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September 2nd, 2019

"Burotgor, are you in range?" 

The base was surrounded, there wasn't any time. He had to detonate the bomb. 

"Nah, but I have troops surrounding me everywhere. I'm at the base, I can take everyone down with me when you give the signal." 

"What signal?" 

"The hand cannon I got for you back at base, fire that in the air three times so I know you're serious." 

"Wait dude, are you sure?" 

"Yeah, don't worry, I'll be fine." 

"Oh shit...goddamn..." 

"I said don't worry about me, just-" 

"No, it's not that, your mic's laggin' out real fuckin bad dude." 

"...fuck.." 

Morgan Gleeson turned his attention from his monitor in front of him to the WiFi bars in the corner of the screen, revealing the limited service he was receiving. He turned on his phone hotspot in hopes of ridding himself of this unfortunate lag, but the words of his friends were slowly becoming a mess of erratic noises. Sweat began to leak down Morgan's caramel hair like an ocean, lightly dripping down his cheeks as the game went on. Dark brown eyes scanned the room like a treasure map, looking for anything to delay the inevitable encounter further. His gamer tag, Burotgor, was printed on the back of his character, faded red spray paint permanently revealing his identity. 

Even though Morgan preferred to hold a leadership position, he was quite an effective soldier and perhaps the best one on the team. "Burotgor" was a name feared across the Denver sector of Armed Reaver, the bestselling shooter for two consecutive years. He chose the name partly because his own wasn't sufficient in setting the appropriate amount of intimidation into opponents. His initial tag, Gleeson98, only received laughs and giggles from enemies and allies alike. 

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

Three consecutive gunshots could only mean one thing, the bomb was ready to detonate. Morgan pressed a series of buttons on his controller to activate the explosive, prompting a red lever to emerge from the metallic interior. His finger hovered over the left trigger which would annihilate everything around him, all the while noises outside grew louder and more aggressive. 

"Burotgor, I'm dead, did you set it off yet?" asked Gleaming Gold, the leader of the squadron and the hand cannon's owner. Morgan shook his head rapidly, but didn't say anything, waiting for the right opportunity to do so. When he saw the door handle shake, his finger slammed down on the trigger, knowing that the enemy was mere milliseconds away from storming the base. Morgan removed his headphones and threw his controller lightly on the desk in front of him, pumping his fist in the air to celebrate a close victory. 

"Let's g-," he started, preemptively smiling before staring wide eyed at the screen that displayed a rather disturbing message. 

YOU DIED

"W-what?" he stammered, harshly placing his headphones back on in frustration and confusion. When he set them on his ears, Morgan was greeted to Gleaming Gold shouting that the bomb never even went off.