Day 30 — Sky-Bounce: Build a Ricochet Launcher

Goal: build a ground-based contraption that ricochets a ball so high it breaches the atmosphere (or at least the scoreboard’s “atmosphere” target). Each team gets one test launch; the highest recorded altitude wins. Simple premise, huge spectacle.

Mewo hovers above the field, sunglasses in place, folding his arms like he’s about to judge a very niche talent show.

Mewo: “You have four hours. Build, tune, test. One final launch each. Highest bounce wins. Physics matters — and creativity will be scored. Go.”

Dontavious Donquavious III waves pompoms for reasons unknown. The sky is clear; wind is light. Both teams bustle to their work benches.

Teams & Setups

RITUAL RULERS (calm, meticulous):

CassiLyn (Team Lead, runes) — designing the ritual-damped rebound matrix.

Noxor (tech/hacking) — sensor arrays, micro-thrusters, telemetry.

Kaibi (psychic support) — subtle psychic nudges to keep trajectory stable.

Wembry — precision button presser, nervous but steady.

Blobert — heavy lifter, brute stability.

Skrunkly — hyperactive spotter, sees hidden faults.

Caring Individual & Gayery — morale, crowd control.

BIG SHOTS (chaotic, impulsive):

Virian — moon-charge capacitor, noisy booster.

Luigi — careful assembler, surprisingly steady hands.

Golden Freddy — structural integrity, old-school sturdiness.

Middle Finger Cat — nimble operator, will sabotage nonsense.

Spamton — sales pitches, glitchy telemetry hack attempts.

Ernst Richter — (wait—Ernst was eliminated Night 29) — not present.
(Reminder: Steve, Junkil, Mercedes, Beans, Joe, Springtrap, and Ernst are gone; Big Shots are thinner.)

Both teams unpack steel ramps, tensioned slings, rebound plates, pneumatic plungers, and weird aesthetic flourishes (Virian’s moon-gems, Kaibi’s soft psychic halo).

Build Phase — heavy dialogue, tinkering

Noxor (to Cassie): “If we angle the rebound plate at precisely 18.7°, the micro-thrusters can kick the ball through trans-sonic layers.”
Cassie: “Good. I’ll weave a rune ring beneath the plate to dampen chaotic wobble on ascent.”
Kaibi (soft): “I’ll keep the mental wind steady — tiny nudges. Think of the dart throwing day.”
Wembry (hands shaking): “Okay… I’ll press when you say so.”

Virian (to Middle Finger Cat, bouncing): “We’re gonna moon-launch this thing! I’ll charge the capacitor and you’ll — you’ll do the cat things and make sure it doesn’t explode, ok?”
Middle Finger Cat (tail flick): “I will tolerate your moon-sparks. Don’t get glitter in my fur.”
Spamton (frenetic): “[[BUY—LAUNCH—UPGRADE—CLICK—GET THE KROMER BOOST—LIMITED]]” — then, suddenly, a quiet mutter: “We need a clean feed… if anyone can do it, it’s Luigi.”

Luigi (to Spamton): “Just… don’t sell the rope. Tie it.”
Spamton: “TIED. BOUND. DEAL SEALED. [[CONFIDENCE]]”

Ritual Rulers’ machine looks like a sleek cathedral of metal and runes; Big Shots’ contraption looks like half-finished carnival pyrotechnics with heart.

Testing — first small launches, crowd chatter

Small test bounces begin. Wembry’s hands tremble but each micro-launchgoes higher. Skrunkly squawks when she spots a micro-vibration; Kaibi calms the air psychically and the ball rockets straighter.

Noxor (grinning at data): “Telemetry’s clean. 0.9% variance. Good.”
Cassie: “Keep it that way. We don’t want a wobble at Mach.”

On Big Shots’ side, Virian’s moon pulses give the ball a gorgeous shimmer, but Beans isn’t here to add controlled chaos today — so they rely on golden Freddy and Luigi to steady the ramp.

Middle Finger Cat (muttering as she tightens a bolt): “If you break it, I will kill you. Softly.”
Virian (cheerful): “That’s the spirit.”

MID-CHALLENGE — the earth cracks open: Anzor reanimates

A distant metallic groan — then a sick, unnatural twitch near the old burial pile where Anzor’s corpse was left. The teams freeze.

Skrunkly (eyes wide): “What’s that click-click noise?”
Kaibi (tense): “Stay with your machines. Don’t engage.”

A patch of dirt shifts. A hand — mangled, dirty, unnatural — pushes itself out. Anzor’s body — the one that was killed earlier — drags itself upright. He’s… reanimated: movements jerky, face partially mangled but not described in gory detail, eyes like coal, mouth working. He stands, looks at the sky a beat, then at the two teams.

Anzor (voice ragged, hollow): “They left me.”
Skrunkly (hissing): “NOPE NOPE NOPE” and she scrambles behind Cassie.

CassiLyn (instantly authoritative): “Form a perimeter. Kaibi, mental lock. Noxor, diagnostic — is this tech or…?”
Noxor (fingers flying on his tablet): “This is classic reanimation signature. Not natural. There’s a soft field echoing in its molecules — like a parasite hitching a ride.”
Kaibi (firmly): “He is not himself. I will hold space. Bind the body.”

Anzor lurches forward, jerking like a puppet pulled by invisible strings. He lunges at the nearest contestant — Middle Finger Cat — swiping with a hand that barely registers as human movement.

Middle Finger Cat vaults, flicking her paw; the claw grazes Anzor’s sleeve but he keeps coming, relentless and inhuman.

Containment Efforts — frantic, high drama

CassiLyn chants at speed, her voice a blade of cold light:
“By the old rune, bind the bone and will, hold the shell where the darkness fills!”
Ropes of glowing script snake from the ground and wrap Anzor. He thrashes.

Noxor deploys a quick EMP net that crackles — it doesn’t stop motion but scrambles the reanimation field for a second. He shouts data and toggles settings: “EMP in three, two — drop!” The net fries briefly, buying time.

Kaibi presses his palm against the air, a psychic pressure like a warm hand on someone sobbing, and he hums low: “Calm… small… be still.” The pressure pins Anzor’s head down for heartbeats.

Anzor (stuttering, a snarl in the hollow voice): “YOU ARE NOTHING—YOU—” His words are fragments of old venom, not his own.

Spamton (for once, coherent and small): “Don’t let him sell you your fear!!” He lunges with a bracketed stability rope — and misses. Then the spam returns.

The teams struggle to hold him; Anzor is not rational — he’s a puppet of something else, but he’s strong. He tears at the rune-ropes.

Wembry (voice trembling): “He’s like a wind-up toy but angrier!”
Blobert lurches forward to hug him in a silly attempt at containment; Anzor grabs Blobert’s arm and throws him back — Blobert skids but is okay.

Turning Point — combined tech + ritual + psychic

Noxor shouts: “If we can overload his field with a phased harmonic, we can desync the reanimation!” He rigs the rover’s telemetry to broadcast a reversed polarity pulse.

Noxor: “Kaibi, when I flash, push hard.”
Kaibi: “I will. Brace.”

Noxor punches a key. The air vibrates with a high, almost lovely frequency. Anzor convulses. CassiLyn tightens runes. Kaibi throws a psychic anchor, holding the reanimated mind in a vise. For a long, petrifying second everyone holds their breath.

Anzor howls — a raw animal sound that cuts the air — then falters, like a marionette whose strings have been twisted. The reanimation field sputters.

Mewo drifts in, looking down with a small smile. “If you all combined ritual, tech, and compassion… you get a clean solution. Well done.”

With one last concentrated push — Noxor’s frequency, Kaibi’s psychic lock, Cassie’s rune grid — the reanimated body shudders and collapses into a harmless, inert heap of cloth and bone. Not gruesome; simply fallen, the reanimation ended.

Kaibi exhales, shaking. Cassie slides to her knees, hands on her lap, exhausted.

Aftermath — moral, check, and the final launches

The clock is still ticking. Teams take a breath, check each other, and patch morale.

CassiLyn (soft): “Check pulses. Check spirits. We finish. We finish for those who can’t.”
Kaibi (quiet): “I will walk the edge for a while. Make sure nothing else stirs.”
Noxor: “And back to our machines — we lost minutes but we have clean telemetry. Launch sequence, now.”

Both teams jury-rig final adjustments. Ritual Rulers add a small fail-safe: Kaibi will psychically nudge the ball through the stratospheric churn so it won’t wobble. Big Shots, shaken but fiery, crank up Virian’s moon booster and steady a mechanical clasp.

Wembry (pressing the final button): “Ready—”
Luigi (opposite lane, palms sweating): “Go… go go go…”

Launches & Winner — the big moment

BIG SHOTS fires first. The ball ricochets across a precision-tuned ramp, slams a rebound plate, and rockets upward with a moon-charged shimmer. For a breath the scoreboard lights up — significant altitude — then the ball wobbles and arcs off, peaking at an impressive but not record-breaking height. The crowd applauds; Virian squeals with glee.

RITUAL RULERS step up. CassiLyn gives the signal. Noxor’s sensors hum; Kaibi’s small psychic push breathes into the ball like a hand in a bowl. Wembry presses.

The ball pops off their rebound plate in a clean, perfect arc — telemetry sings. It ascends straighter, steadier, and pierces the scoreboard’s highest altimeter. For a long, beautiful second it seems to slice the sky itself before micro-thrusters kick and it vents into a controlled atmospheric drift. The altitude readout freezes: Ritual Rulers — highest bounce.

The island erupts into a mix of cheers and exhausted sobs. Ritual Rulers hug, clink hands, and cry with relief. Big Shots clap grudgingly, nursing their adrenaline and grief.

Mewo (smiling faintly): “Ritual Rulers win Day 30. Excellent combining of disciplines. And good containment work.”

Final Notes — tone, losses, and recovery

WINNER: Ritual Rulers (relentless precision + Kaibi’s psychic stabilizer + Noxor’s engineering).

Anzor was reanimated mid-challenge but was contained and deactivated by a coordinated ritual/tech/psychic effort. No graphic detail. His body lies inert and will be handled after.

Teams are shaken; the day’s success tastes of ash. Kaibi sits quietly with Wembry after the victory, offering a soft, steadying presence.

Spamton mutters bracketed spam about deals and then, very quietly, says: “We did something good.” He’s not entirely joking — the clear moments stay with him.

Middle Finger Cat walks across the field to nuzzle Skrunkly (a rare soft gesture), showing her development toward protective loyalty.

Blobie is still off-island (previously removed). The field remains tense but contained for now.

CassiLyn (to her team): “We succeeded — and we stood together in the middle of chaos. That matters.”
Kaibi (soft): “We protect what we can. We rest and rebuild.”

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