Chapter 3: The Bait and Switch
Mila’s heart thudded in her chest as she sprinted through the desolate streets of the plaza. The digital constructs of the Arena shifted around her, the once-sturdy buildings now crumbling ruins, the streets littered with debris and forgotten relics of the old world. The sky above was a sickly shade of orange, casting a dim glow over everything, making it hard to distinguish what was real from what was simulated. Her breath came in ragged gasps, the sound of it muffled in her ears as adrenaline surged through her veins.
The Syndicate was still behind her, their footsteps echoing in the empty space, getting closer with every passing second. Mila’s mind raced, her options narrowing with every moment. She couldn’t outrun them. She couldn’t fight them all head-on. There was only one thing left to do—trap them.
Her fingers twitched, and she accessed the game’s interface, pulling up the map of the surrounding area. The plaza was large, but it had a few strategic points that could give her an edge. The question was whether she could get to them in time.
She glanced over her shoulder again, seeing the crimson figures of the Syndicate closing in. They were faster than she had anticipated. Mila cursed under her breath. She had underestimated them. They were ruthless, calculating, and relentless—everything she didn’t want to face.
But she wasn’t just going to be a pawn in their game. Not today.
Her eyes landed on a nearby building, its skeletal frame half-collapsed but still standing. It had a vantage point—a second-floor balcony with a perfect view of the plaza. If she could get up there, she could pick them off one by one, using the environment to her advantage. It was risky, but she had no other choice.
With a final glance at the map, she darted toward the building, zigzagging through the ruins to throw off her pursuers. She could hear the sounds of them gaining, the heavy clank of their boots against the pavement, the rustling of their weapons. They were close now—too close.
Mila reached the base of the building, her eyes scanning the debris for a way up. She spotted a metal pipe protruding from the wall, an imperfect but effective ladder. Without hesitation, she grabbed onto it, pulling herself up as quickly as she could. Her muscles screamed in protest, but she ignored the pain. She couldn’t afford to slow down. Not now.
As she reached the second-floor balcony, she hoisted herself over the edge, landing with a soft thud. She pressed her back against the wall, waiting for the Syndicate to pass. She could hear them now, just below her, their voices low but filled with malice.
“She went this way,” one of them growled, his voice cutting through the silence.
Mila’s pulse quickened. They hadn’t seen her yet. If she timed this right, she could strike before they even knew what hit them.
She checked the weapons cache she’d scavenged earlier. A few grenades, a compact rifle, and a couple of medpacks. It wasn’t much, but it would have to be enough. She attached the grenades to her belt, the cold metal a reminder of how dangerous things had gotten. Mila never liked to rely on explosives, but in this game, it was survival or nothing.
Her fingers brushed over the rifle, adjusting the settings. She would need precision. She could take out one of them from here, but the other two would be a problem.
She peered over the edge of the balcony, watching the Syndicate members below. They were spread out, searching for any sign of movement. Mila’s gaze locked onto the leader—the tall figure with the red eyes. He was standing just below her, his rifle slung across his back as he scanned the area. If she could eliminate him, the rest would scatter. They wouldn’t know how to function without their leader.
Her finger hovered over the trigger. One shot. That’s all she needed.
Suddenly, a loud explosion rocked the building, the shockwave sending Mila stumbling backward. The Syndicate members reacted immediately, ducking for cover and drawing their weapons. They were on high alert now, and the element of surprise was gone.
Mila cursed, her heart pounding. She didn’t know what had caused the explosion, but she wasn’t about to wait around to find out. She scrambled to her feet, scanning the area for another way to outmaneuver them.
The Syndicate had already regrouped, taking cover behind a nearby pile of rubble. They were smart—far smarter than she had anticipated. They knew how to play the game, how to think ahead. And they had the numbers.
But Mila wasn’t without tricks of her own.
She quickly activated another special ability: Cloak. It wasn’t perfect—just a simple invisibility feature that would allow her to move unseen for a short period of time. It wasn’t long enough to escape completely, but it was enough to give her an opening.
The world around her shimmered as her body became translucent, blending with the environment. She took a deep breath, feeling her heartbeat slow as the cloak wrapped around her like a second skin.
Moving carefully, she dropped to the ground and began to crawl toward the edge of the building. Her mind was working faster than her body. She had to be precise. The Cloak wouldn’t last long, and she couldn’t waste it.
She reached the edge and peered over. The Syndicate was still searching, their eyes scanning the area for any sign of movement. The leader, who had been so close, was now further away—too far for her to get a clean shot.
But there was another option.
Mila’s eyes flicked to the grenade she had attached to her belt. The blast radius would take out at least two of them, if she timed it right. It was a risky play, but it was the only play.
She reached down, grabbing the grenade and pulling the pin. With a steady hand, she tossed it toward the Syndicate’s position, watching as it bounced and rolled into their line of sight. The moment it hit the ground, Mila turned and ran, her heart hammering in her chest.
The explosion was deafening. The shockwave rattled the entire building, and the Syndicate was caught in the blast, their avatars disintegrating into pixels. Mila didn’t look back. She didn’t have time to savor the victory. She had to keep moving.
As the smoke cleared, Mila emerged from her Cloak, breathing heavily, her hands trembling. She had done it. For now, at least.
But the game was far from over. The countdown for the next challenge had already begun. And Alpha… Alpha was still out there.
