This was it: the final approach.

After what to both real, flesh and blood people had seemed to be a near year of endless obstacles, irritations, annoyances, and no small manner of fun, Axton and Thomas had no more foes, no more enemies, and no more walls between them and those two blasted Champions. That last, desperate gambit that those two cheating NPCs had pulled had failed, and now all that remained of their added force were a number of scorch marks and shredded materials.

The way was clear, and all that remained was to meet those fuckers in the arena in the center of the ruined city. Both of their War Suits had been repaired this last time, their remaining damage being purely cosmetic and nothing more.

In a few dozen places on each giant, piloted killer robot, the scars of battle remained, but they were, at this point, nothing more than places where the paint had been worn away by bullets, bombs, and other such things. And, while this left a great many places with nothing but shining metal exposed to the open air, this was acceptable to both Players/ Outworlders.

The paint did add a bit of protection, sure, but that same level of protection was merely wafer-thin in comparison to the regular armor. Sure, there may yet be a time when a millimeter or so of paint could be just enough to keep a shell or energy blast from doing too much damage, but if that was ever to be the case then it meant that the shot or impact would have been dangerous enough without such flimsy defenses.

And, yes, some paint added protection against certain effects, such as corrosives, thermal weapons, and maybe even energy blasts, but that shit was fucking expensive and had to be applied completely fresh after each battle. That paint, while powerful, was only available in the cash shop, and Axton, at the very least, didn’t much care to spend his and Thomas’ money on a single-use, pay-to-win tool like that, especially when the benefit was negligible at best.

And so, with the last obstacles removed and their final trek now unimpeded, the two War Suits carried their pilots towards the giant dome in the center of the destroyed metropolis and to their final battle. As they moved onwards, Thomas checked something on his HUD, smiling and giving his friend a thumbs up.

Axton noticed and smiled back, giving a knowing nod as his friend confirmed that they were now on-air. While he was not allowed to make any media or any money based on said media due to the company that made this game throwing a hissy fit after he didn’t sign away his rights in exchange for a pittance of a gig-economy wage, Thomas was under no such restrictions.

Thomas had been recording everything up till now, having had Axton wear a camera and mic even when the two were separated, along with having Franken equipped similarly. Thomas had, of course, been streaming their antics since day one, and those streams were then cut up and edited by some very highly paid people after the streams ended.

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Axton may not have been able to be hired by that company, but Thomas now paid him a very sizable wage instead, and that was to say nothing of the donations he received from viewers. Add on top of that the fact that in-game materials and objects could be sold in-game, and that said funds gained from such sales could be turned into real-world money, and Axton’s bank account just kept getting bigger.

And while that all was good, the number of viewers watching the stream from one or both perspectives had increased drastically. After all, the big, final battle was nearly upon them all, and many a person wanted to watch Axton, a person who was, essentially, just a very lucky ‘normal’ person like them, kick the asses of a bunch of NPCs who had gone out of their way to cheat and ruin the Battle Royale for many of their fellow real-life people.

…

The two NPCs in question held their position in the center of the arena. They could not run any longer, nor could they bring out some other ace to throw into the fray so that they could claim victory by default.

Their deaths were not merely a matter of ‘if’, but instead merely ‘when’, as they knew for a fact that, even if they survived this battle, they would find space to be a death trap just waiting to end them no matter where they ran or who they asked for help. And so, their only, and I do mean only chance of living a little bit longer was to kill Axton and Thomas, or at the very least render their War Suits inoperable.

But would they stop there, with the two opposing War Suits unable to fight on? No, not by a long shot. They were both pissed as all hell, and they intended to make an example of Axton and Thomas, even though it would be a futile endeavor as the two were both immortal Outworlders.

All they could do was rail against the doom that was approaching, but they would face that doom with gusto. Once the two Outworlders arrived, they would put on a show, and then they would claim one last final victory, all before ending their lives on their own terms.

Once the two Outworlders fell, they would head to the console that linked this place to the myriad geothermal reactors that still were somehow online, and once there, they would press a few buttons and consign this world and all on it to oblivion. With a few keystrokes, the planet’s volcanic vents and countless geothermal areas would go off all at once, and the continental place would crack under the strain.

The planet would not tear itself apart, but it would be overwhelmed by hundreds of volcanic eruptions, three super volcanoes going off, planet-wide earthquakes, and much, much more.

They would go down as the planet died around them, and that would deliver one last “fuck you” to those that wanted them dead. But it was nearly time for the show to begin, and they would take great pleasure in seeing it end the way that they wanted it to.

While they could not have the easy victory that they had gained so many times up till now, they would at least show those still watching one hell of a good time. After dropping the ratings so much, year after year, as they toyed with their foes with cheats and hacks, they owed those still watching that much, no?