Page 82 of Don't Hate the Player
Ivan’s played alongside my Pharaoh for so long he’s forgotten what it feels like to play against me. Remember those insanely difficult ranged kills Byunki asked me to master, Ivan? I’m about to nail one right . . . now.
He doesn’t see it coming, but it comes nonetheless. Right in the back of Jubilee’s head. VANE drops out immediately, and my Special Attack bar sinks down to a quarter of its full power. Worth it. Fury’s down two.
A lot of times inGLOmatches, death comes in pairs. It’s a side effect of each game inevitably splitting off into a series of mini-battles that winnow players out until a final few are left standing for the checkmate. I leap down from the roof to join the rest of my team in kicking the crap out of Muddy but can’t get there in time to stop him from launching his Special at Bob.No!I think.Bob’s weak to Nero. That’s a checkmate.
Ki slides Doctor Jack over faster than I can even perceive her (that’s ice powers for you) and sucks up the hit instead.
Like I said. Pairs.
I hear the beginning of Ki’s howl before her audio abruptly cuts out. Can’t comfort her now. It’s just me, Bob, and Jake against Muddy, Byunki, and Erik.
“Bastard,” Bob snarls. “Jake, heal Em. He’s mine.”
I feel like I haven’t seen Jake in this fight for a hundred years. Muddy’s fled across the plaza to regroup with Bob in hot pursuit, leaving Pharaoh and Pythia hanging out alone just like old times. Jake showers Pharaoh with a healing spell that brings me up to 50 percent. Back in the real world, which seems further away the longer I spend in this match, I feel my body shiver with relief.
“You good?” Jake asks.
“I’m good,” I reply.
“Not my daughter, you bitch!” screeches Bob.
Wherever he chased Muddy, Bob must have cornered him good. The screen flashes red with another Fury drop. I could have shot Muddy earlier, but I like the idea that he dropped off-screen to my perspective. Die like the NPC you are. That’s how little you matter to me.
“Em, eyes,” Jake suggests. I hop up to another rooftop and scan the surrounding streets for a sign of Fury.
“Nada,” I say.
“They’re coming,” Bob says, sprinting his Carrigan back into the plaza. He took some serious damage in that fight, and Jake needs time to replenish his healing spells before he can help him. “Hold our ground. We’re in the endgame now.”
Soon after Bob comes in, I spot Byunki and Erik’s Jenkins walking slowly in from the east perimeter. What they lack in speed, they make up in strategy. Erik is laboriously maintaining a force field around Byunki that shields both of them from our attacks. I land a few normal bolts on the field to jack up a few Special Attack points before Bob calls me down to join Unity’s last stand.
In most cases, three players against two would be an obvious win, but I’m the only one with an advantage against Byunki and I’m dangerously weak to Erik’s character. Using Pharaoh at this point would be the same as killing him, making me completely useless.
Byunki and Erik lumber toward the three of us, maintaining their shield like a two-man Spartan phalanx. I know what we look like to them: a weakened tank, a healer too drained to heal, and a nerfed DPS piloted by the stupid girl they thought they buried two weeks ago.
“He’s coming for one of us,” Jake says quietly. Byunki’s next move will depend on what he wants more—to checkmate Bob quickly or punish me for stepping out of line. I know Byunki. He’s going to go for Bob. Fury’s about winning, and that’s his winning move.
“It’ll be me,” Bob says grimly. At least we’ll lose on the same page. “Em, fire at that shield, see if you can crack it.”
I oblige, slamming Erik’s defense with normal bolts that do nothing but incrementally increase a Special I won’t be able to use without Jenkins taking me out anyway. Wait. That gives me an idea.
“Jake!” I say quickly while firing. “Fire at the shield. Get your special up.”
“May as well,” agrees Bob. He’s shooting too; now we’re three idiots chucking bullets, bolts, and magic at an unstoppable moving object. This is good. We need to keep firing.
“We need to get Byunki out of that shield,” I say.
“He won’t leave until he can attack me,” replies Bob. “He knows he’s got us cornered.”
“I almost dropped earlier because I was so mad I wanted to kill him,” I reply. My Special Attack meter is so close. I peek up at the top of the screen where Unity’s status sits and see that Jake’s is almost done too. “We have to make him do the same thing. Jake?”
I see Jake sit up straighter in his chair. “Yeah?”
“Remember Crystal Cathedral?” Back when we talked about the ice cream incident, Jake told me to use my fire to goad that pesky player into attacking me. That player turned out to be Muddy, who is now the only person who can warn Byunki of my plan. Thanks to Bob, he won’t be able to warn anyone, even if he screamed.
“Yes. Why—Oh!” Jake’s catching on. “But he already sees you.”
“Uh, report to your captain, please?” Bob is too cool to panic. Audible stress is a different story.
