The Technology Building''s main computer lab had been transformed for the Valor Strike Championship. Normally home to programming classes and late-night coding sessions, today it hosted fifty eager participants. The institutional fluorescent lighting cast harsh shadows across faces both determined and nervous. Students unpacked their gaming mice and keyboards, customizing their stations at the rows of university computers.
Lance claimed his spot, the familiar weight of his worn gaming mouse providing small comfort. Around him, the air hummed with the sound of cooling fans and pre-game chatter. The scent of energy drinks mixed with the sterile computer lab air, creating an atmosphere thick with competition.
"Alright, everyone! Welcome to the Valor Strike Championship!" the tournament organizer announced, his voice booming through the speakers. "Today, we kick off with an intense Battle Royale mode. The last eight standing will advance to the double-elimination 1v1 tournament. May the best gamer win!"
Lance felt the weight of his headset tighten around his ears. Reid and Jasper had insisted on coming to support him, positioning themselves behind his assigned station with encouraging grins.
"You''re going to crush it, Lance," Reid whispered, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
Jasper, a bundle of energy, bounced beside Reid. "Yeah, man! Just remember, it''s all about strategy and keeping your cool. And if you win, we''ll throw you a victory party!"
Lance managed a faint smile. "Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it."
A few rows back, Maya watched the preparations. "Lance, remember to breathe. Focus on one match at a time," she reminded him, her blue-streaked hair catching the ambient light.
He nodded, taking another steadying breath. Focus. Just focus.
The battle royale erupted into action. Fifty players dropped into the virtual arena, scrambling to secure weapons, power-ups, and strategic positions. The arena unfolded across a landscape of imposing structures, tangled wilderness, and unforgiving terrain, testing the limits of even the most seasoned players.
Lance''s fingers danced across the keyboard with practiced ease, his gaze shifting between the glowing screen and the watchful eyes around him. Chaos reigned in the initial phase—players sprinted, looted, and engaged in fierce firefights. He prioritized survival, sticking to the shadows and avoiding unnecessary confrontations.
"Watch out, incoming missiles!" Jasper shouted.
"Jasper, calm down" Reid laughed. "Maybe stick to cheering him on, buddy. We don''t need any equipment casualties before the big day."
Jasper grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "No promises."
Lance chuckled, appreciating the momentary relief. "Yeah, thanks for that."
As the battle royale advanced, the virtual safe zone shrunk, forcing players into tighter spaces and heightening the intensity. Lance found himself in a few skirmishes, each encounter testing his reflexes and strategy. His temporal anomalies had been a boon in practice, granting him heightened reaction speeds and predictive abilities. But today, everything seemed normal.
The crowd cheered as players were eliminated one by one, their avatars fading out with dramatic effects. Lance focused on staying in the game, using judiciously caution to outlast the competition. Every decision mattered—engaging in a fight or avoiding confrontation could mean the difference between victory and elimination.
Between firefights, Lance glimpsed Phantom, the tournament favorite—a player renowned for uncanny precision and ruthless tactics. Phantom moved through the arena like a ghost, eliminating opponents with accuracy.
The final moments of the battle royale blurred into a frenzy of action. As the last few players were eliminated, Lance faced Phantom in a tense standoff. The showdown was swift and brutal, both players displaying their best skills. In the end, Lance was able to take the win due to Phantom being low from his previous encounter.
After an hour of relentless competition, only eight players remained.
"Prepare for the transition to the double-elimination tournament. Good luck to our final eight," the organizer announced, his voice steady and commanding.
Lance felt a surge of relief and accomplishment. He glanced around, catching the proud smiles of Reid, Jasper, and Maya. "We did it," he whispered, a mix of exhaustion and triumph in his voice.
With the battle royale concluded, the focus shifted to the double-elimination bracket. The final eight players seated at their designated stations knew that only two losses would mean elimination.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Lance took his seat, the weight of his headset familiar but not enough to calm his racing heart. "This is it," he thought. The real test begins now.
The tournament organizer''s voice boomed again, signaling the start of the double-elimination rounds. "Welcome, final eight! Prepare yourselves for the next phase of the Valor Strike Championship. Remember, two losses mean elimination. May the best player emerge victorious!"
Lance''s first opponent was unfortunately Phantom, the lanky sophomore had thick glasses and a confident smirk.
"Let''s see how you measure up when I have a full health bar," Phantom sneered, his tone laced with contempt.
As the match loaded, Lance felt the familiar pressure building behind his eyes—but instead of slowing time, everything accelerated. The match began, and Lance immediately sensed the difference. His shots missed by milliseconds, landing just out of reach. Phantom''s smirk widened with each missed opportunity.
"What''s happening?" Lance muttered, adjusting his mouse sensitivity between rounds. "Come on, come on..."
This wasn''t meant to unfold like this. The time glitches should be on my side, not against me.
Lance lost the first round badly, his shots missing by mere fractions of a second. Phantom''s confidence soared. "See, you can’t beat me in a fair fight," he sneered as the scoreboard flashed his victory.
Droplets of perspiration pearled across Lance''s brow. This wasn''t meant to unfold like this. The time glitches should be on my side, not against me.
With one loss, Lance moved to the losers'' bracket, where the competition was just as fierce but offered a second chance to reach the finals. The pressure was immense; a second loss meant elimination.
His next opponent was a freshman who seemed more interested in her phone than the game. Lance focused, trying to center himself like Maya had taught him. For a moment, time normalized—just long enough for him to secure a narrow victory.
"There you go!" Jasper cheered, practically bouncing. "The comeback starts now!"
Lance managed a strained smile. "Thanks, Jasper. I needed that."
These anomalies are sabotaging me, he thought, desperation clawing at his chest.
The next match in the losers'' bracket was against a veteran player known for his strategic mind and unshakeable composure. Lance tried to focus, but time refused to bend to his will. His movements were sluggish, his reactions delayed by crucial fractions of a second.
No. I can''t lose here. Not now.
Lance summoned every ounce of determination, every fragment of skill. His movements became more deliberate, each action a calculated brushstroke. Slowly, he began to gain ground, his shots landing more accurately.
The veteran player conceded with a nod, impressed despite the loss. "Good game," he said, his voice carrying a hint of respect.
Lance felt a surge of hope. I''m still in this. I can make it to the finals.
The next match was against a rival who had given him a lot of trouble during the Battle Royale. The tension was palpable as Lance prepared, knowing that one more loss would mean elimination.
The match was intense. Time anomalies tried to sabotage him again, but he fought through them, slowing his playstyle to be more deliberate and not overextend so he wasn’t affected as badly when things accelerated.
In a crucial moment, Lance countered with a perfectly timed move, securing a decisive victory.
The crowd around his station erupted in applause. "You did it, Lance!" Reid exclaimed, his pride evident.
Lance felt a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. I''m stunned I''ve actually reached the finals.
In the end, defying expectations, he reached the finals. His opponent: Phantom.
The lights felt too bright as they set up for the championship match. Lance''s hands shook as he adjusted his keyboard position. This is it.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer''s booming voice swept through the arena, "welcome to our championship bout!"
From the opening exchange, Lance swiftly recognized his precarious situation. Phantom moved with terrifying efficiency, each action incredibly skilled. Lance struggled to keep up, feeling himself handicapped by how much he’d come to rely on the time glitches during training. It was handicapping him know without it.
The score quickly became lopsided: 0-3 in Phantom''s favor. Frustration welled up behind Lance''s eyes. He had come so close to helping his mom, only to fail when it mattered most. The crowd''s energy shifted from excitement to pity as they watched him falter. This isn''t happening. Why can''t I just play like I''ve been trained to?
"Come on, Lance!" Jasper''s voice cut through his despair. "You''re not done yet! Best 2 of 3."
Maya''s quiet presence behind him radiated support, and Reid''s steady hand remained on his shoulder. Drawing strength from their belief, Lance squared his shoulders and focused on the screen. For a brief moment, everything aligned—his timing, his aim, his game sense. He won the next round barely. Yes, I can do this, he thought, a spark of hope igniting within him.
But it was a temporary reprieve. As the final round began, Phantom seemed to anticipate his every move, always one step ahead. The match point arrived with brutal swiftness.
Lance watched helplessly as Phantom lined up the final shot. The world held its breath. Then everything accelerated at once, and the killing blow landed.
GAME OVER flashed across his screen in bold red letters, burning into his retinas. The crowd erupted in cheers for Phantom''s victory, but Lance barely heard them. He sat frozen, staring at the two words as reality rippled around him.
Then something impossible happened. The world lurched sideways, colors smearing like wet paint. When his vision cleared, he was back at the start of the final match—same bright lights, same buzzing crowd, same enigmatic opponent. The GAME OVER screen had vanished, replaced by the ominous pre-game countdown.
A cold realization settled in his chest. It''s a loop.
Lance''s breath caught as understanding dawned. He looked around wildly, but no one else seemed to notice the reset. Reid and Jasper still stood behind him, wearing the same encouraging expressions. Maya''s sketchbook showed the same half-finished drawing.
Lance''s hands moved to his keyboard, muscle memory taking over even as his mind raced with implications. I have to break free. I can''t get caught in another of these.
As Phantom''s character appeared on his screen, Lance felt time flex around him.