Breach World Championship 2081 Part 2: Broken

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            Ryan spent the flight to New York on his phone.  Airplane design had advanced since the days of his ancestors, who would have had to deal with annoying interruptions in their ability to access the internet.  Ryan did not face the same inconvenience but felt like he was wasting that privilege.  He’d much rather watch a fucking movie, but he hadn’t been following the professional Breach season, and if he showed up to New York not knowing precisely who his opponents were, Jay would either be mad, or, worse, begin an exhaustive explanation of each and every one of them.  So here he was, about to spend two hours looking up information on professional Breach teams, wading through a lot of information he already knew from being a professional player to get to the parts Jay might quiz him about.

            Reigning Fire had won last year and was the favorite to win this year.  They played the Gray Fungus faction, which, in the lore, was an infectious hive-mind which had invaded the Milky Way through an interdimensional portal.  They now traveled the galaxy assimilating all life they encountered.  It was their evil that inspired the Terran Naval Marines to the extremes which sparked Red Arachnia to rebel against them.

            Unrelatedly, their Captain, Joss Turner, was the son of Thunderware’s CEO.

            Reigning Fire was an old team, and one Ryan already knew a good deal about.  Joss played as Huel-drark, an eight-foot monster whose right arm was a laser cannon.  He fought alongside an Avaggdon which was a spiky mushroom barnacle with the power to manipulate the terrain around it, a Xig’zah which was a spindly ball of arm-knives that set explosive traps, and an Ichaboth which was an amorphous cloud of fungal spores.  There was a link to some footage of them in action.  It was them picking on an enemy they’d isolated.  Ichaboth descended on the area, buffing the three of them with beneficent spores while they passed their poor foe back and forth like a rag-doll.

            Oh, by the way, they were probably cheaters.  At least, that’s what Maximillian Turner, who they’d fought against in last year’s final match had accused them of.  The footage of their battle, where Joss unexpectedly pulled out the perfect counter to one of Max’s items, had been torn apart and scrutinized by the internet.  No one had found a smoking gun, nor had anyone, including Joss, been able to explain why he happened to make such an odd item choice at the start of the match.  He claimed he was following a hunch.  Others thought it more likely that he’d used malicious software to smuggle in one or more “generic items,” which he could turn into whatever he needed when he discovered he needed it.  Breach-bot had detected nothing to indicate cheating at the time, but it wouldn’t be the first time the bot had been fooled.  One of only a handful, but not the first.  The fact that Joss was the CEO’s son made it seem just a teensy bit more likely for him to get away with this sort of thing

            But then again Maximillian, his accuser, was the CEO’s son too, so maybe that cancelled out.  He was the Captain of Ours is the Glory, who’d gone undefeated last year until their possibly illegitimate loss in the finals.  They played as the Legion of the Iron Star, who had invaded the galaxy through yet another interdimensional portal, one which led to a universe so old that all that remained within it were black holes and stars which had turned to spheres of iron over the course of a trillion trillion years.  Their society had long ago advanced past having needs of their own, so they dedicated their existence to traveling from dimension to dimension, distributing helpful technologies, destroying evil empires and rescuing galaxies from pernicious races like the Gray Fungus.

            Ours is the Glory had an odd team loadout.  Max played Occilo who was the second-biggest member of Iron Star, but had the biggest sword.  They also had a Terraemotus, who was a big magic user.  That was orthodox enough.  The other team members, though, were a Nullum, which was a strange bull-like thing on which other members, in this case Max, could ride, and an Armigeri, another support character, who would enhance Occilo’s fighting power.  It’s odd to have multiple support characters when you only have one real fighter.  Most teams had either three fighters and one support or two fighters, one support, and one utility character.  Then again, Nullum was a fighter in his own regard.  Mount or not, he did have the ability to breathe fire.

            Probably the third most discussed team was Pheonix.  They played Iron Star too, with a more orthodox team setup.  The notable thing about them, in the eyes of the public, was that they were assembled from a cancer support group.  Some friends who met at the group started gaming, and then entered a tournament, and things evolved from there.  They went up against Ours is the Glory and lost, but Max stayed in touch with them, and wound up using family money to pay for their treatments.  Intricate medical testing had since confirmed that they were cancer-free.  Their Captain could be seen praising Max to high heaven in interviews.  One piece written by an oncologist claimed all four of them would have been very unlikely to survive without the high-quality treatment they received, though a disclaimer at the bottom made it clear that this was native advertising.

            The last team that attracted a lot of public discussion was Sad Cake Binge Gaming, who Ryan and most others knew, first and foremost, as a group of comedy streamers.  They played the Pickciez, the creatures who emerged from the third and final inter-dimensional portal in the game’s universe.  The Pickciez were a comic relief faction conducive to the kind of performance Sad Cake Binge Gaming normally engaged in.  The fact that they could go out of their way to prank their enemies in matchmaking and still consistently win attested to their skill.  Of course, when it came time for tournament play, they got more serious, hence why they were also the current European Regional Champions.

            The rest of the teams were less notable.  We Rise as One played as the Terran Naval Marines and had the worst win record of any team in the championship despite marketing themselves on the fact that three of them were real soldiers.  Of course, having the worst win record of the eight teams in the world championship still meant having one of the ten best win records worldwide.  About twice as good as Ryan’s team had back when he was on it.  Dying Gravity were the South African regional champions.  They played the Pickciez and had a reputation for unconventional and inventive strategies.  Epidemic played Gray Fungus and had been the world champions of Breach’s junior league last year.  This was their first season in the senior league, and they were doing better than anyone had expected of them.

            Last, and probably also least, was Ryan’s team, the ironically named Unbroken.  They played Red Arachnia, and according to most of the coverage Ryan saw, consisted of Jayden Reece, a Dash, Sophia Jones, a Boost, Mitch Atkins, a Spark, and Lisa Dodson, a Zap.  There was only one article on the car crash, posted a few hours ago.  It ended by saying that “what this tragedy means for Unbroken’s championship bid is also unknown at this time.” ‘Also’ because the article had just explained that no one knew if Lisa would ever wake up from her coma.

//////////

            Ryan’s plane would be landing soon.  Jayden looked through his phone.  Prior to such an important event, he spent almost all his time researching, mostly combing through footage of the enemy teams at work.  He wanted to know their style, how they’d react to his choices, and how he could best react to theirs.  None of the teams in this tournament were new to him.  Most of them, he’d played before.  He’d lost matches against Reigning Fire, Ours is the Glory and Sad Cake Binge Gaming earlier this season.  The others he’d faced at some point in the past, except Epidemic.  He’d never looked into them that much until now but had been making up for that in the last few days.  Their style was polished, but with vestiges of what you might expect from a group of children.  They had a bias toward flashier tactics and over-relied on infection and other debuffs to prevent their enemies from countering bold moves.

            An announcer told Jayden that Ryan’s flight had landed.  A few minutes later, people spilled from the appropriate terminal, Ryan among them.  Jayden had started to forget what it was that drew him to Ryan, back when he felt drawn to him, but the sight of him was enough to remind him.  Ryan was tall, lean and tan-skinned, with adorable curly brown hair.  His eyes were green, and always alert, as if afraid to miss something important.  Jayden wished Mitch and Ryan weren’t the sort of men you had to choose between.  Ryan was a lot of fun.

            Jayden stood, and Ryan saw him.  They walked to each other.  “Hey,” Jayden said, waving, trying to sound cheerful.

            “Hey,” Ryan said, not bothering to sound anything but bored.

            “You said you wanted to go straight to the hospital?”

            “I’m glad you remembered.”

            Jayden was already working hard to hold in his irritation at Ryan.  At least he had the decency to hold it in.  “Alright.”  Jay had already ordered an auto to arrive a few minutes after Ryan was due to land, so by the time they got to the parking lot, it was waiting to pick them up.

//////////

            It suited Ryan that he didn’t speak with Jay on the way to the hospital.  Ryan just listened to music and looked out at the city while Jay watched endless footage of either Epidemic or Reigning Fire matches, staring at the phone with intensity that should have summoned lasers from his eyes to melt it.  Ryan tried to recall what he’d seen in Jay, years ago.  Where it concerned literal sight, that was an easy question.  Jay was diligent about his health and had the muscles to prove it.  But Ryan had met plenty of men with delicious muscles and none of them had kept his attention for long.  Jay had been so nice at first, so quick to quip back and forth with him, so interested in everything that caught his interest.  He’d been a furnace of passion, but now he seemed to have frozen over.

            Ryan was dwelling on Jay too much.  Just because he was right there didn’t mean there was any need to think about him.  Was this what Jay wanted?  Did he take pleasure in Ryan’s annoyance with him?  No, that couldn’t be.  He’d want Ryan in tip-top psychological shape for the competition tomorrow.  Maybe Ryan should have shared that goal.  Maybe he should have taken this seriously.  This was the championship, after all.  Didn’t the prospect of being the champion have at least some appeal?

            Eh, not really.  Ryan was looking forward to playing with Sophia again, though, and he had missed some of the trappings of tournament events.  Audiences were fun, even when they were against you.  Unbroken had a few fans.  This must be terribly exciting for them.  An old favorite was stepping up to stand in for his fallen comrade.  It would be a shame to disappoint them.

            Outside the window, it was just starting to get dark, and some of the city’s lights had come on.  In the distance, there was a giant arch, tall and skinny and sticking up over the skyline.  The lights covering it were blue at the peak, green near the middle, and faded toward red as they disappeared behind the closer buildings.

            They passed a giant Christmas display.  The tree was something spectacular: big enough to rival the city’s smaller skyscrapers.  On its tip, an eight-pointed golden star.  The tree was covered trunk to tip with bands of lights that shifted hues gradually and independently of one another.  Occasionally, two adjacent band’s colors would happen to match for an instant, and they would merge into a single band of color twice as thick as the others.

            Ryan changed songs.  Jay was still watching footage.  It was Epidemic.  There was a Mog’Inub onscreen, and Reigning Fire didn’t have one of those.

            The auto arrived at the hospital.  Ryan and Jay got out and hurried toward the entrance.  It was freezing.

//////////

            The hospital lobby was gargantuan and ornate, dominated by a central fountain where water trickled over a twelve-foot formation of sharp black rocks.  Jay knew the way to Lisa’s room from having visited her once before.  He led Ryan to the elevator, which they rode to the sixth floor.

            Lisa’s room wasn’t far once they got off the elevator.  It was whiter than white, and brightly lit.  On the far side of the room, a large square window overlooked the city.  Ryan could see the same Christmas tree they’d passed on the way here.

            Lisa was on a metallic bed.  An apparatus of six robotic arms hung above her, ready to respond to any sudden medical needs with swiftness and skill no human surgeon could have ever achieved.  Behind her bed, an apparatus of monitors beeped and buzzed.

            Lisa herself was clothed in casts.  A thick white brace held her neck in place, and a larger brace which reminded Ryan of a strait jacket seemed to be doing the same for her spine.  Purple casts covered her limbs from base to tip.  A bandage covered the right side of her face.  A bruise ringed her left eye.

            “Her spinal cord is severed in two places,” Jay said.  “They don’t know if they’ll be able to fix it.”

            Ryan approached the bed, not acknowledging him.

            “I’ll step outside, if you’d like,” Jay said, in an unusual moment of consideration.

            “I would.  Thank you,” Ryan said.  Jay left.

            It’d been Lisa that first learned what Mitch and Jay were doing.  With the benefit of hindsight, the signs were obvious.  Mitch was spending a lot of time around the team, and Jay was spending a lot of time alone with Mitch.  The possibility of what turned out to be true had occurred to Ryan, but Lisa had found it more difficult than Ryan had to suppress her suspicions.  After Mitch and Jay had been behaving suspiciously for a few months, she did some investigation.  Once she was convinced there could be no innocent explanation, she decided to confront Jay to hear his side of things.

            “I won’t deny it,” Jay had later admitted to saying.  “You know how things have been between me and Ryan.  Do you honestly think he’d even be that upset?”

            “Then why don’t you tell him?” Lisa asked.

            “I will, after the tournament,” Jay said, meaning that year’s U. S. regional championship qualifier.

            “Is that really what’s important to you?”

            “I thought it was important to all of us,” Jay said.  “Do you really think it’s a good idea to break up with him right now?  If Christmas or Valentine’s day were coming up, I’d wait until after those events to break up with him.  This is definitely more important than that.”

            Lisa pretended to be convinced by that line of reasoning but relayed the situation to Ryan later that day.  Ryan’s confrontation with Jay wasn’t as calm as Lisa’s had been and led to him leaving the team.  The others had been on his side.  If he had asked them to kick Jay off, they would have, but at that point, he’d already started having doubts about whether competitive Breach was something he really enjoyed.  Part of him welcomed the excuse to leave behind the stress, the scheduling, the intense practicing, and Jay’s constant nagging.

            Ryan decided it was better that he forfeit his spot to Mitch than to usurp Jay as team captain.

            Lisa approached him later, offering to give up her spot to Mitch instead, or leave along with him in protest, but Ryan told her not to do either of those things unless she really wanted to.  It seemed she didn’t.  Maybe she didn’t want to abandon Jay and Sophia.  In either case, their team was shuffled around to allow Mitch on, and the resulting version of Unbroken was creamed in the qualifier.  Ryan believed it was due to the switch, and that he would have won it for them if he’d been there.  He did have to admit, though, that this new team had found their stride since he left.  Never had his version of Unbroken made it to the World Championship.  Maybe Ryan was in over his head.

            Ryan reached out to hold Lisa’s casted hand.

            A loud buzz made him jump.  “Do not touch this patient,” said a speaker above the surgeon-bot.  “She has sustained injuries throughout her skeleton and moving any part of her body could exacerbate those injuries or cause internal bleeding.”

            “Sorry,” Ryan said.

//////////

            It was somehow already six before Ryan decided to leave the hospital.  He and Jay took another auto to the hotel.  All of the tournament’s competitors were given free boarding, and it was simple enough for Ryan to move into the hotel room that had been reserved for Lisa.  It was twice the size of a bedroom, with a queen-sized bed against one wall, a forty-inch flat-screen against the other, a mini-bar in one corner and a trio of chairs around a table in the other.  Ryan plopped his bags on one side of the bed and lay down.  He took out his phone.

            According to the internet, the party he was about to attend had been a thing for the past four years.  It was held at the Turner mansion.  It wouldn’t just be the competitors there.  There would be several members of Breach’s development team, some other VIPs from around the industry, executives from all of the companies sponsoring the tournament, a handful of players who came close to making it into the tournament, some fans who won a sweepstakes, and some fans rich enough to donate large sums to this year’s charity.  (“Habitat for Humanity,” who had been hard at work for decades trying to deal with the countless people who’d been displaced from coastal cities all around the world due to rising sea levels.)

            The party was Maximillian Turner’s idea.  He held the first one the first year he qualified for the championship.  Max was apparently no stranger to parties.  There was a detailed article about Max and his near-weekly gatherings on a website for rich New Yorkers.  At least for the sorts of people reading this site, it wasn’t hard to get oneself invited.  Charitable contributions were often solicited from guests.  Breach related imagery wasn’t uncommon, but the article assured its readers that the mansion was exquisite, and the parties not so unsophisticated that only a young adult could enjoy them.

            The article did a good job of maintaining the balance between seeming like a real rich person and seeming like a human being with a soul, but this might have been a front.  There were debates in the comments about whether it was okay that Max’s family had only been rich for a single generation.  You see, Max’s father had come from a family so lowly that it could almost be considered upper middle class.  The man had only became extremely wealthy when Thunderware found unexpected success in virtual reality gaming.  This apparently caused Max’s parties, and everything else about his public behavior, to be far less sophisticated and upright.  Also Max wasn’t white, but that had nothing to do with these people’s objections.

            Ryan didn’t even really want to go to the party, except it would be his earliest chance to see Sophia.  Also, there was a tradition where the eight teams that had qualified for the tournament entered a battle-royale match.  Ryan wasn’t going to make his team miss out on that just because these sorts of social events bored him.

            Ryan decided he was bored of the internet and switched to watching television, but after just ten minutes of some old Christmas special it was already time to go.  Ryan changed into some less casual clothes, used the bathroom, and went outside.  He met up with Jay in the hallway, and they left for the mansion.

//////////

            To Ryan’s Shock, Jay put down his phone to speak.  “When we get to the mansion,” he said, “they’ll want invitations.”  He seemed to think this would be news to Ryan.  “Max knows about our situation, so we should be fine, but you might have to wait outside for a minute if there’s a misunderstanding with whoever is checking them at the door.”

            “You’re on a first name basis with him?” Ryan asked.

            “Yeah,” Jay said.  “I’ve hung out with him some at events.  I think he’d been trying to make nice with me for some reason.”

            “Weird.”

            “He is, kind of, yeah.”

            Upon seeing the mansion, it was immediately clear to Ryan why the CEO’s son held so many parties.  He had to do something to keep all that space from going to waste.  Three people lived in this mansion, yet it was three stories tall and twice as wide.  Its outer walls looked like they were made entirely of glass, held in place by a grid of steel window frames.  One could see the interior of every room in the front of the mansion.  One room appeared to be a dining room, with a long brown table and giant gold chandelier.  Another might have been a library, though there were so many shelves that some of them must have been holding something else.  No one could read that much.  There was a giant fountain outside.  It was shut off for the winter but decorated with Christmas lights.  Lights also covered the mansion itself, framing each of its giant windows and circling its roof.  The lights were brightly colored, red, green, blue, deep yellow and white, and they were all constantly fading and relighting themselves in different colors.

            Ryan and Jay’s auto made it two car-lengths in to a massive horse-shoe before the other cars present forced it to stop.  Jay got out of the car, and Ryan followed him.  Any other time of the year, during an event like this, there might have been a crowd on the lawn, but no one wanted to be outside in this cold, Ryan least of all, so he went straight up to the door and knocked.  A well-dressed butler was camped by the door to answer it.  He recognized Jay’s face, and so didn’t feel the need to ask for their invitations.

            The walls of the entryway were painted blue.  The floor was tiled with marble, marred with blue veins.  A curly staircase with a golden handrail led to a brown door.  On the ground, a scarlet rug led to a gold double-door twice the size of the mansion’s entrance.  These doors were held open, and behind them was a ballroom.  There were more brown doors to the right and left.  There were couches in each corner of the room.  People Ryan didn’t recognize, but who were the right age to be developers or businessmen, mingled on some of them.

            Ryan walked across the carpet.  The doors were flanked by statues: one of Breach’s most iconic character, James of the Terran Naval Marines, and one of the character Max happened to main, Occilo.

            The glass windows on the far end of the ballroom revealed that it was as deep as the whole rest of the house.  A few dozen people mingled and danced to 40s techno beats matching the style of Breach’s soundtrack.  Ryan scanned the room and saw Sophia.  She was speaking to someone next to a table on which food had been laid out.  Ryan walked toward her.  Jay went off on his own, probably toward Mitch, but Ryan didn’t care.

            “Hey!” Sophia said when she noticed Ryan.

            “Hey,” Ryan said.  The person she’d been talking to turned around.  It was, in fact, Maximilian Turner.  He stepped back allowing the two to greet one another with a brief hug.

            “Sorry to interrupt,” Ryan said.  Turner was in a light blue shirt and dark blue jacket and pants.  His face was smooth and flawless, his eyes soft blue and gentle, his mouth curved in an eternal smile.

            “Oh, no, it’s fine,” he said.  He extended his hand, which Ryan shook.  “I’m Max Turner.”

            “I recognized you,” Ryan said.  “I’m Ryan Jonson.”

            “Nice to meet you, Ryan,” Max said.”  So, you’re Unbroken’s new Zap?  Sophie says you’re pretty good.”  He gestured toward Sophia.

            “Well I’m definitely not going to go and deny that,” Ryan said.

            “Ha ha.  Well, it’s nice to meet you, and thanks for coming at the last minute.  It would have sucked for your team to have to step out because of what happened.”

            “Well that’s for sure,” Ryan said.

            “Ooh, Sorry,” Max said.  “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

            “No, no, it’s fine.  You’re fine.”

            “Max and I had just been talking about the ’79 regionals,” Sophia said.

            “Yeah,” Max said.  “You guys did really well there.”

            “Think so?” Ryan asked.

            “Of course.  I mean, sure, I could have done better, but you got third place.  That’s pretty impressive.”

            “You know, it’s not nice to tell people you’re better than them.”

            “Right, sorry about that!”

            “Don’t worry.  I’ll have my revenge once we start playing.”

            “Ha ha.  I’m going to hold you to that.  You’ll get a good chance in an hour when the match starts.  It’ll be fun no matter how it goes.”

            “Yeah.  It will.”  Ryan would need to consider hitting on this man later.

            “You four really did have a great dynamic, though,” Max said.  “Some of the best teamwork I’ve ever seen.”

            “Thanks.”

            “There’s no need to thank me for telling the truth.  Anyways, you two must have a lot to talk about.  I think I should let you two catch up.  There are still some people who are going to arrive, and I should greet them.”

            “No problem,” Sophia said.

            “Yeah, do what you need to do,” Ryan said.  “I hope we bump into each other later.”

            “Me too.  Oh, and a word of advice.  My brother isn’t as friendly as I am.  If you see him, don’t introduce yourself.  And if you do, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

            “Uh, okay,” Ryan said.

            “Maybe you’ll see what I mean,” Max said, and he walked off.

            Sophia picked up a bit of bread from the table next to them.  “So, what the hell have you been up to for a year and a half?”

            “Not much.  Basically just gaming.”

            “I’m surprised you’ve not found yourself another team.  It’s not like there aren’t a million teams that would kill for a competent Zap.”

            “Eh, maybe someday.”  Ryan scooped a ladel-full of punch into a paper cup.  “No offense, but I haven’t been missing competitive play much.”

            “I’m sorry to hear that.  I hope Jay didn’t strongarm you—”

            “No, no, it’s fine.  I’m happy to be here under the circumstances, and I’m psyched to play with you again.  It’s just not my favorite playing environment.”  Ryan took a sip of his punch.  It was good; pinkish orange and pretty darn sour.  It didn’t taste or smell alcoholic.  “How did Mitch react to learning that I was coming?” Ryan asked.

            Sophia had to think about that.  “He understood.  He’d definitely rather have you come than forfeit the tournament.”

            “He wasn’t happy about it though?”

            “Don’t worry about it.  Jayden gave him the chance to say no and he didn’t take it.  I won’t let him get away with going back on that.”

            “Oh, I can take care of that myself if the situation calls for it.  I’m curious, though.  What would you do?”

            “I dunno.  I’ve never had to answer that question before.  I get along with them fine.  It’s you the two of them annoy.”

            “Heh.”  How someone could possibly stand Mitch, Ryan didn’t understand.  The same would be true for Jay, if Ryan hadn’t dated him for so long.  “By the way, how is it you guys managed to get yourselves into the championship?  I leave and all of the sudden you’re championship material?  I have to admit, I’m a little wounded.”

            “I’m sure we’d have done it last year if you’d still been on the team.”

            “Thanks for saying so.”  The two continued catching up for quite a while, until another team entered the ballroom.

//////////

            Mitch was in the corner, on a couch, dutifully studying, bobbing his head to the ambient music.  Jayden walked over and sat next to him, wrapping an arm around him.

            “Hey,” Mitch said.

            “Hey,” Jayden said.  “Anything to share?”

            “Not that you probably don’t know,” Mitch said.  “I’ve mostly been looking into Reigning Fire.  Their item selection patterns are pretty wonky.”

            “That much I know,” Jayden said.  The weak teams warranted some study, but at the end of the day you probably wouldn’t face them, so they didn’t warrant the bulk of your attention.  Reigning Fire were the ones to obsess over.  The only way you wouldn’t face them eventually was if they lost to someone else, and the odds of that were low.  The odds of them losing to Unbroken were low too, but that didn’t bear thinking about.  If Unbroken was going to win the championship, they were probably going to have to beat Reigning Fire.  “If you’ve got them down, though, I’ll do Ours is the Glory.”

            “Sounds good.”  Ryan would be shocked to hear it, but Jayden did get bored watching hours of footage and pouring over game data.  Jayden just had the ability to power through it with this little thing called dedication.

            Jayden searched for and pulled up some footage of Ours is the Glory playing against Unbroken earlier this year.  Ours is the Glory had an odd battle dynamic.  Everyone else was dedicated to supporting Max’s Occilo.  He rode the Nullum.  The Armigiri existed mostly to buff him.  Terraemotus put a lot of work into aiding him as well, and forcing enemies to fight him alone.  All three of those players weren’t people Max had known before he started competitive play.  They were hired by Max’s father.  That didn’t mean Max was some upstart whose daddy had bought him a team.  A team that made it into the world championship multiple times in a row had to have four good players.  Still, Jayden wished his dad were rich enough to buy him the best teammates in the world.

            Jayden studied Max’s movements in the piece of footage he was watching.  Max was massive as Occilo, and he moved with power, riding his Nullum toward Zap, played by Lisa.  His sword glowed with Armigeri’s magic as he slammed it into her chest.  Sparks flew.  Being impaled by the sword locked Lisa in place.  Nullum hit her with a breath of blue-white fire.  Her rusty armor plating melted, bits of them dripping onto the horned beast, but doing him no harm.  Max wrenched his sword out of her and rode off to the right.  Lisa’s body fell forward.  Jayden studied the clip for over ten minutes but couldn’t find any flaw with the technique.  He scooted toward Mitch, who reciprocated, and rested his head against Jayden’s shoulder.

            Across the ballroom, another team entered.

//////////

            Ryan turned to see who was entering.  He recognized the first person to enter: Joss Turner, Captain of Reigning Fire.  As much as Max probably wouldn’t want to hear it, they looked a lot alike: both olive-skinned with puffy ridged cheeks.  Joss, though, had a wiry beard, redder than his head-hair.  He was wearing a shirt and jeans.  The rest of his team entered behind him, only one of them dressed up.

            “Should I go introduce myself to him?” Ryan asked.

            “Like Max told you not to?” Sophia asked.

            “Right, exactly,” Ryan said.  “I’m really curious.”  Reigning Fire split up.  One member headed toward the stage to dance.  Two others walked over to the couches where Jay and Mitch were.  These were championship players.  Some of the best in the league and the most dedicated.

            Maybe Jay would leave Mitch for one of them.

            “Have you met Reigning Fire before?” Ryan asked Sophia.  Ryan was pretty sure Unbroken had played them once back when he was on it, but he didn’t remember interacting with them himself.  They weren’t quite as big of a team a few years ago.

            “We’ve played against them,” Sophia said.  “I’ve not had any extended conversations with them or anything.”

            “Do you think he’s as bad as his brother let on?”

            “Probably.”

            Joss was walking over to them.  Toward the punch, Ryan realized.  He gave Ryan a look that told him he’d noticed Ryan’s staring.  That was rude of Ryan.  Still, the look sort of sealed the deal.  “I’m going in,” Ryan said.

            “I’ll be here to cheer you on,” Sophia said.

            Ryan waited for Joss to arrive at the punch bowl.  Once Joss was in front of the bowl, Ryan walked up to and stood behind him, as if waiting in line to refill his glass, which was long-empty.  “Hi,” Ryan said.

            “Hi,” Joss said.  He scooped punch into his cup, and, without moving out of the way, pulled a flask out of his coat and poured its contents in.

            “I’m Ryan,” Ryan said.  “You’re Joss Turner?”

            “Yes.”  He moved over, and got a plate, which he began to fill with artificial meat.

            “It’s nice to meet you,” Ryan said.

            “Nice to meet you,” Joss said, focused on his task.  Ryan got his own punch.

            “Can I borrow some of what’s in the flask?” Ryan said.

            “If only I had enough to share.”

            “Yikes.  I’m here if you want to talk about it.”

            “Believe me, there’s nothing you could say.  Now please leave me alone.”

            “Sorry,” Ryan said.

            “I didn’t ask you to apologize.  I asked you to go away.”

            “Sorry,” Ryan said again.

            “And what was it I just said?”

            “Alright, alright, I’m going.”

            “You say that.”

            Ryan took his full punch glass back over to Sophia.

            “Looks like that went well,” she said.

            “We’re best friends now,” Ryan said.

            “Cool beans.  Anything worth sharing?”

            “He has more foresight than me.  He brought a flask to mix into his punch.”

            “I’m wounded.  Are you saying you’re not enjoying yourself?”

            “Oh no.  I am.  For now.  While I’ve not seen Mitch.”

            “It’d be as simple as looking right over there.”  She gestured toward the two of them, half snuggling, half studying on the couch.

            “Bleck,” Ryan said.

            “Fair enough.  I can’t blame Joss for needing some help getting through this, though.  There must be a lot of baggage between he and his brother after the accusations.”
            “I was reading about that on the way here.  You’ve been more hooked into things than I have.  Do you think he did it?”

            “There’s not really any evidence.  The whole point of having an AI govern the game is that it allows the rules to be a bit adaptable and the game still be fair.  Max had a second Purifying Light in that match because Breach-bot allowed him to, and Joss knew that that kind of thing could happen, so he prepared for it.”

            “I guess.  I can’t help but see him as the cheating type, though.”

            “I’m sure he is.  People who play fair don’t become world champions.”

            “What does that say about us?”

            “That we’ll get third place, like we did at regionals.  At least that’s as high as I’m letting my hopes get.”

            “Wise.  And now I feel sorry for Jay and Mitch.”

            “Softie.”

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Breach World Championship 2081 Part 1: Hope's Vanguard

Well... I haven't managed one of these in a while. This is not, however, an isolated incident. I have indeed returned to writing, and will be posting serial chapters monthly for the foreseeable future. By the way, I have a patreon now. I've actually had it for a while, but have only now made the decision to become active, and so only now am producing content for it.

Joining it will offer a number of benefits depending on the amount you donate, including deleted passages paired with commentary on why they were removed, access to my early drafts as I complete them, feedback on your own stories, and even a story of your very own written by me according to your instructions.

            Lava rained on Max in fiery orange globs.  They would have harmed a lesser creature, but Max, well, Max wasn’t that, so he hid himself by standing within a thick stream of molten rock.  His foe wasn’t clever.  It would be fooled.

            Here came his foe now.  The monster, Huel-drark, was as large as him, but while his own broad build was encased in bright-white, half-luminous armor, this creature was covered only in gray wrinkly skin.  Unlike Max, it was damaged by each drop of lava as it spewed from the volcano it climbed, yet it persisted, dodging, trying in vain to avoid the hot spray, for its objective lie at the volcano’s peak.

            At the peak of the volcano was a weapon, so small that it could fit in Max’s fist but with destructive power so great that its cleansing light would destroy this vile creature and all those like him across the whole planet.  The weapon would go off in just over a minute.

            Stopping this weapon only required the monster to reach it.  If he did, he could encase the shining crystal in his vile, infections flesh, forcing its explosion to destroy only him.  That wasn’t going to happen, though.  It was time for Max to guarantee it.  Waiting for the creature to rush up ahead of him, and be good and softened by the lava, Max leapt from his hiding place.  The monster could only crane its head before Max buried his enormous sword into its squishy flesh, all at once dealing half the damage it would take to kill the creature.

            It wasted no time retaliating.  On its arm was a great cannon, made from what pretended to be hexagonal metal plates, a browner gray than the rest of its body.  The monster pointed its barrel directly at Max and blasted him away, forcing him back several yards and taking out almost a third of his health.

            But that was what Max wanted him to do.  He rose from the ground in a single, graceful motion, no doubt eliciting cheers from his excited fans.  His adversary had blundered in taking his bait.  Huel-drark’s cannon took several seconds to recharge, and seeing as that was how long this fight was going to last, that meant it was out of the picture.  Max gripped his sword and leapt to the side.  The creature ran back from him, but Max had no trouble closing the distance between himself and the fungal monstrosity, baring his sword to mislead the creature about his intentions.  The cleansing crystal that would soon burst forth from the volcano wasn’t the only one of its kind.  Max had another, smaller one, and when he crushed it, it would explode, destroying this monster and ensuring his victory.

            There was no way this creature could know what he intended.  The monster ought to believe that he’d already used up the one Purifying Crystal he was allowed to take into a match.  He’d made a point use it on the very same player earlier.  What the monster couldn’t know is that, in this scenario, each member of his team had received an extra one.  None of the others had used it.  That was at Max’s direction.  It was important to keep his enemy unsuspecting, for the sake of this very moment.

            Max swung his sword, causing the creature to raise his shield.  He let go of his sword with one arm, and followed the momentum of his swing until his hand reached his belt.  Max activated his crystal.  The championship was his.  Max’s bliss was as bright, as all-consuming and glorious as the light that would soon consume this digital planet.  The crystal exploded.  The force of the blast, though harmless to him, did push him away, so that he landed on the ground a dozen feet from what ought to be the remains of his adversary.

            Only when the light cleared, his enemy was still there.  That was impossible.  Max stood.  The creature appeared unharmed, and ran toward the volcano’s lip.  “What the hell?” Max shouted.  How had this creature survived his Purifying Light?  He shouldn’t have been able to.  He can’t have activated a Pocket Black Hole.  Max would have seen the monster do that and taking two Black Holes into this match would be ridiculous anyway.  Your enemy would only ever have one Purifying Light to use against you.

            Max’s composure returned to him.  In standing dumfounded, he’d allowed his enemy a head start up the mountain.  The monster had nearly reached its goal.  Max rushed forward with all the speed he could muster.  Max’s every step kicked back a cloud of ash as the fire rained on top of him.  “No,” he whispered aloud, as his enemy reached the lip of the volcano, and leapt from it to the crystal, grabbing and neutralizing it, leaving nothing of himself but a grayish goop which rained into the volcano.

            And Max was left alive, standing beneath the harmless lava as Breach-bot spoke.  “Target neutralized.  Game over.  Gray Fungus wins.”

            Around Max, the world deleted itself, fading into blackness.  “Stop!” he shouted, as if he could reverse this travesty if only he could stay here a while longer.  Even if he could, nothing he did here would change anything.  Before long, he awoke in his chair.  He ripped his headset off and threw it against the wall.  Max’s teammates awoke in short succession, and each stood.  Max did not.  He only simmered at the faint sound of the crowd outside cheering for his opponents.

            One of his teammates approached him.  “Hey, you need to get up,” she said, holding out her hand.  He acted as if he hadn’t heard her, so she continued, “we did our damnedest out there and we came within an inch of winning.  How many people can say that?”
             “Jesus Christ, it isn’t that!” Max said, yelling, but at the situation, and not his teammate.  He hoped she understood that.  His voice lowered.  “I think he cheated.”
             “What?” another teammate said.

            “I got my Purifying Light off.  He survived it without activating a Black Hole.  There’s no way that could have happened.”

            “We now present to you,” said a voice in the distance, “our new World Champions, Reigning Fire!”

//////////

One Year Later

            A derelict building appeared around Ryan.  It was the giant lobby of a hotel, moldy, musky, in disrepair.  He took a few steps to orient himself in his chosen body.  His form was of a twelve-foot robot.  His shoulders were broad and strong, his head small and indistinct except for the bright blue eyes.  They were only two of countless tiny cameras that dotted his body, interrupting the armored plates, red with rust and faded paint, which covered him.  His many cameras allowed him to see in all directions.  In front of him was a wide terminal with four small holographic projectors along it and a giant one atop it.  To his left an ancient front desk at which wealthy guests might once have been checked in to gilded suites.  To his right a lounge in which once-luxurious furniture was speckled about most of the cavernous room.  Behind him only wooden frames remained of revolving doors which must have once held panes of sparkling glass.  Far above him a vast chandelier somehow still held its grip on the cracked domed ceiling.  Below him, a shaggy red and gold carpet, its luster faded.  Ryan saw all of this at once, as a single, complete account of his surroundings, lacking any seam or split or edge to his vision.

            Ryan was pretty used to playing this character, but it still took him a moment to get used to changing bodies.  Zap was supposed to be a reprogrammed robot, originally built for use by the Terran Naval Marines, but re-appropriated by the militant organization Red Arachnia.  He was one of the wonkier characters.  His main form was humanoid, but one of the character’s most powerful abilities was his sphere mode, which he could enter to curl himself up into a loosely held together ball of metallic scrap and electrical viscera, fit to roll over people and crush them.

            Not everyone could play weird characters well.  Anyone who played one would hear from some of those they defeated about how unfair that was, but they were mistaken in thinking that Zap was better than other characters.

            As Ryan got his bearings, the terminal’s large projector activated, showing a whitish outline of Red Arachnia’s in-universe leader, Blast.  She was a large woman, bulky, butch and vaguely slavic.  “Welcome,” she said.

            “Hey,” Ryan said.  His voice was metallic and distorted.

            “We have several engagements that could use your attention, Comrade.  What sort of thing are you looking for?  I promise, I can offer one just like it.”

            “I’m not feeling picky today,” Ryan said.  “Anything four versus four.”

            “Roger,” Blast said.  “I’m bringing in some Comrades to help you.”  Ryan waited.  Matchmaking was rarely a long process, and sure enough a team of three players soon appeared behind him.

            “Hey, we have a Zap” one said.  Ryan turned around.

            “Roger,” he said.  The one who’d spoken was playing Dash, the second most mechanical member of Red Arachnia.  Every part of him, save half his face, was covered in metal.  Dash had the fastest movement speed in the game.  He could rush someone down with such force that he could jab with his rapier before they had a chance to react.

            “Cool,” said a Sneak.  The way the player drawled the word out conflicted with his character’s voice, which was smarmy and high.  Sneak was notable for being stealthy.  He can turn mostly invisible, go completely silent, and do a lot of things to annoy his enemies while out of sight.  The down side is that once he’s revealed himself, he’s pretty much dead.

            The final member of their team was a Boost, one of the few magically inclined members of Red Arachnia.  His job is to cast the ubiquitous healing spell and to make everyone faster and stronger.

            “You guys warped in together,” Ryan said.  “You know each other?”
             “Yeah,” the Dash said.  “We’re actually introducing my friend here to the game.”  He gestured to the Sneak.

            “Welcome to Breach,” Ryan said.  It would be rude to let it on, but just about everyone he was likely to encounter on here was new compared to him.  It may well be that Breach-bot matched him with a group containing a brand-new player specifically in hopes that the two would balance each other out.

            “Thanks,” the Sneak said.

            “How long have you been playing Zap?” the Dash asked.

            “A while,” Ryan said.  “Don’t worry, I’m proficient with him.”

            “No, no, I didn’t mean it like that” the Dash said.  “Like I said, our friend is brand new.”

            The hologram of Blast reappeared.  Ryan leapt over the three of them and did a one-eighty in the air, landing behind them so they could see her.  The three watched him, and Sneak seemed in awe.

            “If you’re done showing off, Comrade,” Blast said, “I’ve a mission for you.”

            “Sorry,” Ryan said.

            “An unprecedented opportunity has been given to us,” Blast said.  This was how every match began, with a unique scenario invented by Breach-bot on the spot.  He was a fully sentient creature, one of the most powerful of his kind not in service to a government and he spent the milliseconds just before every match lovingly hand-crafting an entirely new scenario.  They were normally simple, but no player ever saw the same one twice.  Some of them contained elements which had never been seen before and would never be seen again.

            “In accordance with the foolishness we’ve come to expect from them,” Blast continued, “the Terran Naval Marines are oblivious to our presence on this planet.  As a result, they’ve chosen to leave one of their battleships, the quite ironically named the TSS Hope’s Vanguard, in orbit here with, shall we say, insufficient protection.  They believe they are deep in friendly territory, so you should have little trouble infiltrating their ship using one of our stolen landers.  Your real mission begins once you’re on board.”

            Blast’s flickery white form was replaced with a holographic projection of the TSS Hope’s Vanguard, on which a red dot indicated a hanger bay close to its bow. “You’ll enter here, in the starboard hanger bay.  It should be trivial for you to over-power the crew there and Spark,” another playable member of Red Arachnia, talented at hacking, “will take care of their automated defenses.  Your job is to move from the hanger bay to the bridge and overcome any resistance you might encounter.”  Ryan noted the path from the hanger bay to the bridge as displayed by the hologram.  They would run down the short corridor, cut through the mess hall and into another hallway, at the end of which was an elevator down to the bridge.

            “Once you reach the bridge, you’ll need to jump to these coordinates.”  A long string of numbers appeared.  “You’ll be able to access them from your HUD.”  It would take about a minute to enter all of those numbers.  “Don’t worry about them harvesting this information if you’re captured.  It will delete itself long before they can break its encryption.  The coordinates lead to a stronghold in the Perseus Arm.  Once you’ve taken the Hope’s Vanguard there, our waiting fleet will have no trouble subduing it.  We’ll have one more ship, including all the data on it, and a large number of prisoners.

            “Spark can only keep the ship off-line for about fifteen minutes.  If you’re in control of the bridge by then, it won’t matter, but if you’re still onboard without control of the ship after that time, it’s not going to go well for you.”  Most scenarios had that same time limit.  “The counter won’t start until you’re on the ship, so you have time to equip yourselves properly.  The lander is outside.  Choose well and good luck Comrades.”  The hologram turned off, and the terminal’s four smaller projectors activated.

            Prior to each mission, each character could select a series of weapons and tools to take with them.  What these could be, and how many they could take, depended on the character.  Red Arachnia characters tended to have a lot of tools at their disposal but didn’t tend to have the strongest weapons.  Their best weapons weren’t usually good because of the damage they dealt.  For instance, most of them had access to the electro-stun pistol, which, five times per match, stunned an enemy completely for several seconds, but made them more resistant to damage during that time.  All three of Ryan’s teammates were probably selecting that right now.  Being a larger robot, Zap didn’t have a stun pistol, but rather the ability to launch stun grenades.  He selected a three-pack of such grenades.  He also got the minigun and grenade launcher.

            Zap could select four tools.  For a Red Arachnia member, that wasn’t many.  The extendable shield was good in close quarters and would let them get down the elevator shaft easily.  He grabbed a packet of healing potions.

            “Hey, you’re grabbing quite a few smoke grenades,” the Dash said to the Sneak.

            “I figure they’re good for stealth,” the Sneak said.  “Am I wrong?”

            “In a couple of ways,” the Dash said.

                “Crap,” the Sneak said.

            “They can help you if you get spotted,” Ryan said.  A more experienced player would get spotted rarely enough that they wouldn’t be worth it, but for this guy, they’d be useful.  Ryan grabbed visual enhancers that would let him see through smoke.  Looking at the Sneak’s display, he saw that he’d picked three packets of smoke grenades.  “Each of those slots is a pack of four grenades,” he said.  “You should probably only get one.”

            “Oh.  Thanks.”
            “No problem.”

            “Anything else I should definitely get?” the Sneak asked.

            According to the display, the kid had already picked up a pack of healing potions, so Ryan said, “You seem to be doing alright.”

            “Okay,” he said, though the Dash now became more intent about walking him through his selections.

            “I got a shield,” Ryan said, “so no one else needs to bother with a grappling hook.”

            Once they had selected everything, they went outside and got aboard the lander.  It lifted off.  Their surroundings faded, and then returned, still depicting the lander’s interior.  To their right, a video feed, showing them the lander’s surroundings.  Right now it just showed them stars.

            Soon the enemy ship came into view.  It was massive, flanked by two pathetic escort ships.  Those ships were actually the size of the lander they were in right now: the one a giant robot could comfortably fit inside, but next to the Hope’s Vanguard, they were specks. 

            The ship grew more enormous as they approached it, soon filling their screen’s display.  Seconds later, the whitish shielding that covered the hanger bay was all they could see, and past it, inside, there were more ships like their own.  The barrier split like a waterfall to admit them.  The hanger bay was cavernous.  Probably three-dozen of the ship they were in could fit inside it.  There were also humans around, dressed in tight blue uniforms appearing to be mechanics.  These were not other players.  They were extras, unable to do any harm, and Ryan and his team would be rushing through them quite callously on the way to their actual battle.

            Spark spoke to them.  The others probably heard him through an earpiece, but Ryan heard it like a voice in his head.  “Get ready.  I’m shutting things down in three, two, one…”

            The lights went out.  The rear of their ship fell, forming an exit ramp.  Due to his built-in night-vision, Ryan could see the crewmen scrambling about.  “Red Alert!” a voice announced.  “Red alert!  Security systems compromised.  Imminent attack—”

Dash was the first one out of the dropship.  The extras, whom he ignored, reacted to him as though a gush of wind had gone by.  Boost followed him out.  Ryan was about to tell Sneak not to waste ammo on these noncombatants, but he seemed to figure that out for himself.  He ran off after the others, and Ryan took his sphere form and rolled out.  Making himself roll forward was as intuitive as walking for Ryan.  He rushed over to the door to meet his teammates, caring nothing for the four mechanics he crushed on his way there.

             They had already gathered at the end of the corridor, just behind the door to the mess hall.  The other team was probably beyond.  Perhaps in their scenario, they were simply dining, only to find themselves accosted by a surprise invasion from Red Arachnian agents.

            The door to the mess hall was locked shut.  “I’ll get the door,” Ryan said.

            “How?” Sneak asked.

            Ryan smiled.  “I’ll show you.  Stick to the walls.”  It would have been better if they had a Spark with them to hack the thing, but they didn’t, so cruder methods would have to do.  Ryan rolled back a few paces, and then bulled forward into the door, forcing it to pop out of the wall and fly into the mess hall.  Wary of potential traps, Ryan was careful not to advance further into the room, where the enemy team did, indeed, wait.  Right in front of him, ready to begin firing on them, was a McCormick.  While Red Arachnians had words for names, supposed to be the nick-names their characters had come to use for each other after years of fighting together, Terran Naval Marines had military designations.  Perhaps the most powerful Terran Naval Marine, Sgt. McCormick was a big, burly, mean drill sergeant who wielded a mini-gun with enough power to pierce Ryan’s metal armor.  Some distance to the side of him was a Morrison, who was to the Terran Naval Marines what Boost was to Red Arachnia.  Far in the distance was Slater, whose job was to set just the kind of explosive trap Ryan had been afraid of, which probably lay just in front of the door he’d burst open.

            Ryan didn’t see the fourth member of their team, for which there could be any number of explanations, but that concern was over-shadowed by the sight of Sneak, rushing into the room to engage with the enemy.  “Stop!” Dash shouted, too late to avert tragedy.

            The explosion made Ryan roll back a few feet and knocked the Sneak forward, deep into the room.  All of them were frozen in place.  The McCormick burst into laughter.  “Oh my god!” he shouted.  “You actually just did that!”  Sneak was on the ground, not moving.  Now that Ryan’s team was stunned, it became clear who the fourth member of the other team was: Nealson, a sniper, whose bullets now rained onto the three of them.  They’d not die even from a headshot, thanks to the damage resistance that being stunned provided, but they’d be softened up for the coming battle.

            The McCormick casually approached Sneak.  He leaned down.  “Thanks for matching against me.  I needed someone like you to boost my rankings.  I’ll be platinum after this!”  He pointed his minigun directly at Sneak’s head and unloaded it, which was more than enough to kill the poor kid.  Having had his fun, the McCormick moved clear of the door, but he wasn’t that far from the door when the stun wore off.  With no more traps to worry about, Ryan went straight into sphere form and rushed the McCormick down.  Behind him, Dash ran toward Nealson, which forced the sniper to hide below his cover and pull out a close ranged weapon.  The Boost, probably thinking Dash didn’t need his help, chased after Ryan, summoning a blue orb and tossing it into Ryan like a fastball.  It was a speed boosting spell.

            “Much appreciated,” Ryan said, continuing forward, crushing tables in his wake as he rushed into the McCormick’s fire.  The Morrison fired a red line of energy from her own hand into McCormick, giving his minigun’s fire the power to slow Ryan down.  If Ryan didn’t have his own boost, he would have changed forms and fired on his enemy, but thanks to his new friend’s help, he could still charge forward faster than his enemies were able to back away.

            Then Slater rushed at his ally from behind.  “Watch behind you!” Ryan said, and he burst out of sphere form, and, ignoring the shots behind him for the brief time he could, fired a stunning grenade at Slater.  He caught the Slater in the blast, which forced him back and stunned him the same way his own mine had done to Sneak.  Shots were raining on him from McCormick behind him.  Boost ran over to use him as cover and began to toss healing orbs into him in quick succession.  Ryan left the slater to lie for a moment, and turned around, firing on the Morrison.

            She flinched, denying McCormick his boost for a moment, and Ryan used that to press into the medic.  Behind him, his Boost dropped the healing, and instead made a yellow ball form in his hand, which he tossed between Ryan’s legs and into the distracted Morrison, stunning her.  Ryan wouldn’t be able to do enough damage with his machine gun while she was stunned so he leapt into the air and went into sphere mode at just the right moment to land on her, crushing her to death.

            That’d made up their team’s lead, and now he had a Boost and his enemy didn’t, but his health was low.  A quick potion helped but didn’t make up for the fact that he was being barraged by the McCormick this very second.  Then Slater woke up, and shot a grenade straight into Boost’s chest, knocking him past Ryan and McCormick and into some cafeteria tables, draining most of his health.  Ryan needed to buy himself just a second to take care of this.  He ran straight at McCormick.  There wasn’t much distance to close.  The sergeant stopped firing and pulled out a small metal rod, which, with the press of a button, became the handle on an energy shield as tall as McCormick was.

            The McCormick backed up slowly, ready to fire again if the situation changed to demand it.  Ryan kept moving toward the sergeant, until he was standing over him.  He reached over the shield, at the cost of taking a few more shots, and grabbed McCormick by the leg.  “Hey, what the fuck!” he cried.  His weight was considerable, even for Ryan in this form, but he was able to heft McCormick a few dozen feet to the right and into another line of tables.  Ryan turned to face the Slater and unloaded a single stunning shot, which knocked him back.  Ryan charged at him, blasting him with bullets, and, upon finally reaching his frozen form, stomped on him as hard as he could, killing him.

            Boost stood, but needed to focus on healing himself, so Ryan used another potion.  All throughout his body, plates welded themselves back together.  Broken wires reattached.

            McCormick had already stood up by the time Ryan turned to face him.  He would have liked to use another stunning blast, but only had one more, and didn’t dare leave himself with none this early in the match.  He pelted his enemy with ordinary fire instead, expecting him to do the same.  Instead, the McCormick fired a grenade at Boost, who was still busy healing himself.

            Ryan jumped toward The McCormick, shifting into sphere mode, threatening to crush his foe like he had the Morrison.  This forced the McCormick to dodge out of the way, which bought the Boost a moment to consume a healing potion.  Instead, presumably hoping to save it, he fired another spell into himself, leaving his health low enough for McCormick to end him with another grenade.

            Ryan couldn’t waste any time feeling frustrated.  He turned his fire straight on the McCormick, who did the same back to him.  Bullets clanked and bounced off every part of him.  He could take sphere mode and rush his enemy down, but would McCormick be able to strafe out of the way?  If he was skillful, yes.  It wasn’t something Ryan should risk, but it wasn’t as though there was no risk in Ryan letting McCormick keep shooting him.  The two strafed and dodged around the open area their battle had cleared away.  They both managed to do a lot of damage to each other.  Ryan used another potion.  That still left him with three.

            A pause in his enemy’s fire telegraphed something coming to interrupt the status quo they’d formed.  It also gave Ryan an opportunity.  He shifted into sphere form and charged McCormick.  This forced a dodge.  Ryan used another potion, and his enemy pulled out a rocket launcher, and fired it.  The rocket forced Ryan off-course, and propelled him into Slater’s corpse, blowing up in his face, forcing him out of sphere mode, and stunning him.

            “Ha!” the McCormick shouted.  Ryan lay on the ground, paralyzed, as the enemy approached him.  “After all that, turns out you’re just as shitty as your friend.”

            Ryan had been stunned a million times.  The sensation was more frustrating than frightening to him, and he had long since gotten over the instinct to try to move.  This time, though, for just a moment, he forgot himself.  He must have managed to twitch, because McCormick said, “You can’t move, dumbass.”  He aimed a rocket at Ryan’s head.  Ryan expected the last thing he heard to be an explosion, but instead there was a woosh, and then the image of McCormick impaled on Dash’s rapier.

            “Where the fuck have you been?” Ryan asked, still stuck.

            “Nealson was trying to go invis--” was all the explanation Dash got out before McCormick punched him away.  The stun wore off.  Ryan raised his arm and fired his final stun grenade directly into McCormick.  He was officially too spent for a full fight after this, but fortunately he was beginning to form some concept of how not to need one.  This stun took hold, and opened McCormick up to another rapier through the neck from Dash, which ended him.

            Both of them fell over with what seemed to be exhaustion, though the game wouldn’t actually allow them to feel something so unpleasant.  All of that had taken five minutes.  Sneak would respawn any second now.  Ryan stood up.

            “I’m pretty spent,” Dash said.  “I doubt I can take another full fight.”

            “Me neither,” Ryan said, “but I think we might be able to avoid that.  It comes down to your friend coming back.  Him rushing out like that was an anomaly, right?  He’s not normally dim?”

            “Of course not!” but there was a hint of defensiveness in Dash’s voice that made Ryan worry.

            “I hope you’re right, because I have an important job in mind for him.”

//////////

            “Cheap-ass bastards!”  Todd ought to have had them.  He was about to have them.  But he shouldn’t let it bother him too much.  He was still going to win.  It was four good players versus maybe two and a half.  Hopefully, the retard they had playing Sneak would get them all stunned again.

            “Breach-bot, put on some music,” he said, when he respawned on the bridge, holding McCormick’s minigun.  The tunes came on, an old techno beat from the 2040s, much better than anything they were shitting out today.  Todd was happy to see that everyone else on the bridge could hear it.

            In front of him was a display.  In the time it’d taken him to respawn, the other team had gotten their team-mates back and managed to get to the elevator shaft.

            “Nealson, start picking them off,” Todd said.

            “Yeah, I was already on that,” said the Nealson, as if Todd had insulted him.

            “Sure doesn’t look like you’re shooting at them,” an error Nealson wasted no time correcting.  Nealson had phasing bullets which would be able to pass through the walls of this ship.  Other factions, like the Legion of the Iron Star, and the motherfucking Gray Fungus had answers to this, but Red Arachnia, Red Arachnia were fucking chumps and they probably wouldn’t.

//////////

            “Sorry about before,” Sneak said before they descended.  He was perched atop Ryan, in his sphere form.  They were positioned in such a way that the Nealson could only fire into him, and Boost could heal that damage faster than Nealson could deal it.  “I probably fucked things up for you, didn’t I?”
            “No,” Ryan said.  “We won that battle.”

            “Heh, no thanks to me.”
            “You’re going to make up for it,” Ryan said.

            “What makes you so sure about that?” Sneak asked.

//////////

            “Look at them turtling like that,” Todd said to the rest of his team.  “Fucking pathetic.  Do you think they plan to run out the clock like that?  Maybe they know they can’t win, so they’re just going to waste our time to spite us?”

            None of them responded.  The elevator car was way above the other team.  Todd could control it from the bridge, so there was no way they were calling it.  They would have to find a way down the shaft.  Todd had expected the other team to use grappling hooks to get down to the bridge.  That’s what Todd would have done if he played Red Arachnia, not that he would ever lower himself to that.

            The other team finally quit jerking off up there and moved toward the elevator.  Todd grabbed his gun.  Slater had already placed traps both at the bottom of the elevator and right outside it.  Todd just aimed his weapon at the elevator door, hoping that moron would come right through it again.  Him having done it the one time was funny enough, but to see him do the same thing again would make Todd’s week.

            Then the other team decided to make his month for him instead.  Todd burst out laughing, letting his minigun’s aim droop downward.  He watched the hologram as the idiots clung to their Zap as it rolled straight into the elevator shaft and fell down it.  It seemed these morons really had accepted defeat and decided to end the match.  They fell cleanly down the shaft, not tumbling, or hitting the walls, until they hit the bottom, setting off Slater’s trap.  There was an explosion in the shaft, which made one half of the double door fly open and the other one swell out.  The shaft was filled with smoke for a few seconds, and Todd composed himself.  When the smoke cleared, where there should have been scrap metal, was an undamaged Sphere Mode Zap, with his teammates clinging to him.

            “What the fuck bullshit is that?” Todd shouted.

//////////

            It was a shield jump.  That was the answer to the McCormick’s question.  They’d jumped down onto the trap, and, at the last moment, Ryan had activated his shield, which created a bubble just a few feet in radius larger than his sphere mode, which no damage could pierce.  It lasted only a few seconds, but that was long enough to protect his entire team from the fall damage and the explosive trap.  Everyone dismounted him and stood back while Ryan shot the trap that was now outside the elevator.  Sneak waited for a choice opportunity to cloak himself.  Nealson fired a stream of bullets at Ryan.  Dash ran outside.  Ryan and Boost followed, and immediately strafed left, until they were a ways from the door.

            The bridge was miniscule compared to the mess hall.  It was structured like a hill.  At the front, farthest from the lift by which they had entered, was the pilot’s seat.  Other seats and stations ascended from there in four concentric circles.  At the center, highest of all, was the captain’s chair, in front of which McCormick stood.

            Nealson was next to McCormick.  Morrison was behind them.  Slater was off to the other side.  Dash ran over to him and engaged.  Ryan shot a grenade in the midst of the other three opponents.  They dodged in opposite directions, but neither of them were able to escape the damage radius in time.  Boost gave Ryan a damage boost, and Ryan used it to unload into the now-prone Nealson.  He was careful about his stray bullets.  He didn’t know exactly where Sneak was, and it was important that he never be hit.  By the time Nealson was able to force himself onto his feet through the barrage, most of his health was gone.  The sniper jumped to the back, trying to take cover behind the peak of the bridge’s hill.  McCormick fired on Ryan.  Morrison shot a healing line at Nealson while the sniper was still in mid-air.  Once the sniper landed, Ryan rushed up and over the top of the bridge’s mound, firing his weapon, accepting the damage from the McCormick.  Boost followed, staying in cover and keeping clear of the wall to the right.  Once Ryan was over the peak, he fired down on Nealson.  The sniper strafed backward and fired back into him, but once one too many bullets had hit him, went limp and fell back against a navigator’s desk.

            Ryan turned and shot at McCormick, charging up the hill.  McCormick strafed backward at a matching pace, and they’d soon rounded the peak of the hill again.  Each of their boosters healed them.  “You’re going to run out of time before you can kill me, dumbass!” the McCormick said.  He may have been right.  Ryan might have made progress eliminating his enemy team if he shifted his attention to their Morrison, but he needed to force McCormick’s attention onto him.  He strafed in a circle so that his back was to the elevator, and the backs of those firing on him would be to the piloting chair.  Boost moved behind him, to use him as cover.  A light turned on across the bridge.  Sneak was probably visible behind the mound of bridge stations.  If Ryan lost either of his enemy’s attention, it would be over for them.  McCormick threw a grenade at the two of them.  Ryan decided to stay put and eat the damage but Boost dove to the right.  When the grenade exploded, Ryan took a harsh chunk of damage.

            To Ryan’s left, Dash slit the throat of the enemy Slater, freeing him up to leap at McCormick, bearing not his rapier, which wouldn’t do enough damage, but his stun gun, which would paralyze him.  That would let them functionally end the battle.  Morrison on her own wouldn’t be able to harm them.  Ryan smiled.  Dash fired the weapon, loosing a yellow sphere like the one Boost had earlier conjured with a spell, and just before it hit McCormick square in the breast, McCormick activated a reflector, shooting the thing right back at Dash and stunning him.  A spray of Ryan’s own bullets flew back at him as well.  McCormick strafed to where Dash lay sprawled with his head hanging over the drop from one circle of stations to another.  Morrison was able to keep her healing spell up while she unloaded her side-arm into Dash.  McCormick stomped Dash’s head once, twice, and then thrice, leaving his neck broken and his head hanging grotesquely from him.

            “You’re so predictable!” the McCormick said.  “God, how did I start to lose to you upstairs?  It must be the way the scenario was balanced.”  A hologram appeared to their left.  It was Serrano, another member of the Terran Naval Marines.

            “I’ll have control back in one minute guys.  Great job holding out for us!”

            “No problem,” McCormick said.  “They were chumps.”  Then another voice rang through the bridge.

            “Jump drive engaged.”

            “What?!” McCormick said.  There was a jerk as the ship started moving.  Ryan stopped firing.  McCormick turned around.  Sneak was visible now, sitting in the pilot’s chair.

            Breach-bot spoke to all of them in his default voice.  “Match ended.  Red Arachnia wins.”

            “How the fuck did you do that?” McCormick screamed.  The ship stopped.  “That’s such bullshit!  How did you stay invisible long enough to do that?”  Blast came onscreen and greeted her cursing and protesting prisoner.  McCormick began to rant about the unfairness of invisibility, but their surroundings mercifully faded away, sparing all of them from having to listen.

            They were now at a rebel base, all four of them.  It was different than the last one.  A proper base, not the least bit disheveled.  Perhaps it was supposed to be the one this journey had got them too.  Ryan could see a black ship far above them.  Perhaps it was the Hope’s Vanguard, but there was no way to be sure.

            “Holy shit, great job, man,” Dash said to Sneak.

            “Thanks,” Sneak said.  “I just did what our Zap told me to.”

            “Don’t be modest,” Ryan said.  “You managed to sneak across that room without alerting any of them that you were there, and without getting hit by any stray gunfire.  Not everyone could have done that.”  An invisible Sneak fades into view for several seconds if he takes damage.  Had that happened even once, the other team might have detected him.  Ryan had planned for their distraction to be enough of an immediate concern for the other team that this could happen a few times, and it possibly not ruin their plan.  Sneak had dodged the gunfire better than Ryan could have expected and put the coordinates into the ship quickly and inconspicuously enough that their distraction was successful.  “You played very well.”

            “Thanks,” Sneak said.  “Say, I’d love it if you stayed partied with us for another match.”

                “Yeah, if you’re going to be playing a few more matches,” Dash said.

            Ryan was about to say yes, but then Breach-bot flashed an icon across his vision.  He stared at it for a second.

            “What’s up?” the Dash asked.

            “I just got a message,” he said.  “I’m sorry.  I have to deal with this.  Breach-bot, remember these guys so I can find them again later.”

            “Same the other way around,” Dash said.

            “Contact information added,” Breach-bot said.

            “I’ll see if I can’t join up with you after just one more match,” Ryan said.

            “Cool,” Dash said.

            “Alright,” Ryan said, looking up, as if Breach-bot could be found above him.  He spoke with an audible sigh.  “Take me to him.”

            His surroundings transformed again.  The message had said that its sender needed to speak with Ryan right away.  Something terrible had happened, and he needed Ryan’s help worse than he ever had before.  Ryan appeared deep within a Red Arachnia base, surrounded by cobbled-together machinery, rusty metal on every panel of the wall, floor and ceiling.  It was dark, and there was a table next to him.  At its far end, sat a Dash, but with a completely different player inside than the one he’d just been playing with.  Ryan sat down in the giant chair that had been set up for him.

            “What happened,” Ryan, willfully allowing the irritation to show in his voice.  He groaned.  “Breach-bot, make me not sound like a robot.”

            “Vocal alteration disabled.”

            “What happened?  This had better actually be important.”  Ryan and this man had disagreed in the past about just which things were and which things weren’t.

                “It’s about Lisa,” the man replied.

            That made Ryan’s stoniness melt.  “What happened to Lisa?”  Lisa had been part of Ryan’s old team, back when he had played the game competitively, along with Jay, who he was speaking to now.

            “Someone’s car glitched.  It plowed straight into her.”

            “Oh shit,” Ryan said.  He stared at Jay, but the only face he got to see was Dash’s, half stoic and half cyborg.  “How is she now?

            “Not dead yet,” Jay said.  “We don’t know if that will change, or what sort of state she’ll be in if she lives.”

            There was a silence between them.  “Thanks for telling me,” Ryan said.  “Where is she?”

            “A hospital in New York.  We were—still are—there for the championship.”  Ryan had heard they’d made it in, though he’d had no plans to watch them.  It would be a bit too hard rooting for the half of the team he was still on speaking terms with, but not the half that was Jay and the man Jay had left him for.  Lisa had tried to stop all of that.  She’d offered to leave the team so there’d still be a slot for him, but he didn’t want it, so Jay’s new toy started playing Spark like she had, and Lisa moved to playing Zap like Ryan had.  Jay’s new toy just couldn’t get the hang of sphere mode, apparently.

            And then he realized why Jay was really here.  “You’re not just here to ask me to—”

            “Not just, not at all just,” Jay said, “but yes, we need someone to replace her, just for this one tournament.”  Only the top eight teams in the league qualified for the world championship event.

            Ryan stood, pushing his giant chair backward behind him.  It fell over, crashing into the metal floor.  “No!  Jesus Christ, Jay, no!  What the fuck is wrong with you?”

            “Alright,” Jay said.  “I’ll tell Sophia, and Lisa if she wakes up.”  Jay himself stood and began to walk toward the door of the base, as if this were a real base one would leave through the door rather than an instance in a video game one would leave with a command to Breach-bot.

            Ryan watched him, thinking he ought to leave himself, but somehow not doing so.  “Is he still on the team?” Ryan said, once Jay was several paces away.

            Jay turned around.  “Yes,” he said.  “Believe me or don’t when I say this, but Mitch was actually okay with sitting this one out for your sake.  It was the tournament organizer who put her foot down.  Replacing Lisa was one thing, but there could be no other changes.”

            It wasn’t like Ryan to hate someone, but he made an exception for the man who’d seduced Jay away from him.  In his clearer moments, he had to admit that things between him and Jay were doomed regardless, but Jay hadn’t cordially broken up with him over their issues.  Instead, he’d hooked up with someone he thought would take things more seriously.  “Why does it have to be me?”

            “Because you’re the best Zap player I know of and I don’t have time to find someone else.”

                “And you absolutely need a Zap?”

            “Our ideal arrangement includes one.  Hastily re-organizing our team would make our case hopeless.  We all need you, Ryan.  Lisa, Sophie and I.”

            “Fine,” Ryan said.

            “Thank you,” Jay said.  “Your travel expenses won’t be covered by Thunderware,” the company that owned Breach, “but I’ll pay you back for all of them.  You need to be in New York by seven tonight for the before-party.”

            “I’ll be there by five.  I want to see Lisa first thing.”

            “Alright,” Jay said.  He lingered a moment and then left.

            “Breach-bot,” Ryan said.  “Tell those guy’s that I’m sorry, but that I can’t make it back to them for now.”

            “Message sent,” the robot said.  Why couldn’t the car robots be as faithful as this one?

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