*BEEP BEEP BEEP*
The harsh alarm of the buzzer throbbed in the ears of the participants as they suited up in the locker room before their big match. Reinmar von Eschenbach, the teams top player, was completely focused, it was his killer mindset, he was a professional, this wasn’t just a game to him. He crawled, like a man into his own skin, into the flaming white latex jumpsuit. A teammate turns to him and says: “Reinmar, lets pwn some faggots out there today.” Reinmar agrees, nodding his head, his bright eyes brimming with confidence in the skills of himself and his elite team.
The jumpsuits around Reinmar, the ones worn by his teammates, all swarm with corporate logos. Reinmar’s own is emblazoned with the neon green logo of Alienware, his preferred sponsor. The team begin their ritualistic walk down the corridor to the arena, their hearts now start to stir in anticipation. The adrenaline begins to energize their veins like retweets through a hashtag as it’s just about to go viral. Before them, the heavy doors slide open and one by one they step up onto the game platform.
A military man, garbed in the casual looking uniform of the Califor Sovcorp, stands waiting for them.
“Gentlemen,” he speaks to them.
“Gentlemen, the mission today is Scenario: Extraction.
“The Target: Enemy intelligence stored on a server in Mosul
“Expect heavy resistance. A company of enemy troops is deployed throughout the wreckage of the city to guard it.”
“Any other players?” Reinmar asks his commanding officer
“A blue team of no more than 4 enemy players is currently livestreaming a sentry mission from Sharia zone 734B”
“Four, from London? Jfc, General,” Reinmar replies. As team leader he has a responsibility for his players, it’s a burden the General sometimes didn’t seem capable of understanding.
“Soldier, you have your orders, carry them out.” the General answers.
At this General Megaton signals the officer standing by to bring in the controllers. “Finally,” Reinmar thinks to himself, “it’s about time we got this show on the road.”
Offering them up to the players, one by one, the armory officer distributes the realistic gun shaped controllers among them. One by one the players begin to check the loadouts to make sure the proper modifiers have been applied. One by one Reinmar’s teammates lower their visors and look to him to initiate the scenario. Finally, satisfied all is right with his team’s gear, Reinmar gives the appropriate signal to the General to begin play of the game.
The milky white sphere encapsulating them goes dark. The walkways withdraw, barely audible in their engineered precision. The game begins.
[The field report corresponding to this match, #38153c, has been designated Top Secret by the Califor central command until the year 2142. It has therefore been redacted from this story. The following transcript of the player voicelog is the only record of this mission released under a freedom of information act request by the author:
Reinmar: — — — — — — — — — , you prick.
Wolfram: — — — , lol, — — — — — —
Dietmar: Alright homos, — — — , — — — — — -
Heinrich: Reinmar, you got — — , on your — —
Reinmar: Roger niner, I am — — — to — — —
Wolfram: Deploying the small soldiers.
Reinmar: — — — — — — — — — !!!!
What intelligence we can glimpse from this, will be left to the reader to decide.]
Another mission successfully completed, the lights in the orb once more come up. The walkways glide smootly into place. The hatches open. General Hobeska Metatons comes in to debrief them.
“Boys, that was one hell of match, the intelligence you recovered will no doubt prove to be invaluable to the war effort.”
“And just what information did we collect, the location of another drone factory, more auto-troop placements out in the god forsaken desert? What are we even fighting for these days?” Reinmar questions, in his usual forsaken tone.
“No, Reinmar,” General Megaton answers, “it’s something bigger than that this time. The Altar of Dagon.”
Reinmar’s eyes go wide.
“I think you’ll understand when I tell you that information has been designated above top secret. But considering that you’re the team who’ll most likely be assigned to the mission, there’s no harm in telling you now. The Altar has been spotted in Syria.”
Though himself uncertain as to the significance of this information, Reinmar nods, if only to acknowledge his cognisance of his duties. The other players, meanwhile, begin to murmur at the edges of their conversation.
“What about their stats, General.”
“Oh yes, of course boys, very good viewership on the stream for this one. 1 Million new subscriptions. Over 100 Million views.”
Reinmar could tell his team was pleased by this news, he could see it in their eyes, a leader always tell when his people where really happy, and when they were just bearing it and being strong. Reinmar feels pride in his leadership.