The blue light of a forced teleport faded, but it did not leave us on a battlefield. Instead, Anya and I materialized in a huge, cavernous room that smelled of oil and gunpowder. We were standing in a massive, industrial armory. Rows upon rows of weapon racks stretched into the distance, filled with rifles, shotguns, and pistols. Pallets stacked high with body armor and helmets created a maze of gear. All the other players in our next match were already here, frantically grabbing equipment.
A system-wide announcement echoed through the vast space, the voice cold and impersonal.
[MATCH TYPE: ARMORY: KING OF THE HILL]
[OBJECTIVE: PROCEED TO THE ARENA AND CONTROL THE DESIGNATED HILL. LAST PLAYER STANDING WINS.]
[RULES: FREE-FOR-ALL. ALL CUSTOM LOADOUTS DISABLED. PLAYERS WILL HAVE 90 SECONDS TO EQUIP THEMSELVES FROM THE ARMORY. GOOD LUCK.]
My heart sank. A solos match. Free-for-all. Every player for themselves. And our custom loadouts were disabled. I checked my inventory. My Ouroboros chest piece was gone. My Phantom rifle was gone. My shotgun was gone. All I had was the basic P-19 pistol that everyone started with. Anya was in the same position. Her new legendary chainsword had vanished.
This was a disaster. We were still wounded from our fight in the Undercroft, our health bars not yet fully recovered. The system had designed this match to be a "fresh start," putting everyone on a level playing field. But for us, it was a major disadvantage. We had lost all the powerful gear we had fought so hard to earn.
A massive countdown timer appeared on a screen on the far wall. [90 SECONDS].
The armory erupted into chaos.
It was a frantic scramble. Players shoved and pushed each other, fighting (non-lethally, for now) over the best gear. It was a chaotic free-for-all before the match even began. A big, brutish player knocked a smaller one out of the way to grab a heavy machine gun. Two others had a tug-of-war over a piece of high-tier body armor.
Anya's voice cut through the noise. "Leo, stay with me! Don't get lost in the mob!" She was a professional. She had seen matches like this before. "Forget the fancy stuff! We need basics! Armor, rifle, ammo! Go!"
She immediately took charge. She was faster and more aggressive than I was. She shoved another player aside, creating a path for me. "Go for that rack!" she yelled, pointing towards a less crowded section where a row of standard-issue assault rifles were hanging. "I'll grab us some armor!"
I ran, my body still aching from the last fight. I managed to grab one of the assault rifles, a solid but unremarkable weapon. I found a few magazines of ammunition and stuffed them into my pouches. It felt good to have a real primary weapon again, even if it was not my powerful shotgun.
I saw a medical station nearby. On it was a single, precious Med-Syringe. I snatched it up and immediately injected it into my leg. The familiar, warm sensation spread through my body as my health returned to its maximum. [HP: 100/100]. At least now I was not starting the match wounded.
Anya reappeared at my side, shoving a basic set of body armor into my chest. "Put this on," she commanded. She was wearing a similar set herself. It was not as strong as my legendary chest piece, but it was much better than nothing.
The timer was ticking down. [30 SECONDS].
We had our gear. We were ready for the fight. But I was not thinking about the fight. I was thinking about the Oracle's mission.
"Anya," I said, my voice low so no one else could hear. "The objective. The Data Spike."
"I know," she replied, her eyes scanning the chaotic armory. "King of the Hill means everyone will rush to one central point. A bloodbath. It's the perfect cover for us."
My mind started working, forming a plan. "We don't go for the hill," I said. "Not at first. We let them fight it out. We find the server room. The Oracle said every map has one. That's our objective. That's the real hill for us."
Anya nodded in agreement. "It's a race against time. We have to find the room, plug it in, and defend it for sixty seconds, all while a massive free-for-all is happening around us. It's crazy."
"It's the only way," I said. My objective was clear. The official match was just a distraction.
The timer was almost at zero. [10 SECONDS].
Players were making their final grabs for gear. Most were loading up on grenades and heavy weapons, preparing for the big fight at the center of the map. In the chaos, I spotted something everyone else had overlooked.
On a small technician's cart in the corner, there was a small, flat datapad. It was not a weapon. It was not armor. It was a piece of utility gear. The system identified it as a [System Diagnostic Tool]. I vaguely remembered it from the game's patch notes. Its official function was to send out a small electronic pulse that could temporarily reveal enemy locations on the minimap in a small radius. A useful, but not essential, tool.
But I realized its true value. A diagnostic tool. A tool for reading a facility's systems. It could probably do more than just find players. It could find a server room.
In the final seconds, I sprinted for the cart. I grabbed the datapad just as the final alarm blared. [0 SECONDS].
The teleportation light consumed us.
The cold hit me first. The world materialized around me, and I was standing on a metal platform covered in snow. A fierce wind whipped around me, carrying flakes of ice that stung my face. We were on a high mountain peak, surrounded by a raging blizzard. In the distance, I could see a massive, high-tech facility. A weather control station. The match map was [AETHELBURG PEAK].
The "hill," our official objective, was the main control tower in the center of the facility. I could already see other players, small figures in the snowstorm, rushing towards it. The sound of gunfire, sharp and clear in the cold air, erupted almost immediately. The match had begun.
I ignored the fight. I pulled out the diagnostic tool I had grabbed. The small datapad flickered to life in my hands. I tried to use it, focusing my intent on finding the server room.
The screen changed. It was not showing enemy positions. It was showing a blueprint of the entire facility's network infrastructure. It worked. And on the blueprint, a single room was highlighted, deep in the sublevels of the station. The server room. The tool even showed a direct access path through a series of maintenance tunnels.
But as I looked at the map, my heart sank. A bright red alert icon was pulsing over the server room's location. A warning message appeared below it, the text stark and ominous against the blue schematic.
[SYSTEM ALERT: ANOMALOUS CODE DETECTED IN PLAYER INVENTORY.]
[QUARANTINE PROTOCOL ACTIVE AT SERVER LOCATION.]
The system knew I was here. It knew I had the Data Spike. It was not just waiting for me to make a move.
It had already set a trap.