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Author's Preface: The world described in this text is parallel to our own. The original difference from our story was that the gods of the ancient world were not the fruit of myths but real ones, and many ancient legends were not fairy tales but descriptions of real accomplishments.
Once upon a time, three ancient gods rebelled against their brethren. They sided with Rome, against Athens and Olympus, and... And won... Hades, Ares, and Aphrodite were the names of the winners. Having won, they merged into one, becoming a true deity as superior to the ancient gods as those were superior to ordinary humans. His name is the Threfaced Aphares. And all other deities of the Earth were overthrown and fed to Cronus, for there was no place for them, and most importantly, there was no need for them anymore. For the Earth has found the true deity - the One.
Despite this global difference, due to the fact that the influence of parallel worlds on each other is great, after the Ascension of the Three Faced limited its influence on the World, and this Earth goes familiar to us. Even the outlines of many countries are similar to those to which we are accustomed, although the names of these countries are often different, and populated by different peoples. Technological progress is also moving in the same direction. But despite all the external similarities, it is still a different world, which has something that we do not.
A necessary preface: game and household slang, as well as the names of months, days of weeks, and other everyday little things are given in the transcription we are accustomed to, but we should not forget: this world is different. As an example: in ancient Rome, the gods were not renamed and there were no names Jupiter, Mars, etc. Accordingly, the saying "What is allowed to Jupiter is not allowed to bull" will sound almost the same, but Jupiter will be replaced by Zeus. Also, because of the reality of the deities, the world language is not English, but a modified Greek, though, based on the Latin alphabet (since Ancient Rome was also a great empire here at one time). That is, the phrase: "it was in July" for the heroes of the book sounds "it was in hecatombeon," but for the convenience of reading all such sayings are represented by their familiar analogs.
Wishing: Have a nice and interesting read, my dear readers, my big thanks to you and the Muse for being there!
Dedicated to Danila, my oldest son
BOOK 1
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"Coach Luis Gaada confirmed the long-rumored fate of the best sprinter of the last decade, multiple World Cup winner and Olympic gold medalist, holder of five world records, fast-footed Tarin Valdes. As many of our readers assumed, he did not return from the Temple. Once again I want to ask you the same question: "Is your Life worth the chance to be Heard? Are we humans so weak and can't do anything without divine patronage?!" I honestly can't understand why the best of the best in the profession, for the sake of improving their own record by another hundredth of a second, would dare to pass the Arch? Apparently, Tarin thought he should. And he died, leaving his two children fatherless. Frankly speaking, for me, it is stupid, fatal stupidity..." Excerpt from an article in "All About Sports" magazine.
"Three days of mourning have been declared in Galia. We all remember yesterday's tragedy that shook the entire world. Five doctors of the Children's Hospice secretly took twelve children out of the hospital grounds and walked the Arch with them. No one came back. We are all human and understand the motives of the medical staff, but who gave them such a right - to dispose of the lives of children, other people's children?! After what happened, the government of Galia once again promised to tighten control over minors entering Temples..." Excerpt from "World News" program
"Again we mourn the loss. A loss that might not have happened. Everyone in our city is a well-known businessman and philanthropist, sponsor of many children's art exhibitions Juvin Grogovog has not returned from his pilgrimage..." Excerpt from an article in the city newspaper Kitezh Digest
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Chapter 1
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"Herd! Where are you all going?! Who's going to cover the "highway?!"
In response to this indignant tirade from one of the team medics a few smiling smiley faces appeared in the chat, that was the reaction. In fact, nothing has changed, eight out of ten players of our team immediately after the start of the game session rushed to capture the "high ground". To write something in a chat about such behavior of the teammates was quite pointless, it is an ordinary random session, not a team pool, here such things are in the order of the day. Getting mad at those with whom you had to play this time is as pointless as getting mad at the sea for the noise of the surf. You can, of course, get angry, and yell, no one forbids it, but what's the point?
In addition, just the day before yesterday in the network appeared another noob guide from one of the game idols, a stormtrooper of the professional team "Legion of Augusta" under the nickname "Supmen". Dedicated to this map. It was argued that the point, called in the common parlance "high ground", representing the ruins of a multi-story building, is the key in this arena. That is, the occupation and retention of this position are the key to victory. Of course, "Supman" also spoke in his video about the need to distribute roles, allocate a sniper for cover, and send at least one medic for counterintelligence, because only this class was able to detect enemy stealth scouts at a sufficient distance using the bio scanner.
He also mentioned the cutoff group that guarded the west, a long and narrow street that stretched for nearly two hundred and fifty meters. In gaming slang, this street was called "The Highway". But who of the ordinary players fully understood it? Few, and those who even fully appreciated the tactics proposed by "Supman", still do not want to put it into practice in the regular game. Why not? Because it's Tartarusian random, that is, a game session with randomly chosen players, both opponents and allies. That means you can't count on anyone, because you don't know what kind of game skills those who get thrown into the same team with you have. But that's not even the main point. The problem is that there is no teamwork, which is the reason why all the clever tactics and strategies are doomed to fail in advance.
People unfamiliar with the team session shooters say: "Well, there you can write to each other all that you think necessary, and you can connect a headset to communicate in the team voice chat. But this seemingly logical idea turns out to be erroneous in practice. Explaining tactics to random people, typing something into the chat room ten seconds before the start of the session, is a difficult task in itself. I would even call it impossible. Text messaging is good for short messages. It is even better to key in some standard phrases: "Stand back", "Change position", "Cover" and the like, than in the lightning shooter gameplay trying to type something meaningful. This will certainly be detrimental to character control and environmental monitoring. Phrases like the one written by the medic are possible only at the beginning of the game when the enemy is still far away, and there is no risk of being shot while distracted by typing.
With a headset and voice communication turned on, everything changes: it is undoubtedly more convenient and comfortable to control, command, and mark with your voice. Except that I, like ninety of a hundred players, have this option disabled in random battles. Hearing squeals, foul language, threats from strangers bore most of those who don't like swearing within an hour, or even earlier. And even if you have nerves of iron, and you want to convey to the rest of the team, what tactics are best to implement, you still no one will listen, because "why are you ordering?! My tactics are better!". Alas, everyone is eager to command. And obey a stranger nobody is eager to, which is logical in principle: why is this random person is eager to command you - this game is as much his as yours!
In general, I was not at all surprised by this kind of start to the match. It's not the first time I've encountered herd instinct in games, so I know perfectly well that the same thing is happening to the opposing team right now. Unlike other similar games, "Battle Arena of Avalon" does not allow pre-assembled teams in random battles. Implemented simply, in the game menu, you press the "random match" button, and the server picks you as a team and opponents. Of course, you can accidentally meet in your match acquaintance, but taking into account that the average daily online in the BAA has more than twenty million users, the probability of such a meeting is quite small. So by the universal law of symmetry, our "herd" is leveled by the same or similar on the other side. And this conclusion can already be used to your advantage, which is what I was going to do.
It was also a plus in this situation that the medic did not run with everyone else, but hid behind one of the corners and prepared to repel a possible attack. The medic is the weakest class in the BAA, so he wouldn't have been able to do much fighting alone. The only thing he could have done that would have been of use to the team was to inform them of the enemy's breakthrough on that flank. There are two possibilities, either the player is a complete novice and doesn't understand that he can't do much damage with his character, or it's a conscious "sacrifice" of a more or less experienced player. For me, both possibilities are stupid, the place of the medic next to the other fighters.
His job is either to heal or to detect a hidden enemy using the bio scanner, the unique equipment of this class. That is, as an anti-stealth unit or as a target highlighting in dense urban areas, any attempts to play otherwise make this class practically useless. And yet, if the second option is true, then he at least tries to play as a team, to the extent of his intelligence and experience, and this can already be used.
A quick right-click on the medic's nickname opens the private message bar. And then the usual combination of clicks, for which I do not need to look at the keyboard or the screen, opens access to the macros messages. The result of literally three clicks and the cost of time, which fit into a second interval and did not distract me from the movement to the selected place, was the message addressed to the medic: Light up, I'll cover.
At this point my railgun could easily shoot through the entire playing field, but who knows, maybe one of my opponents had taken the ranger class, or maybe one of their stormtroopers had bought holographic camouflage. The problem for me was that the "ranger" is not easily distinguishable due to the special skill of their class, and experienced players can get so close to you that you don't realize it before their power blade stabs you in the back and stop your game.
This class is not very popular in the casual game. In urban arenas, which are almost half of the BAA, it is very difficult to play, you need not only thoroughly know all the game maps, all the nooks, lofts, etc., but also remember how to fall shadows from buildings or trees. It's hard, no, I'm not kidding, really hard, to those who are one hundred percent able to realize the power of this game class, I feel a little envy, I would their memory! Stormtroopers usually prefer armor class higher than the holographic camouflage, there is an option in the game, to replace one with the other. But those who play as stormtroopers, use it very rarely.
And yet there is always the possibility that from the other side is not just another ordinary player, someone who has come to the game to relax after a hard day or turned it on for fun, but someone who is like me. You should always take this possibility into account, so the medic is a very good thing here.
Everyone expects snipers to occupy the high ground and provide themselves with the widest possible kill sector. On average this is even the right expectation, that's how almost everyone plays, almost...
Instead of using the building behind me as cover and thereby providing myself with a height advantage as well as cover and maximizing the enemy's detection range, I ran forward, even beyond where the medic was crouched.
Where are you going? A message from him immediately popped up in my chat box.
If I hadn't been so lazy, I might have explained to him why I was doing it, or just dropped off a link to a video of the last Avalon Cup, where one of the matches took place in this very arena, but instead, I pressed three times and "enter" again: Move forward, I've covered it.
The medic froze for a second, apparently wondering why he should obey someone's orders, and besides, this "someone" is carrying a "rail" - the iconic weapon of all newbies. Because everyone knows that despite the fact that it's the only gun in the game that can kill anyone with a single accurate shot regardless of the type of defense and even ignores the kinetic shields of engineers, after each shot the railgun overheats and takes nine seconds to cool down, and that's too long for an adequate game. In addition, the most powerful powder sniper reloads for only one and a half seconds, and the shot from it, hitting the head, can also kill anyone, if he is not covered by a force field.
In the end, after a bit of dabbling with the rail, everyone changes it for a more rapid-fire and practical weapon. Seeing my basic rifle, anyone would assume that I was either a newbie, or that I was in the game "for fun", that is, just having fun, and I didn't care about the result. If I wanted to shoot with a rail, it's a game, so why should I deny myself such a simple desire? It's a random, not ranked game, here victory or loss does not affect the game statistics, so playing for fun in this mode is quite normal. There is also a third option, but no one considers it as too unlikely...
As the medic's decision had little influence on my further actions - whether he would help or not I could manage without him - I did not wait for him. I ran, huddled on the north side of the street, past the figure with the scanner in his left hand and, as soon as the timer from the start of the match measured twenty-three seconds, crouched behind a half-destroyed concrete slab. By the twenty-fourth second, at most by the twenty-sixth, the opposing players should have had time to get from their starting position to positions suitable for a line-of-sight shot, so finding cover by then is a vital necessity if you don't want to be pelted with lead at the start of the match.
Most players don't bother with such timings, and by the twenty-fourth second no enemy would likely have time to cover that part of the map, simply because it's just random, not a game of cybersport teams. Yes, I could easily have run farther and taken a more advantageous position closer to the middle of this straight as an arrow street, and it was probably safe enough, given the possible level of my opponents. But good habits are too hard to develop, and they are forgotten too quickly, so I always try to play as if I were a Diamond League-level player, no less.
The fact that my precaution was unnecessary was confirmed quickly enough. The medic, who had decided to listen to me, ran straight down the middle of the street without hiding from anyone. If it had been me on the other side, he would have seen a bloodstained screen in front of him, and the words "You are dead". But he ran calmly to one of the corners about forty meters ahead and took cover behind it.
In my month and a half of playing "random battles" I still can not get used to this kind of a mess. I'm always tempted to bang my forehead against the wall when I see someone running around in the open and surviving. But since I have only one forehead, I, after overcoming myself, still refrain from such a display of emotion.
Clear.
The medic informs me that he can't see any enemies on the scanner. Well - well done, although in this case, it was not necessary. So, if the enemy herd is as rushed to the "high-point" as ours, then the "highway" at most has two or three people to cover, and they sit in a half-destroyed two-story mansion at the end of the street. Why? Because it's the most convenient position for the defense, with the ability to quickly change firing spots. There are three ways to knock the enemy out of such a shelter: the first - a massive attack with the support of at least one heavy infantryman with a machine gun; the second - a long detour by a gamekeeper in the hope that the mansion is not a medic; the third - a sniper attack.
A lot of people think that the attacking classes are Rangers and Stormtroopers, while the Heavy Infantry and Snipers are the defense. In principle, they're right; that's pretty much how it is. But as with any rule, there are exceptions. What is the advantage of an assault rifleman over a sniper in an attack? Armor, powerful rapid-fire weapons, slightly faster movement speed - quite a difference. But all these advantages mean nothing if the first bullet hits the Stormtrooper in the forehead.
A month ago, at World League qualifiers, the Herakalides team, having already secured selection, went into three games with six sharpshooters in the lineup. They won two attacks out of three. In the future, of course, they did not take such risks, but the fact that they were able to do so proves the high efficiency of the snipers in the attacking action. True, there is a nuance: the reaction, precision positioning, and understanding of the game in people who have decided to use this class for such actions should be at the highest level. Because if your shot missed the enemy will not give you a second try, especially if you are holding the "rail". After a miss, you'll have to change it for a pistol, and it's not the best argument against machine guns and assault rifles, and the snipers in this game were not given any armor...
Any smoke? I ask my random partner if he has any smoke grenades. This phrase had to be typed in manually, because it is impossible to assign all situations to the "hot" keys, and there is no immediate threat yet.
I have.
It's already good, I won't have to struggle.
Count to five and throw it in front of you in the middle of the street.
Why?
Do it and you'll see.
Ok...
The ellipsis in his last message seemed to express an extreme degree of doubt about the adequacy of my request, but it was easier for him to agree than to argue.
I moved to the very edge of the slab and pointed the sight in the direction of the enemy. The fact that all I could see now was gray, shabby concrete didn't mean much. All I had to do was press one key, and my character would shift smoothly to the left, and the barrel of the railgun would already be pointed at the desired point. What floor will be the enemy's cover? The second is optimal, there are two points from which you can fire, it's easy to move between them, and also the view is very good. It's a good place for a sniper as well as for a heavy machine gun.
In the attic, although there is no floor in that building for a long time, there are ceiling beams on which a sniper can easily place himself. The advantage of this point is the best view, the disadvantage is only one: you can change position quickly only by jumping down, i.e. it is essentially a one-shot shot. The first floor is the worst, you can not see the "highway" farther than a hundred and twenty meters, but there are plenty of shelters. If there are stormtroopers on the cover, that's where they will be. Not knowing what to expect from the enemy, I moved the sight to the level of the second floor, stopping in my thoughts on this averaged option.
I had managed to count to seven when there was a distinctive bang and thick smoke ahead.
The enemy has three options when he sits in the "highway" defense and sees smoke in the middle of the street. The first option, and the most dangerous, is a counterattack, which is possible if the enemy did not think to sit back and go forward, as I did with the medic. Underneath us, the stormtroopers or rangers can easily get in a clinch and destroy us. If there are more than two of them in such a scenario, we have lost. But such a counterattack can be undertaken only by an experienced team, otherwise, it is doomed to failure. A mismatch of a second in such an attack would be fatal, so I wasn't too worried about the possibility of this happening, given the game mode I had set up.
In the second case, seeing the smoke, an experienced sniper will lie low and wait, a beginner will start shooting at random, and the pro-player will make one shot on the most likely trajectory of the attack and immediately roll away or fall from the ceiling beam down. The third option is if there is a deployed heavy infantry firing point. Then it is likely to be given several bursts of cut-off or heavy suppressive fire. Since good players will never let a heavy without an engineer, then after these bursts will be a barrage of grenades and a change of position. The third option is the most effective, because if you don't have time to do everything clearly or run into a great sniper, then even a hit in the head for a puller under the kinetic shield, imposed on him by the engineer, is not fatal. With one exception: my "rail" ignores forcefields. But this weapon is so rare at high levels of the game, where such bundles are used, that usually, no one takes it into account.
Hearing the sound of the first shot in a long burst, I realized at once that a twelve-millimeter Bear, a universal heavy machine gun of Slavic manufacture, was working down the street, smashing into the rubble of insufficiently strong shelters and slicing corners of bricks. The player operating this fearsome machine of death knew something about the game. His first shot drew the street from corner to corner at knee height. But, to his misfortune, no one was running for the fumes, and his bullets passed at a perfectly safe height for me. As I assessed the first tracer, I moved immediately, freeing up my firing vector.
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Of course, as a result of the smokes put up, I couldn't see anyone, and neither could the machine gunner. But "nobody" doesn't mean "nothing". I could see the flashes of fire shooting out of the barrel of the Tartarus device, and that was all I needed. As I'd hoped, the enemy had taken cover on the second floor, so I didn't have to adjust my sights vertically; all I had to do was make a quick movement with my hand, aiming just above the center of the flashes, and click the left mouse button.
The turbulent currents caused by the flight of a red-hot metal particle, which my rail spit out at a speed beyond the reach of any gunpowder weapon, formed a short-lived corridor of clear air in the smokescreen. It was quickly drawn in, but I managed to see that I hadn't missed it. And also that next to the falling body of the already dead stormtrooper was clearly discernible an antenna, which gave away the engineer sitting near the firing point. This meant that running just ahead, despite the suppressed machine gun, would not be the right thing to do.
Take cover!
Such a situation, when you have to take cover from dense fire or from a barrage of grenades in the game is quite common, so I had a special key for this case, too. Without waiting for the medic's reaction, immediately after the shot I put the railgun in my inventory and armed myself with the Puma, a five-shot large-caliber revolver. In case of an unplanned encounter, I needed at least something for self-defense while the main weapon was in overdrive. This shift was so practiced that it became something at the level of reflexes. I changed my rail to revolver after each sniper shot, doing it unconsciously, on full automatic. Exactly eight seconds, and then I changed it back. The coach once stood behind me with a stopwatch during an official game. I fired six shots as the game went on, and it was always the same eight seconds.
With my revolver in my hand, I did not, of course, rush forward down the street, but when I reached the edge of the smokescreen I jumped into the nearest ruins, where I climbed up the second floor by the remains of the stairs and, navigating between the gaps in the floor, ran forward. Soon I had to jump down, alas, but the "highway" through the attics could not be crossed. But this way I avoided the main danger, having correctly assessed the situation and calculated the actions of the enemy engineer. He immediately discharged all six rounds of his portable grenade launcher into the smoke as soon as he realized his partner had been killed. Counting down the sixth explosion, I threw my only smoke grenade. I jumped onto the cobblestone sidewalk and rushed forward as fast as I could. The smoke was probably unnecessary. If anyone else had covered this pair, he would have opened fire long ago and exposed himself away. The engineer was helpless for the next dozen seconds while his mini-artillery was reloading.
The only reasonable thing for him to do was to run away. Especially since he had earned his fragment. Judging by the minimap, my medic ran straight ahead, not on top, and was hit by a grenade rain with a fatal outcome for himself. Apparently, he thought he was smarter than some newbie with a newbie-gun in his hands. Well, that's his choice, and he'll reap the consequences. Except that suppressing enemy targeting fire by using smoke bombs in potentially dangerous situations is something that was almost literally hammered into me when I started training as part of the student cyber sports team at the University of Technology of New Geneva on BAA. I may have thrown smoke for nothing, as the opponents are not of a very high level, but that's no reason to relax and go easy. No reason for me.
I don't know what rank this engineer usually plays at, but he managed to surprise me. Instead of running away (thereby buying time to reload the grenade launcher and helping his team by continuing to defend his flank), he decided to ambush me. I set up behind a wall in a shaded corner that allowed two entrances to the ruined mansion to be shot through at once. Since the only personal weapon available to his class besides the grenade launcher was the Pint, a seven-millimeter rapid-fire pistol (difficult to kill anyone with it in this game), it's not clear what he was counting on. Even to take a sniper out of the game - a character without armor and helmet, it was necessary to hit him twice in the head with the Pint. And who is going to let himself be shot in peace?
I definitely didn't intend to get myself into that kind of trouble. Besides, engineers can carry two mines with them. Perhaps he relied on them? For the sake of mines, and because the class can put kinetic shields on co-combatants, which temporarily increase resistance to bullet damage, the engineers are taken as part of the team.
Even though I was sure of the enemy's fleeing, I threw a stun grenade before I ran into the room, acting on complete automaticity. I didn't burst through the front door but took advantage of the fact that my character had no armor and, therefore, could jump higher than the stormtroopers, and slipped through the long-broken and battered window. The enemy was wrong in his tactics, of course, but he knew how to shoot! He managed to react, and the first shot hit me in the leg, only slightly reducing my hitpoints and my movement speed by twenty percent for half a minute. It didn't do him any good, though. He didn't have time to pull the trigger a second time. There was no point in aiming for the head, so I shot faster than usual. Since engineers don't wear body armor, my response pierced his chest through and through.
The kill counter, located in the upper left corner of the screen, silently spun to the number two.
As the initial observations showed, the enemy had two men to cover the "highway". Full "flock" symmetry with our team turned out! This observation caused a fleeting smile.
During the time it took to reload the railgun, I managed to climb up on the roof and lay in the shade, after which I put my main weapon back in my hands and looked through the sniper scope at the enemy's rear.
I could hear the sounds of intense gunfire coming from the high ground. The average game on this map lasts between three and six minutes, but now it was barely a second one. So, most likely, the first phase of the battle is underway. What can this observation tell me? This phase is the least messy and hectic, everyone tries to play "correctly", there are no significant gaps in defense yet, and no one comes in from behind and drops down from above, breaking the initial game plan. Or rather, that's usually the case, but not this time.
There are five excellent sniper positions to support the assault on the high ground. Two I can't see from here - the " high ground" covers me, two more I can easily shoot through from the roof of the mansion, and on the last one I can spot the enemy by the bursts of his shots, but there is no trajectory for hitting, you need a deep detour. Also, I don't know if the enemy team has snipers or not. I guess that most likely there is since my chosen class shares second place with the heavy infantry in popularity in the game. But only a guess, I can not know a hundred percent. That's why I spend precious ten seconds monitoring the situation. In addition, experienced players should notice how the life-support indicators of the cover group have gone out and can put up a barrier. So my waiting is also conditioned on trying to detect the barrier.
From my current position, I had a good view of two popular enemy camper positions. If they were the ones favored by enemy snipers, I wouldn't have had to run anywhere - I would have shot them right from this point! But every cloud has a silver lining: the observation was not wasted - I managed to locate the point from which the assault was supported. The sniper was seated in the attic of a building across the street from the high ground, about two hundred meters from my position, and was blocked from direct fire by a massive wall five bricks thick. I could not see him, but I not only located him by the distinctive flashes of fire, but I also identified the model of the rifle he was using.
As I saw no sign of anyone coming toward me, I jumped onto the sidewalk, immediately sprang, and retreated into the dark alley. I could have run directly to my target, but in this game, fast is no good. So I preferred to make a small detour, so as not to be exposed to the open terrain.
After each shot a sniper must change position, it's almost an axiom, which has only one exception - when you need continuous fire to suppress an infantry assault. Almost everyone knows this, but for some reason nine out of ten players, having taken a comfortable for themselves position, do not bother to change it, as long as no one shoots at them. That was the kind of sniper who sat in the attic, hitting the shadows flickering in the window openings of the "high пкщгтв" almost on reload and felt completely safe. I ruined this personal idyll, his peculiar game of field shooting, this shooting at moving targets, by sneaking up from behind and stabbing the sniper in the neck with a vibro knife.
The counter spun once again and showed the number three.
The rest of the game became quite simple. Taking the place of the dead man, the first shot I fired took out the enemy heavy gunner, who had deployed a firing point right on the stairwell, cutting off our attackers. Before that, the heavy gunner could not be taken down because the fire was so dense, and the sniper I had killed was preventing us from going around the side of the heavy gunner.
Four.
The medic who was curing the heavy infantryman from accidental hits was the fifth. The guy should have changed position as soon as the heavy infantryman fell, but he apparently didn't realize where the bullet was coming from, so he braced himself against the wall exactly opposite me. The target was so easy that I felt like shooting him with the Puma instead of waiting for the reload of the railgun. It was exactly one hundred and fourteen meters away from the medic, and I'm sure I would have put at least two of the five rounds of the cylinder in a stationary target from that distance. But, overpowering myself, I habitually put the "rail" in my inventory and made a seven-second run, changing my spot lit up after the shot. Yes, none of the opponents did think to suppress this point, not that level in casual battles, but despite such an argument, still did not betray me. And only having shifted on the span, allowed me to make the shot, which became fatal for that medic.
Another run followed to change the sector of attack. But it was unnecessary - the game round was over before I could pull the trigger at least once more. Taking advantage of the fact that my breakthrough into the rear of the enemy provided a global tactical advantage, the rest of the team easily realized this advantage, literally in twenty seconds destroying the opponents.
Yes, it was easy. I know it's hard to call the match interesting. But, as always, looking at the victory screen displaying the team stats, I got a taste of victory. A victory with a very bitter aftertaste...
With my hands away from the mouse and keyboard, I lean back in my chair. Alas, despite the easy victory and the key contribution to it, this match did not show my real level. Yes, I looked more than good against the randomly matched players. But it was just resting on my part, the entertainment I allowed myself at the end of hours of practice.
After sitting for about ten minutes with my eyes closed, I tried to relax and calm myself down. I really didn't want to do what was required. Instead of sinking into a relaxing trance, I nervously tapped the index finger of my right hand on the armrest. I just need to open a program of game analysis, written specifically for training sessions, such as those that I pass, and look at the results for today. And I know exactly what I'm going to see in the dry lines of the log. The same as yesterday, and the day before - everything would be the same as a week or even a month ago. Although, no, I exaggerate: a month ago things were much worse, but still for the last two weeks there has been no progress. Having set me up in advance with these thoughts that I would not see anything good, I opened the game log analyzer. I turned it off before the last match so that it would not take into account the results of the game with random opponents, so now I looked only at the dry numbers showing the results of the training session.
Just as I thought, no change. And if there is no change, then there is no progress.
To practice a game skill, it is not enough to just play. Even if you play a lot, day in and day out, you won't join the elite. To be exact, until about three years ago, with the slightest talent and persistence it was enough to take a place in the cohort of the best. But ever since cyber disciplines became equal to regular sports, not only on Avalon, but in almost the entire world community, and the prize money at major tournaments began to be measured in eight figures, everything has changed.
Not even a year after the date of the "equalization of rights," there were no amateur teams left at a high level. If in the qualifying stages of the championships not above the canton one could still find amateurs, at the next stage such an encounter was very, very rare. The change in status from "some toys" to a sporting discipline, as well as the very big money in a short time, changed a lot for those who were into that sort of thing. For people like me.
In high school, since middle school, I'd been called nothing but a nerd or an otaku. I wasn't interested in the usual school activities-"outdoor games" and such things. I preferred to spend time at the computer, but I confess that I did not use it at all for studying, even though I lied to my father about the need to buy it for studying science. Many students love computer games, but parents usually limit their fun. There was no one to restrict me. My father was ten months a year on a trip, and my older sister was busy going to college and taking care of the little sister. She didn't have the time or energy to look after me, either. It even pleased her that I sat quietly in my room and didn't get on her nerves. And I was only glad of that. Honestly, what boy of twelve would refuse such freedom? I used my freedom to the fullest extent, causing genuine envy among my classmates.
In the second grade of high school, their envy became quite stifling. It even got to the point where I got beaten up. Now I understand that the boys were just jealous of me, but back then I thought they were beating me for being unsociable, and I went even deeper into games.
Before I went to high school, I played everything I could get my hands on - shooter, RPG, fighting game, arcade, or quest - whatever. This omnivorousness had a flip side: I didn't have a favorite game. I didn't have one at the time. But the summer before the first semester of school, the first version of Battle Arenas of Avalon was released. By that time online games had long been a thing of the past, with many fantasy game worlds vying for top popularity ratings, and online fighting games not far behind. And online shooters were represented exclusively by variants of online multiplayer, bolted on to popular single-player hits.
The release of BAA was like the explosion of a supernova in an empty sky. Not only did this game bring the genre of tactical team shooters to the net, becoming their ancestor, but the very idea of a short session, time-limited team fight was, as they say, a hit in the top ten. And if you add to this excellent graphics at the level of the best single-player projects, excellent network optimization of the game code, and elaborate physics model, coupled with a near-perfect game balance, then the world was born a true masterpiece. Neither have I remained indifferent to it. However, these words are an obvious understatement, it would be more correct to say: "wholeheartedly fell in love with this game".
All other games were abandoned by me, and after six months I sold out almost my entire game collection. I realize now that I was lucky, lucky in that I was a bit of a coward. If it wasn't for that trait of mine, it would have been a total disaster. That's how much I got sucked in by online battles. But the fear that if my grades deteriorated, my father would take away the computer was strong enough to periodically pluck me from the clutches of the Battle Arena and force me to study. Besides, in high school, many kids' parents already bought personal computers or laptops. So I stopped being a "black sheepЭ. Even on the contrary.
Being successful in BAA, and advancing to the higher gaming leagues, all these things made me popular in the school gaming community, which grew every year. In my second year, I managed to put together a school team, and in the first city tournament, we took third place, earning a thousand francs each, a huge amount of money for a school kid! This income and the high ranking attracted a lot of talented players to the school club that I organized on the basis of the team.
In the next city quarterly tournament, we won and made it to the canton-level qualifiers. Where we also performed very well for beginners, placing in the top ten. As it turned out, this success, or rather, the prize money we received was the reason for the team's demise. The money turned the students' heads, and many abandoned their studies, completely immersed in online battles, for which they were punished by their parents. Some had their internet blocked, some had their game-time restricted, some had their computer taken away from them. The matter reached the school principal and our club was shut down. Nevertheless, there were still many people who wanted to play and take part in tournaments, but the quality of these players was still noticeably inferior to the first squad.
For a year and a half we steadily became the city champions, but also failed at the next stage time after time. And when the BAA was included in the officially recognized cybersports disciplines, even at the city level we barely managed to stay in the championships, as the rivalry became simply exorbitant.
Because of my fear of my father's wrath, and thanks to the natural acumen blessed to me by Face of Aphrodite, I managed not only to finish high school fairly well, but also to score enough points to get into a medium-sized university, and with a scholarship, too. I was just contemplating which college to apply to when I received an e-mail, which at first I mistook for a prank. It contained an invitation to an interview at the Technological University of New Geneva!
I really had reason to take this letter as a prank - this university ranks among the best in the world! The passing score on the entrance exams there (even for paid tuition) is much higher than what I scored. Since I have always tried to stay realistic, I never even dreamed of studying at such a prestigious institution. Contrary to my skepticism, the invitation turned out to be genuine, and the underlying interest in my person was understandable.
The Technological University was known not only for its strong academic program, the amount of research being done there, and the number of successful graduates but also for its athletic teams. One could say that the board of trustees that governs this institution of higher education has a real "thing" about student athletic teams. When some computer games were officially recognized as a sport, the TU administration decided to organize a cyber sports team. It was formed quickly because even among the brilliant students there is a large percentage of fans of games. In the first year, the university team participated in twelve tournaments and always came in last place. This, apparently, greatly hurt someone's superior ego.
A quota of "cybersports scholarships" was allocated, and a "teacher," or rather coach, Shin Yang, the retired captain of the legendary team "Sword of Ares", the same team that took the first-ever official world cup of the Battle Arenas of Avalon, was hired. It was Sensei Yang who found me, screening promising high school graduates. Master Shin was extremely limited in his choices, for he could only search among graduates and only among those who passed at least eighty percent of the entrance grades required for regular admission. I think it was the meager choice that made the coach decide on my candidacy, among others. I am soberly aware that I am a very good sharpshooter at the BAA, perhaps not just "good," but excellent. But all the same, I was like a bull to Zeus before all the monsters I had encountered in tournaments.
So, all of a sudden, I found myself not in some provincial institute, which would have been logical based on my academic abilities, but in the most prestigious educational institution in the country. Of course, I had to move to the capital, which for me, a natural homesteader, was quite a shock, but it was worth it. Getting ready to study, I pretty much fantasized about "how it would be? And the reality exceeded all expectations. A swanky dormitory, a level no lower than a three-star hotel, and easy "sports training" in major subjects. But the main thing was a professional coach, my favorite activity to which I could devote hours, and a few dozen like-minded people! It was like being in Aphrodite's Chambers! The first month of training, despite the hardest learning process and hours of training at first, seems to me now the happiest time in my life.
At the end of the month, Sensei held a general team meeting, where he said that he had evaluated all of us, our strengths and weaknesses. And the first thing that absolutely all players need to improve is their physical condition. The coach gave examples of improved coordination and reaction as a consequence of physical fitness, and also explained what a significant role normal physical stamina plays during multi-day big tournaments.
As we later learned, in addition to his work as a coach, Shin Yang was also a correspondence student at a medical school. His topic was physiotherapy, so at that meeting, he didn't just talk but also showed graphs and case studies. Most of all, I was amazed by the pictures of the cyber teams that took first place in various disciplines. Of course, I knew many of them, I watched their broadcasts, and read articles and guides written by them, but somehow I didn't care about their appearance. I was therefore shocked that these champions didn't look like me at all - they were more likely to be mistaken for gymnastics or track and field team than a computer player. All of them were trim, no one was slouching, no one was overweight, and their muscles were in good shape.
Since the university administration had given Yang carte blanche to design the training process, despite all of our dissatisfaction, the next morning we all had to drag ourselves to the athletic center. We were then expected to be physically tested, by the results of which each was selected a personal training set of exercises and a schedule of classes. That test was what brought me here... to this little room, mistakenly referred to as a Japanese-style apartment.
My first test that day was pulling up on the bar. I couldn't even do two pull-ups. In addition, during the second attempt, I was so twitchy on the bar that my hands slipped and I collapsed on the floor. What can happen to a young person who does not suffer from chronic diseases and fragile bones, who fell while pulling up on a sports mat? It seems like nothing, not even bruises, but I managed to... I broke the wrist of my right hand so the X-ray showed twelve fractures.
It's been four months since then, two and a half of which I've been in a cast and another one and a half trying to recover, to regain my previous sensitivity, reaction, and positioning accuracy. But as the training program reports show, it seems that I have reached my ceiling. And that ceiling is about ten percent worse than my results before the injury.
Thanks to Sensei's intercession, I was not kicked out of the university after I became virtually useless to the team. Officially, I am on sabbatical for health reasons. I have seven months left to fully regain my former conditioning and even exceed it, as the team will be progressing in a year of training and I need to match it to be restored to the team. Or I will have to pull all of my academic subjects up to at least the minimum level of compliance with the standards of the University of Technology. Otherwise, if I can't do either, I'll be expelled. If look globally, there is nothing terrible in this expulsion for my life or future career. The worst thing is the loss of one year, which is easily compensated by the fact that I can transfer from UT to a much more prestigious university than I would have been able to do in the general admission test.
But that's if you look at the situation from a detached point of view. The truth is, I want to go back. I swear before the holy three-faced statue AphArDes, there's nothing I'd like more than to be back on the university team! Except that all my efforts so far have not yielded any results. I hope that I can turn the situation to my advantage.
To calm my nerves, which had gone wild after watching the training program logs, I took two hollow copper balls from the leather pouch on my belt and began to roll them on my right palm. This process is not only soothing but also good for the hand and is recommended by the physical therapist.
As I watched the balls roll down my palm, I tried to remove myself from any thoughts, to feel completely relaxed. But, no matter how hard I tried, time after time, after making a circle, my thoughts returned to the most urgent problem. And this problem was extremely trivial and down-to-earth: I needed money. Being on sabbatical leave, I lost not only a place in the dormitory, but also a small, but still a sports scholarship and free meals in the university cafeteria. Of course, my father supported me, but his help was not enough to cover rent, food, and doctors' fees all at once.
I could have asked for more, but my family is not that rich. Besides, most of the money goes to my sisters; they need it more. Any increase in spending on me would automatically mean that they would have to cut back on some things. There is the option of going back to my hometown and working on my health and trying to catch up on my studies, but I leave that choice to the last resort. Because it would be a shame for me to go back to my hometown and sit on the neck of my eldest again, as I have done for most of my life before. So ashamed that I would only return to my ancestral home after exhausting all other options.
Since in the first month of my studies and until the cast was removed, I lived in a dormitory and ate from my scholarship, I managed to save some money. And when I was taken off my allowance, after a fair bit of running around the capital, I still found a place to live that suited me.
The neighborhood, of course, is far from prosperous, or rather, the notorious sector of the old river port. Ten years ago, the old port closed, moving the main terminals downstream (out of the city line), and almost the entire population of the neighborhood lost their jobs. The latter had an immediate impact on the crime situation.
In addition, the main residential buildings in the neighborhood were "Japanese low-rise buildings," built immediately after the Great War by Japanese prisoners. They were four-story buildings that looked more like square cake boxes than apartment buildings. What made these buildings special was not only their ugly appearance but also the fact that in such a small volume of builders managed to cram a lot of separate apartments. And they were not really apartments; they certainly were not worthy of the word "apartment". They are all the same type and similar to the one I rent. The total area of nine square meters, on which I managed to place a section of the bathroom, combined with a shower, a small kitchenette with a table bolted to the floor, a gas stove with two burners, and a mini-fridge hidden in the corner. A narrow bed and a small closet by the entrance - that was all, there was nothing else in this apartment that did not fit. It cost me a lot of trouble to cram a computer table and an ergonomic chair in here.
But for all its disadvantages, it was still a separate apartment, not a room to share with someone else. In addition, the rent price was more than reasonable. And I could eat instant noodles, which would cost me gastritis someday, but that was "someday". I'm not picky about food. In principle, I can survive another month on the old supplies and what my father sends every two weeks. During that time, if I wanted to stay in the capital, I needed to find a job. The difficulty was that not every job suited me, as I was not allowed to put much strain on my right hand. So far the only job I had found was delivering mail in the morning. It didn't pay much, but it was only for two or three hours in the morning, and then I was free. That earnings would cover two-thirds of my rent, which meant that with my father's money I was getting close to zero.
In addition, I could always work as a part-time computer technician. It was an unstable job, though - my online ad was not answered more than once a week, but it should have been enough to cover my food problem. The only thing left was to find the money for a doctor, but my sensei was studying to be a physiotherapist, I could try to persuade him to study with me. Explain the situation to him, maybe he could find time for me in his busy schedule?
There was only one drawback to such a plan. Working at the post office meant a lot of movement around the block. Despite the morning hours, there were thugs on every corner all day and night. In high school, I learned the necessary skill of constantly turning my head, which allowed me to spot bullies in time and hide from them. But I'm afraid in a job like that, there's a good chance I'll make a mistake and get into trouble someday. And any fight, considering the fact that I look exactly the way people used to imagine computer gamers to look, and in addition, I can't even pull up more than once, well, any confrontation with thugs will lead to the obvious finale. At best they will simply beat me up, at worst they will rob me and hurt my hand again. The thought of such an outcome sent me into a cold sweat.
But as scared as I was, the possibility of returning home, and even being expelled, frightened me much more.
After turning off the computer, I climbed over the couch to the door, put my feet into my sneakers, threw on my jacket, and turned the keys in the front door. Even though I didn't feel like it, I had to look for a job, I had to! With this thought, I opened the door sharply.
I took a step forward and almost collided with the blue silhouette, whose right arm was raised in a swing. My heart sank in the few moments it took my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting of the corridor. My first thought was, 'I'm on to a burglar'! And I also very helpfully opened the door for him myself.
But, thanks to the Face of Aphrodite, it wasn't what I thought it would be from the surprise and the bad light. There was no thief or bandit at my door, but the local housekeeper. He was a young man, whose exact age was obscured by thick bangs that covered nearly half his face, and a shapeless dark blue work shirt that was at least four sizes larger than it should have been. This tall guy, nearly half a head taller than me, was between twenty-five and thirty, it was hard to be more precise. His old and seen better days overalls, with lots of scuffs and patches, were cleaned out perfectly. At any time of day, this man always looked the same. In a couple of months I'd been here I'd seen him ten times, sometimes in the morning, sometimes in the afternoon, twice in the late afternoon, and he always looked exactly the same.
"Scared you?" His voice, dim as the hallway lights, and as dry as the stale air.
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