Author's Note: For moon jelly (lemoncom on Tumblr).
To summon Crazy Slots incurs a risk,
Nine-digit roulette wheel where fortune states
Which weapon you shall wield with pacing brisk
To cast Chimera Ants to death's dictates.
The number two's a scythe of silent waltz
In which Grim Reaper dances round and round
To slash attackers, minus any schmaltz,
And down they go, in pieces, without sound.
The third's a mace, reverse-gripped in your fist,
While fourth's a carbine, bullets loaded fast.
Each battle soon concludes in crimson mist,
In veiled regret for murders thus amassed.
The rare tenth's for survival at all cost,
But when it comes your head's already lost.