The pizza was greasy, the soda was flat, and Lena was already halfway through her third slice when Elias finally spoke up. "We need a sniper," he said, dabbing a napkin at the corner of his mouth. "And not just any sniper. Someone with precision. Someone who can hold a position, even when things get messy."
Lena paused, cheese dripping down her chin. "Oh, I know just the guy! Jesse Wright. He's a streamer too—mostly plays sniper. Used to be a baseball player, I think? Got hurt, so he switched to Nova Arena. His aim's insane… when he's not having a panic attack."
Olivia raised an eyebrow. "A nervous sniper? That's like a fish that's afraid of water. We need someone steady, someone who won't freeze up when the enemy's closing in."
"He's good, I swear!" Lena insisted, wiping her chin with her sleeve. "I watched him hit a headshot from across the map once. Blindfolded. Well, okay, not blindfolded—but he had his eyes closed for, like, two seconds. Close enough. C'mon, he's at the other end of the mall. Playing in the free practice area."
Marcus pushed his glasses up, glancing nervously at his phone. "I have a lab report due tomorrow. But… if we're quick, I guess I can come as long as we don't stay too late. And no one makes me fix any more controllers. Or pizza ovens. Or—"
"Relax, Marcus," Elias said, standing up. "We'll find Jesse, talk to him, and be back to practice before you know it. And Lena? No more yelling at random people. Or stealing Marcus's fries. Or—"
"Fine, fine," Lena groaned, shoving the last bite of pizza into her mouth. "Let's go. The sooner we find our sniper, the sooner we can beat Steel Dawn. And the sooner I get my neon pink sniper rifle."
The free practice area was even more chaotic than the tournament space—kids running around, keyboards clacking, and one very loud guy yelling about "hacking" because he'd been killed for the fifth time in a row. At the far corner, a guy with short black hair, wearing a faded baseball jersey, was hunched over his PC, his hands shaking slightly as he aimed his sniper rifle.
"That's Jesse!" Lena whispered, pointing. "See? Look at him. Total focus. Except for the shaking. And the way he's muttering to himself. And—"
Before she could finish, Jesse let out a yelp, slamming his fist on the desk. "No! No! Not again!" His screen showed a missed shot—he'd been aiming at an enemy bot, but his hand had twitched, and the bullet had hit a wall instead. He sank back in his chair, running a hand through his hair, looking like he was about to cry.
Olivia crossed her arms. "Yeah. Real steady. Perfect for our team."
"He's just nervous!" Lena said, marching over to Jesse. "Hey! Jesse! Over here!"
Jesse jumped, nearly falling out of his chair. He spun around, his eyes wide. "Huh? Who? Me? I didn't do it! I swear! I wasn't hacking! I just—"
"Calm down, we're not here to accuse you of hacking," Elias said, stepping forward. "I'm Elias. This is Lena, Marcus, and Olivia. We're putting together a team for the amateur tournament. We heard you're a good sniper."
Jesse's eyes widened even more when he saw Elias. "The Ghost? Like, the actual Ghost? The one who won the first NWC? I'm a huge fan! I used to watch your old matches before bed. Your sniper plays are why I started using a sniper rifle. Well, that and the fact that I can't run fast enough to be an assault hand. Or steady enough to be a defender. Or—"
"He's a talker," Olivia muttered to Marcus, who nodded, looking equally overwhelmed.
"We need a sniper," Lena said, cutting Jesse off. "And you're perfect. 'Cause you're good. And we're good. And together, we're gonna be amazing. Join our team. Please? We'll even let you pick the practice snacks. As long as they're not smelly. Marcus's rule."
Jesse hesitated, glancing at his screen. "I don't know. I'm not very good under pressure. Last time I played in a team, I froze up in the final round. Cost us the game. My teammates called me 'Chicken Little' for a month. I don't wanna let anyone down again."
Elias leaned against the desk, his voice calm. "I get it. I've messed up too. Been there. Felt like the whole world was watching, waiting for me to fail. But here's the thing—you don't have to be perfect. You just have to be willing to try. And we'll have your back. Marcus will keep you healed, Olivia will hold the line, Lena will distract the enemy… and I'll make sure you have the perfect shot."
Jesse looked at each of them—Lena grinning like a maniac, Marcus giving a nervous thumbs-up, Olivia nodding slowly, and Elias, calm and steady, like he actually believed in him. He took a deep breath, sitting up straight.
"Okay," he said. "I'll join. But if I freeze up? If I miss every shot? Don't say I didn't warn you. And uh… can we practice somewhere quiet? No loud kids. No yelling. Maybe with some calming music? I find classical music helps. Or jazz. Or—"
"No jazz," Lena said, grabbing his arm. "C'mon! We've got a team now. The Thunderclap! Let's go practice. First stop: Tom's Café. It's smelly, it's loud, and Old Tom yells at us every five minutes. Perfect practice for pressure!"
Jesse paled, but he didn't argue. He grabbed his backpack, following the group out of the mall—Lena leading the way, singing off-key, Olivia muttering about "bad decisions," Marcus checking his phone every two seconds, and Elias bringing up the rear, a faint smile on his face.
Tom's Café was even more cramped than usual, with five people huddled together around the corner tables. Old Tom had cleared a space for them, setting up four extra monitors (stolen from the back room, he'd whispered) and a rickety table for their snacks.
"First practice," Elias said, opening his game client. "Map: Urban Ruins. Mode: 5v5 Bot Match. We'll be Attackers. Jesse, you take the high ground—rooftop, near the west corridor. Marcus, stick with Jesse, keep him healed, and drop traps if enemies get close. Olivia, hold the middle, set up your defenses. Lena, you're our Breacher—charge in, distract the bots, clear a path for us. Got it?"
Everyone nodded—except Lena, who was already spamming the chat with "LET'S GO THUNDERCLAP!" and Jesse, who was muttering to himself, "Calm down, Jesse. Breathe. Left hand on the keyboard, right hand on the mouse. Don't shake. Don't shake. Don't—"
The game started, and chaos immediately ensued.
Lena charged forward, firing blindly, yelling at the top of her lungs. "COME GET SOME, BOTS! I'M THE FLASH! FEAR ME!" She ran straight into a group of three bots, getting gunned down within two seconds.
"Lena! Wait for backup!" Olivia yelled, setting up her defense turret. But it was too late—two bots had snuck around the side, destroying her turret before she could react. "Son of a—Marcus! Where's the health pack?"
Marcus was panicking, his fingers flying over the keyboard. "I—I'm trying! Jesse, move left! There's a bot behind you! Jesse? JESSE!"
Jesse had frozen up. He was staring at his screen, his hand hovering over the mouse, as a bot crept up behind him. "I can't! I can't move! It's right there! It's gonna kill me! Oh no! Oh no!"
Elias sighed, switching to his sniper rifle. He took aim, firing a headshot at the bot behind Jesse. "Jesse, breathe. You're okay. Take your time. Aim. Fire."
Jesse nodded, taking a deep breath. He aimed at a bot below, his hand still shaking—but this time, he pulled the trigger. Headshot. "I did it! I did it! Did you see that? I hit a headshot!"
"Great job, Jesse!" Marcus said, dropping a health pack next to him. "Now—look out! Another bot!"
Unfortunately, Jesse got too excited. He stood up, pumping his fist in the air, and accidentally knocked over his soda—spilling it all over his keyboard. "NO! MY KEYBOARD! IT'S STICKY! I CAN'T AIM! I CAN'T—"
Lena, who'd respawned, ran past him, yelling. "QUIT PANICKING, JESSE! AND STOP SPILLING SODA! WE'RE TRYING TO WIN HERE!" She charged into a bot, getting killed again.
Olivia groaned, facepalming. "We're never gonna win the tournament. We're the worst team ever. The worst. Even worse than my old team. And they once forgot how to reload their guns."
Elias smiled, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah. We're bad. Real bad. But that's okay. First practices are always messy. Lena, stop charging in alone. Olivia, don't yell at Marcus—he's trying his best. Marcus, stop apologizing for everything. And Jesse… stop spilling soda. And maybe don't stand up while playing. Just a suggestion."
Everyone laughed—nervous, tired, but genuine. Jesse wiped his keyboard with a napkin, grinning. "Sorry. I'll try. No more soda. No more standing up. No more panicking. Maybe."
"Good," Elias said, restarting the game. "Let's try again. Together. And this time? No more chaos. Well… less chaos. Maybe."
Lena grinned, cracking her knuckles. "Less chaos? Boring. But fine. For the team. And for my neon pink sniper rifle."
The second match was better—sort of. Lena still charged in too fast, but she managed to take down one bot. Olivia held her position, not yelling at anyone (much). Marcus kept everyone healed, only panicking twice. Jesse missed three shots, but he didn't freeze up, and he didn't spill any more soda.
And when the game ended, they won by one kill. Lena screamed, jumping up and down, nearly knocking over Marcus's laptop. Jesse cheered, high-fiving Elias. Olivia smiled, just a little. Marcus sighed, but he was smiling too.
"See?" Lena said, grinning. "I told you we'd be good. The Thunderclap! We're gonna be legends. And we're gonna beat Steel Dawn. And I'm gonna get my neon pink sniper rifle. Deal?"
Elias shook his head, but he was laughing. "Deal. Now. Let's clean up this soda mess. Old Tom's gonna kill us if he sees it."