The Gizmo- The Heroes Quest

Chapter 1- Sniper's Dimension- The Master League Finals

A dust storm rages in the sky. "Its hard to aim now", I mutter under my breath. Lowering my sniper rifle, I sprint to the closest shelter in sight.

A small house visible within my range of vision of three hundred meters, I increase my pace towards it. Being six feet tall with long legs gave me a slight advantage in agility but my blue wavy hair always blew away my cover.

About hundred meters away, I stop, noticing another sniper hiding behind a pillar towards my right. My shoulders tense and my lips pull into a frown.

"Fifty meters, Three O'clock...", I mumble, dodging nimbly upon hearing a gunshot. Due to my accuracy in aiming and a mind that visualizes my surroundings in the form of numbers, I was famously known as "Nuke, The Eagle Eyed"

I lift my sniper gun and aim for the figure sprinting to a pillar in view.

The pillar being narrow, only has space for a single man to hide behind. With my rifle pointing at the pillar, I make a mad dash towards the house. The man moves away from the pillar, still aiming at me.

Based on the direction his rifle is pointing, I assume he would be aiming for my shoulder which would make me glitch and make me drop my gun.

Just as he pulls the trigger, I jump and slide under a car, before aiming for his head and pulling the trigger. A loud heavy metal sound reverberates through the air and the man drops dead, before disappearing in a cloud of pixels. My heart still pounding in my chest and adrenaline still coursing through my veins, I give a slight sigh. "Popularity does make one susceptible to innumerable predators" I crib, getting back onto my feet.

The tournament only had one main objective, kill the other snipers in the match and aim for the top. And the losers dissappear after being shot and are striked off from the tournament bracket.

Upon reaching the front door of the house, I equip my handgun and kick the door open. The only sound was that of the raging storm outside and the flicking of a torch switch. I clench and unclench my fists in an attempt to calm my nerves.

As the room in front of me gets illuminated, I notice it is a small two-floor house with the staircase running from the exterior side of the house. The entrance is connected to a small room and there are three doors which lead to other rooms of equal size. The floor and roof are constructed from wood, with the wood worn and the walls made of cement.

I take out my minimap. The minimap was added to my inventory just before the match began. It's a small device which gives you a three dimensional view of the battlefield. It also shows the location of all remaining players and hidden toolboxes nearby.

The minimap can only be used in specific locations like the house I am in right now and it doesn't show the exact location of other players. A player can only be spotted when they are out in the open. It also shows the number of players remaining.

Apparently, there were about four players out of forty-six which meant forty-two players had been eliminated so far since the start. The map did not show the location of the surviving players, meaning they were all in hiding. I close the minimap and walk towards the cracked window. The storm had intensified, the dust particles causing the battlefield to be shrouded with it, causing poorer vision. Dark clouds overhead made it all the more darker. It suited the mood right now. Tense. Nerve wracking.

I flinch upon hearing the creak of the door at the entrance, immediately turning off my torch and blending into the darkness. A beefy man barges in, a revolver in his hand. In a moment, my dagger digs into the nape of the burly man's neck. He manages to look at me, stunned, before falling to the ground, his body bursting into a shattered pixels before he could hit the ground.

I close the door once more and sigh looking at the spot where his body once stood.

Then, checking the minimap for any toolbox within my area, it pins the house I'm in right now. I start searching for it, searching every nook and cranny, these toolboxes were sometimes in the unlikeliest places.

I find a trap door, and beneath it sat a tiny steel box. Opening the box to find a hand grenade, extra ammo and a medikit, I slip them into my inventory before heading to the living room.

Suddenly, the glass shatters, a bullet grazing my cheek before embedding itself into the wall behind me. The cut may have been shallow, but it still damaged my health. My eyebrows furrow, one raised higher than the other. "How was I discovered? And how was the player able to fire the shot with such accuracy in a dust storm!"

From my position, I gaze out the window the shot had been fired. After trying to move, the realisation that my body was paralysed hit me like a ton of bricks. The player must have used a stun bullet! Blood dribbles down my cheek, the graze burning into my skin.

I could suddenly feel the impending danger. The stun bullet must have been used intentionally as the player knew that their shot would have missed because of the storm. The player's next shot might as well penetrate my skull. My efforts to move prove to be in vain. I knew the match would be lost in a few moments. Fear courses through my veins, a cold sweat forming on my brow. All the hairs on my body stand on their ends as a sense of dread overcomes me.

However my will to win spurs me to continue to struggle persistently, shouting, "Why does the match have to end like this when I'm so close?!" a few seconds of struggling later, I stop.

Something strikes my mind. "What's delaying the opponent?" If the player intended to kill me, it would have taken less than a minute to reload his rifle and make a headshot. Something must happened! This is my chance to escape!

A couple of minutes pass and once my body was free from the paralyse I take out my minimap to check for any nearby players. There were none. A wave of relief washes over me, but when I shifted my eyes to the number of surviving players left, my jaw drops, eyes widening.

I whisper to myself, "Seriously? There's only two players remaining..." That has to be the only reason why the player didn't shot me at that very moment. The player was shot down by another person. My face breaks out into a delighted grin, thankful that I have one more chance to claim the top spot.

I look through the shattered window. The sky had cleared up, a clear beautiful blue sky contrasted with the dark stormy color moments ago. It suited my mood.

I pocket my minimap and get my health back up, reloading my sniper and heading out. This is going to be the last battle of the tournament, and anticipation and adrenaline pumps through my body. My fingers itches for a fight, as do the rest of my body.

I step out of the house and pause. Looking up at the cloudless blue sky, remaining grains of sand blown by the gentle breeze caressing my cheeks, my mouth curled upwards.

"This is going to be the final showdown!"