"Duty calls evermore. Is that not our way, Meteor?"
The man's voice accented by a formal practice reached a level of command that frightened the remaining Gunpla battlers in the free-for-all. He knew it to be true, his level of skill: his speed, reflexes, and eerie ability to sense other players exceeded his current rank. Many were beginning to recognize the credibility of his username. While many carried the overused title, this battler, whose face had remained the anonymous gray and generic avatar carried himself like one.
"Its ... Its impossible."
A custom blue Zaku steadied itself on his heat-axe, "My Force ...our Force, he obliterated them all single ... singlehandedly."
A graveyard of countless Gunpla were on display, deathly shades concealed by dark debris and smoke. At the center of it all was King's custom unit: the Congealed Meteor. Alone he had racked up enough points to easily dominate the free-for-all. He showed tenacity by even entering the Dragon's Den-a dangerous battle royal that could mean a serious payout for the top three-winners, often skyrocketing them up the ladder. However, it could seriously damage one's Gunpla which is why Forces participated under the pretense of solo players regularly.
King's lone participation and subsequent victory was an upsetting, awe-inspiring event. The match was nothing short of shocking. King had sent waves throughout GBN, quickly taking over the number one trending topic. Him and his crimson suit had become famous as a rising star. His generation's Red Comet.
Isamu Jo ran through GBN's main area. School had been such a bummer, another silent day filled with boring Gunpla-less people. A massive monitor situated far above silently played, on it was feed from King's infamous match. Isamu came to halt, running in place as he admired the crimson mech weaving a trail of destruction.
There was a few household names in the world of GBN and King had become its new addition.
"One day that'll be me."
A little later he approached the main desk requesting to take one of the newer missions. The attendant looked over his profile. "I see you're not in a Force. To take this request requires a minimum of three players. Would you like to join a randomized lobby?"
Isamu thought it over for a moment. "Yea, for sure!"
Inside his G-Nexus-a model of the G-Self with inverted hues and a stungle rifle set on its back-Isamu propelled his Gunpla into the battlefield. The instant he left the city and arrived over the expanse of water, dotted with islands, his map reacted to the moving enemies of the mission.
A coordinated group of six Dinns sortied through the sky 1300 meters away. Their red optics glowed as they readied their assault machine guns.
"Crap," he muttered, grabbing his stungle rifle from his back and aimed down its center. "I hope this new rifle pays its dues today." And with a squeeze of the trigger, a pink beam bolted from its barrel towards the Dinns.
Like a true group of veterans, they all maneuvered out of its predictable path.
"Crap, guess there's a reason why I needed a team."
The man's voice accented by a formal practice reached a level of command that frightened the remaining Gunpla battlers in the free-for-all. He knew it to be true, his level of skill: his speed, reflexes, and eerie ability to sense other players exceeded his current rank. Many were beginning to recognize the credibility of his username. While many carried the overused title, this battler, whose face had remained the anonymous gray and generic avatar carried himself like one.
"Its ... Its impossible."
A custom blue Zaku steadied itself on his heat-axe, "My Force ...our Force, he obliterated them all single ... singlehandedly."
A graveyard of countless Gunpla were on display, deathly shades concealed by dark debris and smoke. At the center of it all was King's custom unit: the Congealed Meteor. Alone he had racked up enough points to easily dominate the free-for-all. He showed tenacity by even entering the Dragon's Den-a dangerous battle royal that could mean a serious payout for the top three-winners, often skyrocketing them up the ladder. However, it could seriously damage one's Gunpla which is why Forces participated under the pretense of solo players regularly.
King's lone participation and subsequent victory was an upsetting, awe-inspiring event. The match was nothing short of shocking. King had sent waves throughout GBN, quickly taking over the number one trending topic. Him and his crimson suit had become famous as a rising star. His generation's Red Comet.
Isamu Jo ran through GBN's main area. School had been such a bummer, another silent day filled with boring Gunpla-less people. A massive monitor situated far above silently played, on it was feed from King's infamous match. Isamu came to halt, running in place as he admired the crimson mech weaving a trail of destruction.
There was a few household names in the world of GBN and King had become its new addition.
"One day that'll be me."
A little later he approached the main desk requesting to take one of the newer missions. The attendant looked over his profile. "I see you're not in a Force. To take this request requires a minimum of three players. Would you like to join a randomized lobby?"
Isamu thought it over for a moment. "Yea, for sure!"
Inside his G-Nexus-a model of the G-Self with inverted hues and a stungle rifle set on its back-Isamu propelled his Gunpla into the battlefield. The instant he left the city and arrived over the expanse of water, dotted with islands, his map reacted to the moving enemies of the mission.
A coordinated group of six Dinns sortied through the sky 1300 meters away. Their red optics glowed as they readied their assault machine guns.
"Crap," he muttered, grabbing his stungle rifle from his back and aimed down its center. "I hope this new rifle pays its dues today." And with a squeeze of the trigger, a pink beam bolted from its barrel towards the Dinns.
Like a true group of veterans, they all maneuvered out of its predictable path.
"Crap, guess there's a reason why I needed a team."