SAVE POINT 92
Reloading Multiplayer Mode...Flag Dilemma...100%
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1133388731320123424/5f42803f-a85a-42eb-bf25-44564d6707a6.png][https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1133410728754282516/bfcf21a9-b734-4160-9c3d-a12f366aed52.png]
Rosabella
They're not getting it; that flag is mine. I saw it first, and it's mine. I won't lose. I won't.
Adrenaline surges through me and, honestly, I forget all about babysitting Dormouse; I charge forward.
I race after the enemy brutes. Sparo flies up the stairs as my eyes lock on every detail of the new hallway: more brick, this one lined with a red carpet and a handful of wood doors with wrought iron hinges and handles. Which one leads to the other side? I see the yellow flag taunting me from the opposite side of the courtyard. The arched tower window makes it all too difficult. How do I get to it? Goddammit, I'm not going to have time to try all these doors—which one is my way over?! Indecision grabs me by both shoulders, shaking me.
Dormouse's Mimi avatar races past me, his green tag bobbing in the air over her head. "Hey, what does this lever do?" He turns blinking towards me on the couch.
...Lever???
My eyes dart towards his screen. Oh my God, it is a lever. He's found a switch that blended seamlessly into the hallway wall. It's drenched in shadow and sticking out from the hard, concrete floor. I would have never seen that...
"Hit it!" I all but shout.
And Mimi's avatar does, her little, white hand grasping the metal and yanking it back. The boy's screen goes to cutscene, depicting a creaking, wood bridge lowering to the other side of the fortress—right where the flag tower is! My breath catches in my throat, "Dormouse, that's perfect!"
"I really am a genius," the kid drawls, as Joy elbows him in the shoulder.
"Try to fit that pumpkin head through the door on the far side. You are not finished yet," the pink-haired girl rolls her eyes, "And your genius is like selective hearing. If there's anyone to fight, you're doomed."
"Thanks for that positive note," Dormouse quips. But excitement dribbles back into his voice, "Hey! There's hand grenades here!"
"Don't pick them up," Joy blurt.
But Dormouse grimaces, and I see Mimi already bending in his screen to do exactly that. The grenades absorb into her inventory.
"Are you serious?!" Joy fumes, "You won't even know how to throw them! You should have saved them for one of us!"
Dormouse shrugs, "Opps."
But I'm past his antics. I'm already overtaking him on the bridge, the running steps Sparo takes making 'plinking' noises over the wood boards. I can barely breathe from the drama of it all. That flag is the one thing that can save me, and we're discussing hand grenades? If they're not going to grab the flag, I will. "Come on!" I tell him, "We have to get to that flag before they do." I can already see the red enemy dots on the mini-map circling in closer around the tower; some are on the higher level and some are below. They're like bloodhounds on a scent. Hopefully we can grab the flag up while we still have a small lead.
"Ahhh!" Dormouse ducks in real life like it's going to help him in the game, "They're shooting!"
And my health bar tells the same:
Shit.
I try to duck, but we're out in the open on this damn bridge. "Go!" I yell, "Get the flag and come back. I'll cover you!" I watch Mimi's avatar shutter and jolt across the bridge with the typical, stunted movements as my stomach sinks. Oh God, I'm giving Dormouse—the kid who can barely play—the most important responsibility? This is bad. This is going to turn out bad.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
But I'm forced to concentrate on the targets—there's really no other choice. Bullets fly in my direction, pelting the air around me.
"Fuck off, dudes!" I tell the air, feeling the controller buzz as I'm hit repeatedly and pulling the trigger for my own fire.
Take that, motherfuckers.
I see their health bars clipped downward. If I can just keep this up so Dormouse can get the flag. I have to protect him. He's defenseless—barely able to shoot in the right direction. I need to hold them off to give the boy enough time—
"Uh—problem," the kid squeaks from next to me, but I can't look up—don't have time to look at his screen. I'm kind of in the middle of something. Bullets spray from the machine guns in Sparo's hands as I lock on the targets again, but they're returning fire this time. "What—no. No problems," I tell the kid sharply, "Just grab the flag."
"He already got it. Is that bad?"
Alarm screeches through me with such intensity that I almost drop my controller. I stop firing, and my eyes dart to his screen—
"That's one of our bots," Joy clarifies, "shoot the fucker, grab the flag, and let's win this thing."
It is one of our bots. The tactical-geared guy is holding the yellow flag, waving proudly over his head from the flagpole, and he's sprinting—
Straight into the wall. He's stuck, glitching and unmoving. Joy's right, he's going to have to shoot him—
"Shoot him?" Dormouse squeaks. Now, alarm is written all over his face. "I told you," he whispers fervently, "There's a lot of debate in The Gamer scene about whether people actually die from being shot in Multiplayer Mode—"
Joy rolls her eyes, "You don't die, you respawn—"
"If you have 'respawn' set on, and I don't remember!" Dormouse rushes, his face flushing brilliant red with anxiety. Mimi's avatar stands, still, mid-screen just watching the bot with the flag grind into the wall, going nowhere. "For all we know, that could be a very real man with—with a family and hopes and dreams. I am not a murderer—"
"Do you hear yourself?!" Joy explodes, "That's our flag—that's how we win. If we don't get it and win, Rosabella dies—in real life. Are you more concerned with the life of this potential jackass or the life of your friend?"
Wow. Joy. Respect gushes through me for the pink-haired girl whose eyes flash enraged fire on my behalf. She just defended me... But Dormouse's face is still ghost-white and torn, and I'm taking too heavy of fire to get to his avatar. I have Sparo crouch low to avoid it on the bridge, trying to get them back—
"I—" Dormouse bumbles, "Don't make me choose—a life is a life—ugh!" He throws down his controller to rub at his face with both hands, clearly upset and turning the pale skin there irritated red.
"Get out of my way," Joy growls.
And I see pink hair fly past Sparo on the bridge; I watch the girl's boots kick up behind her as she sprints into the tower behind the Mimi character.
And she brings up her grenade launcher.
POW.
Fire. Explosion.
The bot drops to the ground, blood leaking into a pool. The flag bobs—
"See, as easy as—" she starts, but green flashes by her pink hair. And, suddenly, the girl with green pigtails holds the yellow flag and zips past Joy and out the door.
"Oh no you don't!" I shout.
She can't—
That bitch can't win.
I won't let her.
I aim my weapon—
"Are you kidding me?!" Joy yells, her character barreling after the girl with grenade launcher raised too, "She is going down—"
"What can I do?" Dormouse pipes up.
"NOTHING," Joy and I answer together. If he manages to screw this up one more time—
Our eyes are locked on the screen, following the little, green target with the red enemy tag.
"What's your plan?" I ask Joy, letting my gun do the talking as I fire at EmeraldCity. She's firing too. The noise from the volley fills the room, making us have to scream over it.
"Mow her over, and take the flag," Joy tells me, "Plain and simple."
"Got it," I respond. I can do plain and simple.
But Joy's closer than I am with a better angle; her shots are doing more damage. I watch EmeraldCity weave around a stack of barrels to try to get some cover but—
POW.
EmeraldCity goes down.
The flag bobs in her place.
"Got it!" Joy screams, nearly standing on top of the sofa now. Her avatar lunges for the flag and grabs it. ...And it's like one of those battlefield movies where the fantasy girl is running through a spray of bullets, arrows and spears with barely any clothing on, her long hair sweeping back behind her, her face glossy and perfect, determination building steel in her eyes—
As she runs.
Sprints with the flag rippling over her shoulder—
"Cover me!" she shrieks.
And I race down the stairs to get closer to her, "Will do!"
But my body is tense.
Because, for whatever reason, it doesn't feel like this is over yet.