17: Skyscraper of a Nostalgic Past

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POV Seth

Seth hadn't seen a building quite like it before. It was possibly a hundred floors tall, but he had seen taller. Any of the three educational towers at the Academy easily dwarfed the skyscraper.

His squad climbed the stairs leading to an open concrete courtyard. Cement benches outlived the broken decorative street lights, their long shafts bent, warped, and broken, their bulbs shattered. Beyond the building were barren cracked streets, no longer fit for use, and beyond that, the ruined shells of equally tall buildings. Their initial building was the only one that seemed to remain untouched by the devastation. 'What an odd stroke of luck,' Seth pondered as he lifted his gaze up the immaculate building. The casual drift of the clouds high above them reflected in the windows. Too little was known about the incursion to guess at the intent to understand why this building remained untouched.

The air was stale and dry. Despite clouds racing across the sky, the atmosphere was stagnant.

"We're not getting in through here," Esmey reported as she gave the glass doors a solid tug. Erick and Wallace tested the doors themselves. Denial more so than lack of faith.

Faces pressed to the pristine windows; it was impossible to see through to the interior. Steel shutters lined the exterior wall, locking down the building. 'Keeping something out? Or keeping something in?'

The sun was nowhere to be found, despite being broad daylight with no overcast. The lighting conditions suggested that it was midday when it should have been early dawn. He glanced at his timer display in the corner of his visor. They had barely spent five-minutes in the game. The timing made little sense. They had left the Gala not long past curfew, maybe around ten o'clock. They traveled for hours throughout the night, but not long enough to account for midday the following day.

Seth rubbed his wrist. Everything felt off. He couldn't explain the source of his worry, but did his best to hide it from his squad mates.

There was one more thing that he couldn't quite articulate...

"Mr. Obvious says: We'll have to find another way in," Wallace advised.

Seth nodded. "Load up your read-outs," he ordered. It wouldn't have been a surprise if the bulk of his squad had flat out forgotten it existed.

The changing perimeter was something all players were aware of, but rarely needed to plan for it. Only two teams ever made it to the championship game. The rest of the time, the game's boundaries were the massive arena walls. In a zone with no apparent physical guidelines to mark the game zone, their readout was the only tool they could use to avoid accidentally forfeiting.

One by one, they signaled that their basic digital map was active. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't always watch their backs.

Seth loaded the perimeter readout tool. A yellow barrier overlaid real-world visuals through the virtual interface in his helmet. The barrier arched along the courtyard and back the way they had come. "Let's see about an access tunnel. These old buildings had individual transport stations nearby, if not in the building itself. It might be our way in."

Squad VII hadn't given his statement much thought. Seth hadn't considered the dangers of an underground level. The biggest worry in the games was whatever their opposition got up to. If there had been demons on site at some point, they'd have been cleared out by the Red Order. The Gaming Commission would have filed for sanctions that granted them permission to use the site for their game.

The squad returned to their starting position, moving in unison as they watched for their less disciplined enemy.

Seth's visual indicator squawked, warning him they were dangerously close to breaching the game area. Their transport remained parked along the empty ruined road, out of reach. The yellow warning indicator arched along the street, cutting off all options to explore the area, save for a small side street that led into the building. If this path was the only way in, they would encounter the enemy soon.

They walked into the shadow of the building, searching for their point of entry. Up ahead, steel shutters sealed the lower area. Only this time, a car caught fleeing had warped the metal sheets while keeping the car prisoner forever.

The yellow perimeter shrunk behind them, blocking their exit. It was a relief that the enemy could not ambush. The game wouldn't allow it. They must have had a different point of entry, possibly on the other side of the building in the same fashion as the games in the arenas.

The squad inspected the car when they reached it. Some with bored caution, others with the contagious excitement of a history geek. They had seen nothing quite like it. They had heard stories of the old world before the incursion, but no one alive today had ever experienced the wonders of a world without demons.

How many generations had they been under siege? No one knew for sure. But they knew that the established year of incursion date was a lie.

The car was a light gray, four door family vehicle, which had stopped dead at an odd angle. The metal barrier had crushed the vehicle, suggesting that the car had lost control moments before exiting. The passenger door hung ajar, partially broken from its restrictive hinges. The front right of the vehicle was deeply damaged, a sign that it had collided with a wall in its hasty retreat. The tires were shredded.

Hope crawled through the passenger side door and into the driver's seat, promptly fiddling with the controls. "Looks like it might be an early manual electric model," she announced to anyone who wanted to know. "Nope, dead. Can't tell you much more." She opened the glove compartment, grabbed the user manual and stashed it in her bag for future review. She loved tech. The older the better.

"Now's not the time guys," Seth told the enthusiastic members of his team.

His team didn't argue, understanding that their area of play was changing constantly. As soon as the enemy made progress, they might run toward the next active area. Seth noted the longing glances and the silent goodbyes.

"Driver's door is lodged against the wall." Hope peered over the seat. "Looks about the same for the driver's side passenger." She nodded to Gemma, who climbed into the vehicle next to her.

Seth leaned into the car to have a look for himself, hand resting on the roof. Darkness stared back at him through the marred rear window, watching him and his team as they willingly subjected themselves to a tight and unfamiliar space. Seth shuddered.

Gemma reported, "Might be able to get the back door open. Otherwise, we'll need to crawl through the back window."

"It'll be a bit of a squeeze." Hope winked at Gemma, her smile broad and bright.

Gemma grinned. "You callin' me fat, shorty?" Before she could apologize, the bigger man pushed himself through the backseat. In the moments that followed, Gemma fiddled with controls and handles, failing to get the back door to release. He let out a deep heavy sigh and stole a quick glance at the back window.

Gemma kicked at the backdoor. Seth cringed. "Gemma," he warned.

"She's right. There's more than a couple of us who'd struggle to get through that tiny window," Gemma replied as he carried on kicking at the door, slowly dislodging it from its hinges, until it fell off with a loud clatter.

The damage was done. If the enemy was nearby, they were lining up for the attack.

"Move out," Seth ordered. "Keep your lights out. Tuck in near the front of the car." He patted the hood of the car to show what he meant by front. The car wouldn't cover all twelve of them, but it would keep most of them hidden from the initial assault if one was coming.

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