Team Deathmatch

The Team

There's a reason why teams do well together. It's because they all want the same thing.

-James Woodrow, The New Yorker, 2025

After all the cheering had died down, the speakers blared another announcement from the holographic Woodrow that was on stage. "Thank you to everyone who came. You all performed marvellously. As for Mr. Eastman, would you mind coming up to the stage please?" Everyone clapped for me as I walked up to the front, while I kept my head down.

I walked up a set of stairs onto the stage, and stood next to the vision of Woodrow. He stared at me, and even though he wasn't real, I could still see a very human glint of mischief in his eyes, like he knew something I didn't, and he couldn't wait for me to find out. Then, the hologram looked back at the audience, and I snapped back to reality. "As for the rest of you, don't think you'll be going home empty-handed. As of right now, all of you have been signed up for a free subscription to every Horizon game that will ever be released!" The room erupted into a flurry of cheers and "Hell yeahs!" at this.

As they were celebrating, two people in suits, one man and one woman, walked out onto the stage, and right up to me. The woman put her hand on my shoulder, making me flinch a little bit. She turned to look at me while the man spoke into an earpiece. "Hello, Mr. Eastman. If you could come with us please." I nodded, and walked off the stage with them while the hologram of Woodrow waved to the crowd.

They walked me through corridors of backstage technicians and stage hands, then to another elevator with black doors, like the one from the lobby. The woman swiped her card, and the doors opened. As we got in, I was much more nervous than last time. Not knowing what to expect, and the sensory overload of the game room was too much for me. I started to breathe heavily, and I gripped the bars on the back of the elevator tightly, my knuckles white. The man must have noticed, because he turned to me with a slightly worried look on his face. "Are you alright?" I looked back at him, then gave the most confident nod I could muster, clicking away at my cube in my pocket.

The elevator went upwards, and did so for a long time, until we finally stopped after a few minutes at what I assumed was a very high floor. The doors opened, and I saw several office workers walking by, several of them in similar suits to the people who had brought me to the elevator. Suddenly, I felt incredibly underdressed in my ratty black hoodie and jeans. The woman was already out of the elevator, and motioned her head. "This way."

I walked with the two of them down a carpeted hall with wooden walls, covered with the Horizon logo, as well as photos and newspaper clippings of notable moments in the company's history. I saw the unveiling of the Optik at E3, the first ever Horizon HQ building opening, and even a picture of James Woodrow graduating from MIT. It was a bit egotistical, but still fascinating.

We finally reached the end of the hall, and the man and woman stood in front of a frosted glass door with a metal handle, with the name Leland Powell stencilled on the top. My eyes widened, and I looked at them. The woman politely smiled and motioned to the door. "Go ahead. He's expecting you." I walked forwards towards the door, and gripped the handle. I steeled myself, and pushed the door open.

I saw a black man with a bald head, wearing a dark blue three-piece suit and red tie, sitting down at the desk and writing something down on a piece of paper. As I opened the door, he looked up at me, and gave a friendly smile. "Ah. You must be Samuel. Please, come in." I nodded and walked in, closing the door behind me. My heart was beating a million miles a minute. I was in the same room as Leland Powell.