The fluorescent lights flickered to life, showing a long corridor with a grid pattern. There were crates in front of me, wooden ones and a few made of metal. To my right, there was a brown door in the beige wall. Not all the lights in the ceiling had come on, and further up ahead, maybe as far as I could chuck a frag grenade, there was a wall of darkness.


    Suddenly, red lights in the ceiling came to life and started rotating where the darkness began, and an alarm warbled. In the pulsating red light, I saw shadows running at me.


    I pulled Laridian’s Edge and ran for the left one of the metal crates. Three purple dots lit up at the end of the corridor. I dove for cover. The floor flashed up in neon light as the plasma bolts flashed over my head and smashed into the back wall.


    I got up, ran diagonal for a crate on my right. It was one of the wooden ones. It jerked and rattled, splinters flying as the approaching enemies unloaded on it. I stared though the gaps in the remaining wood, four of them, in total. Plasma guns all around. I could take these fools down. I rose behind the remains of the crate, four dots lit up to my left, all of them hunkering behind the same metal crate. A frag grenade would clear them out, but I wasn’t wasting a grenade down here in Zone 1.


    I ran for the crate, swinging the sword left to right in a tight eight, creating what could only be described as a shield in front of me. The plasma bolts came flying, my sword munched them up and with a theatrical shriek I jumped the crate with the sword above my head. They stared up at me, teeth clenched and eyes wide with fear. I swung down on them, two fast slashes were all that it took. Got some meagre XP and no new achievements. I looted their corpses. More useless level 1 plasma guns. Some energy cells and two stim packs.


    A pleasant female voice declared:


    <i>Wave 1 cleared – prepare for Wave 2</i>


    On the floor in bright read laser writing, the number 20 popped up. Then it shifted to 19. A countdown. I started for the door to the saferoom, pulling it open. I went in and closed it, and had a look around. A worn brown table with a chair. Raw concrete walls that looked water damaged, but nothing else. Didn’t know what I expected, but rather find out now than deep into Zone 3. I had access to my inventory and above it a rectangular sign read:


    <b>End Mission? Yes/No</b>


    I chose no and returned out to the corridor. The number on the floor switched to 16.


    Interesting, the countdown was paused as soon as I went into the safe room. Good to know. The number on the floor switched to 15. I darted for the next zone.


    There was a white line going wall to wall up ahead and when I crossed it, the female voice stated:


    <i>Now entering Zone 2</i>


    I whipped out my plasma rifle. Better test it now before the enemies got to tough. The charge meter, a bar on the side of the rifle was shining a dull orange. As I was trying to figure out how to recharge the battery, the charge meter went from orange to bright green, and one of the energy cells in my inventory was highlighted with a frame of glowing blue, it’s percentage stats dropping from 100 to 30.


    Nifty.


    The number on the floor shifted from 2 to 1 and then the red light came back down and the warble commenced. I put the rifle to my shoulder, staring down the sights. Movement ahead, in the dark. I fired. There was that annoying fraction of a second delay before the shot went off; probably annoying for anyone but more so for a trained sniper. I let my breathing go to quick and the green bolt hit the roof. The enemies started hollering to each other and fanned out, taking cover behind the crates. Already, these enemies proved more skilled than the other crew that had bunched together behind that one crate.


    They started firing on me. I was safe behind the metal crate and tried to get a feel for them, when the right time was to pop up and start shooting back. Well, now was as good a time as ever. I whipped my rifle over the top of the crate, hunching behind it and – holy crap! One of them had been advancing while the others fired, and was almost on top of me. He raised his gun but I was faster. I pulled the trigger. From this distance, maybe 15 feet, the level 3 gun did some serious damage. I hit him in the chest, he stumbled backwards, the chest protection of hard plastic melted and smoldered. I fired again and hit him straight in the face.


    It was nasty.


    His skinned peeled right of and he collapsed backwards, his gun rattling away over the floor. I ducked back behind cover as his friends started blasting me like crazy. I was pinned down. What could I do? Just hunker down and wait for them to waste all their ammo? Well, I could do that, but at the same time, another one of them could be sneaking up on me at this very moment. I peeked out at the side of the crate. There were two of them behind the crate to the right, and probably one to the left, but I couldn’t see for sure from this angle. I jerked my head back just as a blast reflected of the corner of the crate, leaving a sharp smell of burnt metall. These guys weren’t tooting level 1 equipment. I cursed between my teeth. Who had ended up with that riot shield from yesterday? Was it Jason? Wouldn’t do him much good now, but I could certainly have used it here. I was sure it could’ve taken at least a couple of plasma blast before it fell apart. An idea occurred to me. I put my shoulder to the crate and pushed. It slid over the floor.


    <i>Ahhh.</i>


    Needed to act fast on this one. I took some deep breathes, filled my lunges with oxygen and then I started pushing as fast as I could, like a linebacker at the fifth yard line. The crate slammed into the one in front of it, the two enemies to my right suddenly visible. I shot at them, fired as fast as I could and they went down in smoking piles.


    I bolted to my feet, rifle to my shoulder, aimed at the top of the crate in front of me. I backed away slowly and silently, never taking my sights of the top of the crate. The last of the guys popped up, trying to get his plasma gun into position to shoot. I unloaded on him before he could and he went down as fast as he had popped up.


    I skirted around the crate, my rifle at the ready. There were no more red dots on the map, but old habits die hard. Only the dead enemy, crumpled behind the crate. I looted him. A level 2 plasma gun. More stim packs and energy cells and – <i>hey</i>! – almost 400 credits. Thank you very much. The other three enemies had pretty much the same stuff, bar the credits, but the loot wasn’t the most valuable things I gathered. It was the XP. I was close to hit level 8, now.


    <i>Wave 2 cleared – prepare for Wave 3</i>


    The countdown restarted. Further up ahead was another white line, out of sight from where I stood, but I decided against going for it, and instead grind Zone 2 for a while, these guys I could handle.


    The red lights dropped, the warble began and I aimed at the end of the corridor.


    The next batch of enemies, four this time, behaved much like the ones I already disposed of in this zone, but there was something about how they moved. They felt a little bit more alert, quicker and while I sat crouching behind the metallic crate, I understood why. I could be standing here the whole day, restocking my energy cells, wiping out the same set of enemies farming XP and loot until the sun set. Even if I stayed in Zone 2, the enemies became progressively harder. It had been a mistake staying in Zone 2, then. As soon as this was over, I had to advance to Zone 3, getting as many waves as possible there before I needed to bail out.


    I won the second round in Zone 2 as well, not taking any damage, replenishing the resources I’ve wasted, and making my stock pile of stim packs even higher. Save from a head shot, they would have a hard time killing me.


    I was confident when I advanced into Zone 3, my level bar now one eight to level 8.


    The red lights dropped; the warble began. From the floor turrets popped up, spewing fire and bullets. I ducked behind the usual center metallic crate, bullets whizzing over my head, eyes wide.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    <i>Holy fuck!</i>


    That was a new one.


    The bullets smacked into the crate like lethal, horizontal hail, making it shudder by the sheer force. There was no way I could do anything as those two death machines were spinning. Then they stopped shooting, still whirring and spinning but I heard them come to a <i>clackety-clack</i>-stop. I bolted to my feet, rifle ready to shoot, but no one was advancing on me. Instead, I saw a black grenade being lobbed from the back of a crate, having a perfect angle. This might sound like bullshit and empty boasting, but I stood right there, watching it come, while the ones hoping for my imminent death was in cover behind their own metal crates. It wasn’t like they had chucked it hard, even a little leaguer would have caught that grenade, and that was what I did, and tossed it right back.


    Another perfect arc.


    I dropped down behind the crate, mouth open hands pressed to my ears.


    <i>Bang!</i>


    A grenade explosion was such a simple thing. No swelling and building of the boom, just this single sharp <i>bang</i> that was like a punch in the chest. Three of the red dots was vanquished in the instant.


    A string of new achievements rolled up my field of view, XP popping like crazy and I faintly saw the number 9 swell above the progress bar.


    <i>Goddamnit!</i>


    I couldn’t have all this clutter in my face when in combat. I needed to correct that later.


    I jumped up on my crate, rifle once again aimed at the top of the crate in front of me.


    “Come on, come on, come on,” I mumbled, a drop of sweat trickling down my temple.


    Finally, the remaining enemy came out; he probably intended to do a daring last attack that would go down in the ages, but he was severely hobbled and came out dragging his limp leg behind. The turrets wound up and again and ripped the poor guy to pieces. An interesting thing that, those turrets didn’t make any difference between friend and foe, the killed anything that moved. Another good thing to know. And, they couldn’t fire above chest height either. I dared a quick look at my progress bar and I had indeed hit level 9. Awesome.


    <i>Wave 4 cleared – prepare for Wave 5</i>


    <i>No! My loot! My precious loot!</i>


    Those stupid turrets wouldn’t let me get to it.


    <i>Merde</i>! As the French would say.


    In a desperate attempt I started pushing the crate towards the turrets. They reacted to the movement as one could expect, and wound up again, the crate jerking and twitching from the impacts slamming into it.


    One of the turrets started to sputter. The clattering from bullets became more intense as I pushed the crate closer. Soon the sound of the howling turrets couldn’t be told apart from the screeching bullets. There was first one <i>poof</i>, followed by a screeching sound that ended it a bang. One of the turrets came rattling across the floor, billowing black smoke.


    <b>Achievement Unlocked: Master sabotage – awarded for destroying a defensive installation.</b>


    <b>Award: 500 XP, 500 Credits</b>


    Hell, they shredded themselves to junk. Without wasting another breath, I jumped over the crate and looted the hell out of my fallen enemies. Stim-packs and energy cells. Then I spotted a golden loot box at the far corner. The countdown had recommenced. I darted for the box, didn’t open it but instead pulled it into my inventory before retreating back to my battered crate.


    The lights dropped, the warble commenced, and the enemies came running through the dim red light. But the turrets didn’t respawn. They were once and for all broken. I wasn’t leaving Zone 3 then. Hell no. My assumption was that the difficulty level took into account working turrets and that proved to be right.


    I dispatched the following three waves without much difficulty. My plasma rifle, that I now considered as my <i>trusted</i> plasma rifle, was running out of ammo, though. The energy cells I picked up after every battle was for level 1 and level 2 energy weapons and my level 3 rifle sucked them dry faster than I could replenish them. Was it lack if ammo that would finally force me to bail out? Looked like it. I could do a hail marry and advance to Zone 4 and hope for some proper energy cell drops, but that would at the same time ramp up the difficulty to an insane level. I understand it makes for better fiction if I had made the reckless move and advanced, but it makes for even poorer fiction getting myself killed, starting over at level 1. I’ll take my risks when I hit level 10 – thank you very much – and that, I’ glad to say isn’t that far of. Maybe half the level bar.


    The lights dropped; the warble commenced. I saw at once that this round would be different. The shadows advancing through the dim light looked different from before, <i>chunkier</i>. I stared down the sight, my index finger at the ready on the trigger. Two of the enemies was wearing metal harnesses with bulky shoulder pauldrons, and helmets with face masks of metal leaving only slits to see through. And, even worse, they were carrying assault rifles. The other two enemies were the standard ones, wearing camo and those flimsy harnesses that looked like they were made of some hard plastic.


    I fired.


    The plasma bolt lit up the hallway, struck one of the hulking soldiers in the head, reflecting of his helmet.


    <i>Craaaap.</i>


    I dropped down behind the crate as the plasma bolts started smacking into the crate. This could be a tough one. I couldn’t sit idle and hope for the best. I’ve learnt my lesson on that part. I stuck my head up.


    <i>Ha-kra-kra-kra-kra…!    </i>


    The slow and sluggish firing of a 7.62 caliber assault rifle. I ducked back in as the bullets came flying. Time for those grenades, I would think. The thought alone was enough for putting the grenade in my hand. I pulled the pin and twisted my torso as far as I could, and tossed it over the crate.


    Screams and frightened chatter.


    Like music to my ears.


    The shuddering bang. Two red dots vanquished. I popped up, firing crazily all over the place, starring right into the barrel of an assault rifle. I saw the muzzle flash as I tried to slide back into safety. The left side of my body exploded in trembling pain, and I collapsed rather than slid to safety.


    <i>Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck.</i>


    I clutched my side. Blood was spilling through my fingers. It felt as if something was loose inside my body. My left leg had gone numb and I couldn’t move it. My heart hammered, the pressure of rushing blood through my fingers not subsiding.


    My health bar was deep in the red, just a sliver of it left.


    Darkness crept into the periphery of my vision. I popped a stim pack directly from the inventory. The darkness crept closer, my field of vision turning grey, my health bar not moving.


    <i>No.</i>


    I tried to take another stim pack but there was a timer of yellow numbers rushing in my vision, counting down from 30 seconds. It was 21 seconds until I could take another stim pack. I’d lost my sense of hearing. Only the sound of my slowing heart beat was in my ears, heavy slow… thuds. I clamped down with my front teeth on the tip of my tongue. The silvery pain lanced through my head lifting some of the grey, sounds coming back as hollow echoes.


    14 seconds.


    I could’ve imagined it, but through the booming echoes of my heart I thought I heard agitated voices discussing. <i>Yeah, do that. Bicker… Bicker and fight… Bicker… do not go to… I’m deadly to you…kill you all…</i>


    A big zero flashed for my eyes. I gasped and popped another stim pack. My health bar went up into the orange. A new countdown started, 60 seconds this time. I glanced at the door to the safe room. I couldn’t bail out but maybe I could go in there during the stim pack countdown? I didn’t know if that was allowed. But I could try. If I just… no, my left leg was busted. I wouldn’t support me. It wouldn’t be me darting to the safe room, it would be me lumbering like a human slouch, getting pelted by a zillion bullets. And most probably, the door would be locked.


    I heard their voices clearly now, and they were indeed discussing, probably arguing who would be the one to move forward and deliver the killing shot.


    I gave of a cackling mad laugh.


    “When you come, fellas! Watch the trip wire!”


    There was no trip wire, of course, but if they thought there was, maybe I could prolong their bickering another, oh crap, 38 seconds. As it was, no one of them decided they were in the mood to come check on me. Instead, they sent a grenade. Well, couldn’t say I was surprised. That was what I would’ve done as well. It hit the top of the crate and bounced over my head. It came to a spinning stop maybe six feet from me. An instant death if I ever saw one. I lunged at it. Too short a time to pick it up and hurl it back and my mangled perforated body wouldn’t have the ability to do so. Instead, I swatted at it with my palm, sending it spinning over the floor, hitting the crate behind me, and – thank God almighty – sliding in behind another metal crate.


    <i>Bang!</i>


    The crate shuddered. Shrapnel painted the walls in black speckles. Blood was once again oozing from my side from the careless, life-saving, dive. But, a big flashing zero eased not only my mind, but also my pain. I popped another stim pack and my health was back in the low greens, my left leg once again operational and the excruciating pain in my side reduced to a dull throb.


    The sounds of army boots thudding behind me.


    I spun over to my back. Aiming between my feet. They still thought I was behind the crate and it proved that a plasma bolt hitting right at the temple of a helmet had the power to burn through. The head of the soldier rattled and he collapsed. I sprayed the one behind. The second of the chunky soldiers and the bolt hit him in the ribs, just under his armpit. He lurched back around the crate, to safety, clutching his smoldering side. The two remaining soldiers followed suite.


    Time for some payback.


    I pulled out my last frag grenade and threw it. Two of the red dots fanned out, retreating back into the zone. One ff them didn’t, and when the grenade blew, that red dot flickered out. I was already on my feet, staring down the sight of the rifle, seeing the two remaining soldiers running for cover. I shot them in the back. No remorse. They went to the floor like someone had cut their strings.


    My level bar stretched all the way over to the right, and reappeared to the far left.


    <i>You have reached level 10</i>


    I closed my eyes in relief and joy, but wasn’t able to savor the moment. I had exactly 20 seconds to gather my loot and bail out. I rifled through all the corpses, throwing everything into my inventory without even looking at it. Rushing to the corner grabbing the golden loot box before hustling for the door. I snatched it open as the number at the floor switched from 4 to 3. I slammed it shut, panting with my hand still on the door knob.


    <b>End Mission? Yes/No</b>


    I ended it, opened the door to the safe room and stepped out through the dented metal door to the street.