After finishing his practice matches against the four special bots, Reever finally understood what exhaustion truly meant , not the physical kind, but the kind that gnawed at the mind, the kind that came from simply existing. He was ready for the next phase now: facing real players. Flesh-and-blood humans.
He knew exactly what that meant.
Players mocked bots. To them, bots were predictable, disposable, soulless. They were cannon fodder — filler for the battlefield when human queues ran short. Reever had watched enough recorded matches to understand the truth: no one respected bots. No one cared for them.
He stood silently in his lobby. The glasslike floor stretched beneath his metallic feet, reflecting his lean frame — dull silver armor, narrow shoulders, and eyes that glowed a faint green. Around him, the endless dome shimmered with flowing digital light, pulsing with quiet system activity.
He checked his loadout. Weapon modules gleamed at his side — efficient, deadly, silent. Then he opened his auxiliary panel and frowned. Still locked. The system hadn't granted him full access yet. Typical. Bots never got complete authority until they "proved" their worth.
He straightened and exhaled — not because he needed air, but because it helped him feel alive.
Then the system's tone shifted.
A low hum rose into a sharp chord as a column of white light descended from above, bathing him in brilliance. His systems synchronized automatically, streams of data surging through his neural grid.
[Teleporting bot to first battlefield.]
Map: Crimson Dock
Mission: Survive the first clash of the rookies and live to tell the tale.
Reward: EXP increase + special perk.
Objective: Survive.
The light thickened, wrapping tightly around him. His sensors flared as his coordinates began to rewrite themselves into code.
He braced himself for the drop. Teleportation always felt strange — like being stretched through a keyhole.
But this time, something went wrong.
[Warning! Outside interference detected.
Teleportation of all players breached.
Corrective measures initiated...
Map location changed to ##@#!
Time of play ##@!#
Warning! Corrective measures destroyed!
Bot's safety threatened.
Supreme-level override engaged.]
His vision shattered. The light around him stuttered, froze, then burst apart in violent color. His sensors screamed. The system's steady hum dissolved into static and pain.
He was no longer moving cleanly. He was drifting.
Teleportation should have been instant — a blink and done — but this one felt endless. His awareness stretched thin across infinite fragments of code, green streams of energy tearing past him like veins of lightning.
He could feel his own data unraveling. His thoughts flickered, scattering like sparks. His body felt as if it was collapsing inward, falling through itself.
[Detecting ##$@*!
Pathway stabilized for player.
Safety measures engaged.
New map detected...
Warning! Outside interference increasing!
Map discard imminent.
Backup protocol initiated.]
Even through the chaos, Reever's logic held firm. Something — or someone — was fighting the system, and the system was losing.
His auxiliary module flared suddenly in his hand, flooding him with green light. The hum deepened, steady and rhythmic, almost alive.
That light pushed back the distortion, forcing stability into the storm.
[Final map detected.
Map: Hürtgen Forest.
Warning to player: System unusable for extended period.
Player moved to origin.
Player has 10 lives before permanent death.
Player has no weapons, armor, perks, or skills.
Objective: Survive until system reactivation.
Time until system online: 2 months.
Ranks: None.
Survival dependent on individual ability.
Mission begins.]
Those were the last words he saw before the world inverted.
He fell.
Cold air roared against his body as he plummeted. He hit the ground hard, the impact ringing through metal and bone alike. Then — silence.
The fog was thick enough to choke vision. Massive pine trees loomed around him like ancient sentinels, their branches heavy with dew. The ground beneath him was soft and uneven, layered with mud, dead leaves, and twisted roots.
The world smelled real. Damp earth. Cold air. The faint rot of decay.
He looked down at his hands — dull metal fingers streaked with mud. His weapon slots were empty. No HUD, no ammo counter, no system overlay. Nothing.
Only the sound of distant thunder — or was it gunfire? It was hard to tell.
He tried calling the system, but his interface flickered faintly before dying out.
"...System?" he muttered.
Static answered.
He took a cautious step forward. The fog shifted, curling around his legs like smoke. Somewhere deep within the haze, metal scraped against metal — the unmistakable sound of movement.
And then the realization hit him.
The Hürtgen Forest wasn't just another map.
He clenched his fists, servos tightening with a low whir.
A static-filled whisper escaped his voice module."...Oh no. I hope this isn't where I think it is."