This piece may be, and most likely is, strange. It is oddly formatted, will take some time to read, and likely has little overall content to be gleaned. Many points may be difficult to grasp due to ill-explained concepts. It was written as an experiment in storytelling. If you have the time to waste, and feel like trying it out, give it a read and tell me what you think. If anyone likes it, I will tell his story in this format. If not, I will see if I learned something, and let this sink back into the forum sea.
The italic text represents what I think
The bold text represents what I say
The plain text represents what is.
3...
2...
1...
Launch
A frozen abyss. An eternity of waiting, floating in an empty void. No information to be found. Brooding. Waiting.
Loaded. The Buy menu appears. Smartlink is purchased almost automatically. The leftover funds remain...
should I risk them? Invest them? If they fall into enemy hands.... but if I die, I won't make much....
A decision. A resignation. The funds stay; I will not be getting my hands dirty.
well, as dirty, anyway. I'll let my teammates get some kills, but I'd be remiss if I didn't “defend myself”
A chuckle. Black humour, an attempt at a joke. Attention returns. This is no joke, this is a game.
The buy menu is closed. Setup time counts down. A quick establishment of authority; nonsensical words to sooth the unprepared and unaware into compliance
Listen up guys, we need to form up and stick together this first round; they're going to want to pick us off, so let's fight with numbers. Don't be afraid to fall back behind your friends
A few rolled eyes. I can tell, even without seeing their faces. A few somehow find the words inspiring or informative, despite probably having heard them dozens of times. The words have their effect; no one questions my lead.
The timer ends. The match has begun.
let's just try to get some kills this round; if I don't make enough to tech up, I'm going to get stomped.
I'll head one team going right; the rest of you hit apartments. Be careful; they'll be expecting you.
none of them are smart enough to flank us on the first round, the tunnels will stay empty. Invitingly so....but now isn't the time to be a hero.
A rush. Gunfire breaks out. Our groups collide. Apartments are a bloodbath; to be expected, since the enemy holds the high ground, but our team performs well in the alley. Shootouts break down into skirmishes, then chases. The round ends; it hardly matters who even won.
Round 2. Enough for teleport.
I'd be stupid to get Enhanced Vision. Teleport it is. SMG too? It'd be a waste not to.
too early for tech... this round is going to be bloody. A gamble? I think they might...
They'll be rushing alley with all their forces, for sure I lie. Set up in wait, then attack as they pass. Wipe them out in one swoop.
time to chip in. Teleport to the roof. Wait for the convoy. They'll be here any second.....jackpot.
My call was correct. The entire enemy team runs past, charging towards our spawn.
I can't check my chamber is cleared; it's just a video game. No nervous habits
I press the reload key, though I haven't fired a shot since spawning. Time drags, they're almost past our formation.
A beeping. A blurred yellow trail. A grenade arcs out. Whether I threw it or a teammate matters not. Many more follow. The ground below is covered in a haze of pressure waves. As the last grenade explodes, a strike team teleports through the wall and opens fire on the dazed enemy group. They did well not to screw up and get caught in the blast. The rest of my team and I teleport or jump down and begin opening fire. Smartlink is so convenient when shooting near friendly units.
A round over. A fat wallet. A clear message sent to the other team
clean your shit up and start guessing our moves, or else.
Money for technology, and technology for money; the cycle continues. I hit the purchase button. Enhanced Vision is online.
Another match begins. A red pulse envelops the world. Everything becomes clear. 12 contacts at distance 120m moving on out-of-spawn trajectories. The pulse fades and daylight returns; Enhanced Vision begins to recharge.
One team is moving high in alley; wait back in spawn on the ledge and drop down on them as they enter. Their apartment squad is moving to high ground; move underneath and teleport right up into them. The rest will probably be rushing us through the tunnels, teleport with me through this patch of ground in 5...4...
Enhanced Vision is recharged, but I don't need it for this. After all, where's the sport in that?
...1.
Gunfire. Screams. Bodies with weapons for looting. The world turns red, I see my other squads doing well; this will end shortly.
Four out of five rounds won. The enemy team hasn't even put up a fight. I barely even use Enhanced Vision any more; I save it to guide my aim when I go for the kill. Red dots appear every so often; the enemy is equally equipped.
It's not your tech, it's the brains it's riding, amatures.
My men have their orders well in advance; knowing their positions does little, and many times just fuels my enemy's overconfidence. Most of my force through one tunnel, the enemy moves to flank. Suddenly, smoked players appear behind them. SMGs fire. My main force never fired or received a shot; 3 players have killed 6 with ease.
I stroll through the battlefield picking my prey as I see fit. Neither stone wall nor blinding speed or distance will stop my eyes or my gun; as for bullets, if they're shooting, odds are I'm already behind them.
I told them to hold sewer exit, and not to pursue.... huh, that means....
I wait a beat and roll a grenade down a nearby manhole. A concussive thud, a scream, and the wisp of a soul escaping his mortal coil. My team moves in to clean up the rest. I told them to hold the exit, but they aren't idiots for the most part; they know that orders change and that I would warn them of any danger.
Everything was easy; the future was as clear as breath....until he came...