Thirty-five against four. Not exactly the odds he’d envisioned.

Suez dusted the sand off his wrist display and sent out a quick sonar pulse to track enemy movements. The cavern’s walls and ceiling rumbled from the distant explosions, and he considered his next move.

“What’s the play, captain?” said Luci, his second in command. She slammed a new clip into her assault rifle and peered down the scope.

“There’s a sniper’s nest about a click away from here,” Suez said to Luci and the two remaining grunts under his command. “If we can take them out with a grenade, we’d have their fortification.”

“Aren’t we already in a fortified position? Can’t we just stay here?” asked the newest recruit. His head swiveled after every mortar shell impact, no matter how close or far away.

Suez rolled his eyes. “We’re in a hidden position, but we’re sitting ducks here. It’s only a matter of time before they find us and cave in the whole place with us inside.” He glanced out the crack in the wall that led to the canyon riverbed. “Now’s our chance. You three lead, and I’ll take the back.”

The squadron activated the goggles on their helmets, protecting them from the sand swirling in the narrow canyon. One by one, they emerged from the cavern, squinting to adjust their view with the bright sun overhead. Instinctively, they trained their weapons to the top of the canyon wall towering above them. Satisfied they had emerged undetected, the squadron hugged the rock face as they crept forward, Suez bringing up the rear.

“Any hostiles coming up?” Luci asked on the private communication channel.

Suez tapped his display. The red dots pinging enemy locations had faded from the last pulse. “Sonar is resetting. Keep your eyes peeled. We’re flying blind right now.”

The faint staccato blasts echoed around them as the battle raged farther down the canyon. If they could get the jump on the soldiers up ahead, they could improve their odds. They were equipped to deal with most formations and tactics, except one.

Suez froze in place. The percussive blasts reverberated through the canyon, but that wasn’t the sound he focused on. It was faint, but he detected a low-frequency buzz from above.

“Hey guys, you hear that?” he said into his headset.

“Hear what?” Luci replied. She and the others continued ahead, not seeming to sense the danger. At the top of the canyon wall, loose dirt and gravel spilled over the side.

“Get for cover, you scrubs!” Suez sprinted back to where they had been, leaving the others behind. He doubted he could make it to the cavern, but they had passed a mounded bunker less than a minute before.

Missiles rained down from the top of the canyon wall. In a cloud of fire and dust, Luci and the other two soldiers disintegrated in less than a second. At least it was over for them quickly.

The mech reflected the oppressive sun, with every square inch of the hull protected by red metal armor. It descended from the canyon’s top, the thrusters on the bottom of each leg slowing it to a safe speed. Recognizing the buzzing of those thrusters was the only reason Suez had survived, unlike his incompetent squadmates. The mech landed with a thunk on the powdered remains of his unit.

Suez didn’t look back as he sprinted to the bunker. With his standard assault rifle, he had no chance against the armored behemoth seven times his size. If it had lost visual contact with him, he could sneak around it. That hope faded when automatic fire echoed throughout the canyon, bullets whizzing past.

Before the mech could lock on, Suez scurried to the back of the bunker, a reinforced mound jutting out of the dry canyon floor. He leaped through the open hatch and secured the door behind him with the heavy bolt.

Inside his dark, cramped space, Suez looked at the lit-up readout on his wrist communicator and weighed his options. He still had the EMP, and that would disable the mech. He could only use it once, but he didn’t see another choice. He unstrapped the EMP from his leg and pressed the button to charge it. The light on the rectangular device transitioned from red to green, indicating a full charge.

Without hesitation, he pressed the button on the side, and the invisible pulse emanated from it in all directions. His ears rang from the rumbling frequency, but otherwise, he was unharmed. Any mechs within the blast radius would not be so lucky.

Suez waited a moment and put an ear to the wall. The plodding footsteps had ceased, but no other noises were evident either. He hadn’t heard his opponent’s mech crash to the ground, but maybe that sound had been covered by the noise of the EMP itself.

Tentatively, he reached for the hatch and unbolted it with a ka-chunk. He poked his head out of the bunker and tried to find the remains of his opponent. The wind whistled through the empty canyon, and the eerie calm weighed on him. The mech should have just collapsed after that blast. The EMP didn’t have the power to vaporize.

After beating the odds and surviving this long, a single shot from above was the last thing Suez heard. He didn’t register what had happened until it was too late.

He yelped as he teleported into the white space, his troubles in the battle long gone. In the instant of elimination, the Sigorat server had sent him to this featureless room to give him the match summary and disconnect him.

He had never left his bedroom, but it would take a while to disconnect his mind safely. A melancholy orchestral track played in the background, and Suez shook with rage at hearing the song of defeat yet again.

“Snipers! Of course!” he shouted to nobody and hurled his assault rifle away. As it clattered on the ground, the gun blinked out of existence, and the other game assets unloaded from his avatar. “Every time it’s fucking snipers.”

Of course, the only reason he’d lasted long enough to get sniped was the enhanced hearing mod he’d equipped before the match. While illegal in elite play, his work-around made it undetectable to the moderators. Maybe a future patch would take this away, but he felt no need to put himself at a disadvantage.

Before leaving the intermediate space, he pulled up his game log to look at his stats from the match. He scrolled to the bottom to find the name of interest, one he had seen far too many times in the past.

Eliminated by Jay2517.

***

On the other side of the city, Jay removed the white immersion helmet from his head and blinked slowly, his eyes adjusting to the dark of his bedroom. He and his team had squeaked by with the victory, despite some mistakes from his teammates. They held the top position on the elite leaderboard, just in time for the regional play in a few weeks. They could take some time off and still be assured of a spot in the qualifying round.

He sat in front of his multi-station, with his keyboard and a myriad of other controls laid out before him. Sigorat required only the immersion peripheral and gloves, but his station gave him the tools for communication, schoolwork, and much more. The hardware curved around to his right side, leaving his left open to slide from his seat.

A notification flashed on the large screen in front of him. A communication request from a player not on his team. Jay had many rivals, but he didn’t recognize the moniker “Suez.”

He slipped on his headset and opened the chat. The screen displayed an audio notification, no video.

“Uh, hello?” Jay said into the microphone. “Your video feed isn’t working, just so you know.”

“I suppose you were proud of that, weren’t you?” said the uncanny voice broadcasting through Jay’s headphones. The rumbling baritone didn’t sound like a real person.

“Proud of winning?” Jay asked. “Well, sure. That’s why we play. By the way, Suez, how did you get my contact information?”

“Sure, just camp and shoot off easy kills,” Suez said, ignoring Jay’s question. “Picking on low-level players must make you feel so big and proud. You didn’t even let me emerge from the bunker before your cheap shot.”

“Oh, that was you?” Jay recalled staring down his sniper scope at the hapless player at the bottom of the canyon. “Well, if you keep making rookie mistakes, I’ll keep taking advantage of them. Sorry.”

“What mistakes?” Suez growled.

Jay rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “I’m not one to give advice, but this fact is so fundamental I’m sure one of your teammates will bring it up anyway. Everyone on the map can detect your EMP, genius. I was just the closest when you set it off, and it led me right to you.”

Suez didn’t respond.

“My teammate was too smart for that anyway.” Jay was still wearing his control gloves, and he idly pulled them off his hands, loosening one finger at a time. “So that you know, our mech controller She-fa had you trapped. But she wasn’t just going to stick around and get an EMP blasted in her face.”

“You prick.”

“Suez, there’s no need to be hostile.” Jay sighed. “I was in your shoes not long ago. You just have to level up and get more experience with Sigorat.”

“What if I just found your house and took a hammer to your multi-station?”

“Well, that sure escalated.” Jay checked that his chat was recording. He’d be covered if the conversation took even darker turns, and it would provide compelling evidence for any game moderators looking to censor toxic players. “Keep talking. I’d love to hear more of your witty banter.”

Suez disconnected from the call. The audio notification disappeared from the screen.

Jay opened his settings and blocked Suez from any more direct communication. Reporting him to the moderators wouldn’t be worth his time, so he didn’t attempt to save the temporary audio file. Instead, he started a new communication.

“Call Kalah,” he said into his headset.

Kalah, his second in command, attended the same academy as Jay, one year behind him. Strangely enough, they hadn’t realized they were classmates until they had already played several matches together. An avatar rarely looked the same as the player’s real-world appearance.

“Nice job, captain,” Kalah said as her face appeared on the screen. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

“Random question,” Jay said. “Have you heard of a player named Suez?”

“Should I have?” Kalah asked.

“Yeah, never mind. I just had a lovely conversation with one of our opponents. He took offense to my level of experience.”

“How dare you be good at something. You should be ashamed of yourself.” Kalah smirked and shook her head. “Anyway, how are we splitting up the grand prize in a few months?”

“Getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren’t we?”

“Our Sigorat team is in the top three worldwide,” Kalah said. “This isn’t some lofty goal. It’s very doable.”

“We actually peaked to number one after that match. So, yeah, even if we fall later, we’re up there. Just don’t buy anything on credit before we finish this thing.”

“Still, ten million would be a nice haul for the team. We’re still going to split it evenly, right?”

That would mean one million credits apiece for the ten players on the squad, which sounded a little more impressive than it was. With the recent currency change, ten credits bought a candy bar while eight hundred purchased a new game download. Still, a million credits were nothing to sneeze at.

“Yeah, an even split sounds fair,” Jay said. “Everyone’s been with us since the beginning. Even if you and I carry this team, we wouldn’t be this far without everyone else.”

“What would you spend your share on?” Kalah asked.

In the push towards the grand prize, Jay had neglected to think about what he would do with the windfall that awaited him. He supposed some or all of it could go to his college tuition. He didn’t delude himself into thinking he had a chance at merit scholarships, so the prize money was his best shot at paying for higher education.

Once, Jay had entertained the notion of playing Sigorat and other games professionally, but the mental reflexes faded fast, even among the best. The elite-tier players tended to be around the same age group, with university-aged competitors a rarity.

Jay knew his window for elite competition would close in a few years. Sacrifices had to be made to get to the top of the Sigorat leader-boards. His formal education had simply become another casualty along the way.