"Conner, can you hear me? I repeat, can you hear me." Reever spoke through his communicator as he ran, his voice steady despite the chaos behind him.
"I can hear you clearly. What's the emergency?" Conner asked from the other side.
"I am not in a good position right now. The queen is on my side. With seven kings, countless bishops and rooks, and infinite soldier spider ants. I am coming over to your side," he reported quickly, not slowing down.
"Brav, what's wrong with you? How could you do that? You are alone, yet you approached the king. Well, never mind. I assume that you are in the same tunnel you went through. I am coming with backup, so try as much as possible to escape your death. It would be sad if you die now," Conner responded before the communicator beeped off.
Reever kept running.
He was not waiting for death. Unlike other players, he knew that death to him meant a step closer to erasure. It was not just losing a match. It was losing a part of himself. He didn't want to die, at least not for now. Not before he managed to enjoy life without having to do unnecessary missions again and again.
His steps echoed through the tunnel as he moved forward. The sound of his feet hitting the ground was the only thing he could hear. His grip tightened around the trident in his hand as he kept going.
Then he stopped for a while.
Something felt strange.
Looking behind, nothing was chasing him. No movement. No sound. He couldn't sense any tremors. The size of the army that had been after him was enough to shake the ground itself. Yet the place was silent.
Too silent.
He didn't stop long enough to figure out what was wrong. If he stopped, there would be no difference between him and the characters in cliché horror movies who literally walk into their own deaths. No, he wasn't that predictable. Sure, a part of him told him to go back and look out for the spider ants.
'Afraid.'
A thought came to him.
Was he really scared?
No. He wasn't. What he was doing was a tactical escape. He wasn't a dummy who would wait for death to arrive. The difference between him and that army couldn't even be explained with words. Only a brave, stupid character would go and look for his ending.
'Excuses for being afraid.'
The thought came again.
He shook his head slightly, pushing it away.
If he died, well, that would be it. He would have to redo the match. But that didn't mean he should throw himself at danger for no reason.
Far ahead, he noticed the end of the tunnel. Its entrance.
With the last bit of strength, he pushed himself forward and finally arrived. The open space ahead felt different from the tight walls of the tunnel. He slowed down and then stopped.
For a while, he stood there in silence before looking at the system panel in front of him.
The mission didn't have a timer.
But he did.
Only four hours remained before his human identity washed away.
"Man. I need to look for a way to have a human identity completely. It's hard doing some things," he thought as he sat on a broken boulder near the entrance.
He wasn't tired, of course. With his bot identity, being tired, hungry, or even feeling pain was something foreign to him. His body didn't function like a normal human body anymore. It obeyed commands. It performed actions. It continued moving.
But it didn't feel.
"Maybe I could get a human body but with bot characteristics. No pain, no hunger, and definitely unlimited stamina," he thought quietly.
The idea stayed in his mind for a moment.
It sounded perfect.
A body that didn't break. A body that didn't suffer. A body that could keep moving without limits.
He spun his trident slowly in his hand, watching the way it moved. The weapon felt balanced. Familiar. Reliable.
Then he heard footsteps behind him.
"Finally. Conner's here."
He stood up and turned around, expecting to see his teammate.
But it wasn't Conner.
It was another player.
And he wasn't alone.
A crowd followed him. A large one. Armed and organized. The leader was a young lad dressed in army attire, a shotgun secured well on his waist. He held a cigar between his fingers, smoking slowly as he looked around like he owned the place. He was being carried by his team, resting comfortably on a raised platform made by their hands.
They slowed down as soon as they saw Reever.
The young man jumped down from the platform and landed on the ground. His boots made a dull sound as he stepped closer.
"Hey, kid. Why don't you join us? I am Prespeto, and this is the crowd I am controlling. As you can see, it's a huge team and we will definitely win," Prespeto said, his voice calm and confident.
"I'm bot 067, and I am waiting for my team too," Reever responded.
"Bot what… What a strange name. But where is your army? I hope that you are not pulling my leg," Prespeto said. But even as he spoke, his eyes were glued to the trident Reever was holding.
There was clear interest in his gaze.
Greed.
Reever noticed it immediately.
Even without words, he could sense what the man was thinking. The way his eyes stayed on the weapon. The way his posture shifted slightly as if measuring the distance between them.
He stood up from the boulder, gripping the trident properly now.
He was ready to take care of this bastard.
But before anything could happen, a beep from his communicator sounded.
Conner was just around the corner.
Relief passed through him for a second, but he didn't show it.
"I suggest that you leave now before you die," Reever warned as he stood his ground.
Prespeto didn't respond immediately.
Instead, the man's army slowly spread out and surrounded him. One by one, they raised their weapons and pointed them in his direction. The circle tightened, leaving little space for movement.
Reever stayed still.
Camouflage.
He activated his skill.
In an instant, his figure disappeared from the army's field of vision.