orange-flavored. One sidekick will find his voice. One exhausted mother will find her crown. And Portland will never, ever be the same.