The moment Reever reached the anti missile container and began opening it, something felt wrong.
A hand shot out from inside and tried to slam the door shut.
Reever reacted instantly, pulling back just enough to avoid getting caught. His eyes flicked to the timer.
One minute and thirty seconds remained.
That was nowhere near enough time to search for another container, even if he knew where one was. And there was no guarantee it would be empty. This late into the match, every safe spot was contested.
He clicked his tongue.
"So someone already claimed this one."
For a brief moment, he considered retreating. But the math did not work in his favor. Running meant death. Hesitation meant death. Only one option remained.
"Guess small sacrifices have to be made for the greater good," he sighed, cocking his weapon.
He forced the door open.
The player inside had clearly been expecting this. Instead of panicking, the man smirked. A circular glowing object formed in each of his hands, humming softly before he hurled them straight at Reever.
Grenades.
The container door slammed shut immediately after.
"Oh shit," Reever cursed inwardly.
He turned and sprinted away as fast as his reinforced legs allowed. His armor whirred softly as it pushed his movement to the limit. A split second later, the grenades detonated.
The explosion was violent but contained. Thick smoke burst outward, rolling across the ground and swallowing the area in gray clouds.
Reever skidded to a stop several meters away and turned back, watching the smoke rise.
"Damn," he muttered. "This guy played me well."
He checked the timer again.
Forty seconds.
The enemy's plan was clear. Force Reever to retreat, buy time, and secure the container uncontested. It was smart. Too smart to ignore.
Reever did not hesitate.
He rushed back toward the container, pushing straight through the thinning smoke. He grabbed the door and pulled hard.
It did not budge.
He raised his weapon and fired several shots at the door. The bullets sparked and fell uselessly to the ground.
Reever froze for half a second.
Then he smacked his helmet lightly.
"Am I an idiot," he muttered. "This thing can take a missile. Bullets are nothing."
Thirty seconds remained.
He did not know where the next container was. Even if he did, there was no time to reach it. This one was his only chance.
Reever's mind raced.
Then he smiled.
He opened his piggy bag quickly and rummaged through the contents. Explosive gadgets. Several of them. Loot he had taken without much thought earlier.
He began planting them around the container. Carefully. Quickly. Every movement precise.
"Hahaha," he laughed softly. "Let us see how you react to this."
He backed away, positioned himself at an angle, and raised his sniper rifle. His finger hovered over the trigger, eyes locked on the container door.
Then he pressed the detonator.
The explosion was far stronger than the grenades earlier. Debris flew. Smoke and dust blasted outward, rattling the surrounding ruins.
Inside the container, the other player panicked.
"What the hell," the man muttered. "Did the missile drop early. This timer must be broken."
Cautiously, he cracked the door open.
A head popped out.
Reever did not hesitate.
One shot.
Clean.
The bullet tore through the man's skull, blood and fragments splattering instantly. Reever did not flinch. He had seen worse. And this was still just a game. Pain would fade. Death was temporary.
Five seconds remained.
Reever sprinted forward, grabbed the limp body, and dragged it out of the container. He shoved it aside and slipped inside, sealing the door shut just as the system screamed its warning.
Reever stood still inside the container as the outside world burned.
The sound of missiles crashing into the ground came in waves. Each impact felt closer than the last, even though the container was designed to protect against exactly this kind of destruction. The metal walls vibrated violently. Dust fell from the ceiling in thin streams, brushing against his armor and shoulders.
"That was a close one," he sighed.
If the other player had been more cautious, even by a second, Reever would have been dead. The gamble had nearly cost him everything.
For a brief moment, the thought crossed his mind that if the system had lied, if the container failed even once, then nothing he did up to this point would matter. That was the nature of the game. Preparation gave you an edge, not a guarantee.
Slowly, the sounds faded.
The roaring sky quieted. The tremors weakened, then stopped completely.
A mechanical click echoed inside the container.
The door unlocked.
Reever did not rush out immediately. He waited a few seconds longer, listening carefully. Silence returned, thick and heavy. Only then did he place his hand on the door and push it open.
The battlefield outside barely resembled the place it had been minutes earlier.
Large craters overlapped one another, forming trenches and broken paths across the field. Smoke drifted lazily through the air, blurring visibility and carrying the sharp scent of scorched earth. Several anti missile containers that once stood nearby were gone. Not damaged. Gone. Reduced to twisted debris scattered across the ground.
Anyone who had chosen those spots had made their final mistake.
Reever stepped out carefully, scanning his surroundings as his sensors adjusted. His boots crunched against gravel and shattered stone. A lifeless body lay not far from the container, half buried under rubble. The player had been too slow. Or too confident.
He checked the system timer.
Ten minutes remained.
Then another message appeared.
Three players remaining.
Moments later, the golden list descended from the sky once again, glowing brilliantly against the smoke filled battlefield.
Reever's name sat at the very top.
Rank one.
The list did not show scores. It never did at this stage. The system loved mystery. No one knew how close they were to victory until the bombs fell and the rankings appeared.
Reever studied the list calmly.
Being first meant something dangerous.
It meant he was the target.
The list vanished.
Reever stepped out of the container and scanned the battlefield. His armor showed no damage. His systems were stable. Energy levels were full.
He was still in perfect condition.
The other two players would not be foolish. They would come for him. Slowly. Carefully.
With ten minutes remaining, Reever adjusted his grip on his weapon.
He straightened his posture.
"Time to hunt," he said quietly.
This time, he would not wait.
This time, he would be the predator.