Ch. 1
As I rushed through The Trainyard and into Broken-Hallow, I could feel the tension fizzing at the back of my mind. I’d been on the edge of panic when the start of the tournament had gone the way it did, but so far this was actually the best performance I’d ever given. Who knew that playing a male avatar would have held me back when outside the tournament I only played as a female? Everything just felt more smooth and natural that way, I wasn’t working so much for my shots, and moving through obstacles just came second nature now. It felt right.
I nearly cringed again thinking of my idiocy, I can’t believe I’d made such a dumb mistake. A month prior to the tournament they had contestants upload the avatars they intended to use while competing (using the extra lead time to get a head start on marketing, I guess). I’d selected the same guy I used every tourney. Plain guy, fit, and kinda edgy. Honestly, just a popular preset I had tweaked, but for whatever reason I just couldn’t really get any excitement for playing him. Anyway, long story short, I fucked up and sent the wrong file, and instead of him, they got the avatar I use whenever I’m playing my usual game, Hunter’s Mark. My fault for not giving the files clear names, I guess (Note to self, change them to something other than “Avatar, and Avatarr”.)
What’s done is done, though. Thankfully, I managed to play off my change as a part of some new strategy. Having a small hit box or something, yeah. What was really throwing me off though was that Alex, the guy who always seems to be neck-in-neck with me, and gets on my last fucking nerve, is also playing a girl this year. I don’t know what he’s playing at, or if it’s just another way for him to taunt me, but I would not let it get to me. Even if I felt a little off balance around Alex’s new avatar.
A whizz and snap pulled my head out of my ass, and I flung myself behind a pile of crumbling masonry just as a hail of bullets raked where I had just been walking. Gods, this whole mixup really wasn’t a big deal, I shouldn’t be letting it get to me like this.
Rolling around the other side of my cover, I peeked out and down the sights of the rifle I had picked up. I smirked as I saw the figure of my assailant running through the open in a bid to get away from the tightening ring of the death zone. Slowly I let out a breath, squeezing the trigger up to the wall as I relaxed my muscles. He was free of cover, but it was still a decently long shot. Just as I let out the last of my air, I flexed my finger just so, and as the wall broke, my vision turned into the blur of recoil. By the time I had gotten back on target, he had already fallen in a heap, his body dissolving into a stream of pixelated light. The counter in my hud ticked down with another player taken out of the running. He’d drop whatever items and upgrades he had, but I already had what I needed to win this. As long as I could stay focused.
***
The player count had slowly fallen, several more by my own hand, as I carefully made my way towards where the death boundary seemed to be herding us. I liked to play it safe, sticking close enough to the wall that I was out of the thick of the fighting as I rode it in, but not so close that I was at risk of falling victim to it myself. I found myself playing more aggressively this year though, actively stalking the other players through the ruined buildings and copses of trees.
The player count slowly continued to tick down, though aside from a few moments of excitement as I spotted a player and stalked them my journey continued in relative silence. The quiet only broken by the occasional sound of distant gunfire. This was the part of the tournament where it was easiest to slip up. Getting high on your own success and becoming reckless, or simply growing complacent after not seeing someone for twenty minutes. Many a player had gotten into the final ten, only to get picked off over a dumb mistake.
I edged my way along a final ridgeline before the wreckage of an old castle that appeared to be our final battleground. I gave a careful eye to the area, trying to think of possible cover and hiding spots for my approach. Just as I was about to slip over the ridge, I saw a flash of movement near the castle’s crumbling wall.
Another player had taken shelter in some rubble, and in a blur of motion a dark-clad figure had slipped in and taken the guy out in a show of dominance that made me feel a little funny. It wasn’t until they stood up that I realized what I had seen. Apparently that dirtbag, Alex, had made it through all the fighting and was here in the final arena. I gritted my teeth, a mixture of anger, frustration, and something else flowing through me as I saw my chance to strike at that smug arsehole.
I brought my rifle up quickly, pulling Alex up into the scope as he stalked his way towards cover. I placed the crosshair between his shoulder blades and prepared to take the shot. Alex’s avatar was certainly a lot more shapely than mine was, a snug bodysuit hugged full curves, decorated by various straps that were as much for showing off the avatar’s assets (emphasis on ass, jesus) as serving as functional storage. Alex’s hips swayed, and inexplicably I hesitated just a split second too long, and he slipped out of sight.
I cursed, my face growing warm. What the fuck was that anyway? It was ridiculous, I shouldn’t be getting flustered over the most frustrating person I’ve ever met’s avatar. I shook myself, before activating the temporary active camo I had found and made the sprint across the clearing to where Alex was hiding. I’d get him this time.
The castle’s interior was dimly lit, and a crazed mix of tight winding corridors and open courtyards, all of it ready to fall apart beneath you at any moment. Beams of sunlight streamed in through holes in the ceiling, giving enough light to move easily, but plenty of shadows for others to hide in (I’m sure the audience found it all very cinematic and exciting. I mostly just found the glaring light hurt my eyes).
I spotted Alex several times as I stalked him through the crumbling halls, often seeing only a glimpse of him lunging, knife in hand, just prior to another subtraction from the remaining players. As much as he rubbed me the wrong way, I couldn’t deny how bloody good he is.
Making a few subtractions on my own in our game of cat and mouse (and yes, I’m the cat dammit) the remaining players had fallen to only five when a blaring announcement jerked me to a stop, my heart racing.
“Congratulations players! You’ve been selected to participate in this year’s challenge round! Survive together and win the greatest prize we’ve ever given, or die and settle for the original stakes. The choice is yours!” the booming voice said, just as a shock wave ripped through the castle, nearly knocking me to my feet. Through the window next to me I could only watch, stunned, as a towering monster ripped itself free from the earth, letting out a terrible screech like tearing metal.
The monster was covered in huge chitinous plates, and looked like a horrific mix between a starship trooper’s bugger (the original, not the 2042 remake where they’re all hot bug-girls) and a malformed tarantula. Dozens of red glowing eyes suddenly flickered open, and I could just tell it was looking right at me.