Firestorm Online
Chapter 1:Yet another death...
Concrete turned to dust under the heavy gunfire.
"Dex! We're surrounded, throw your utility and get the fuck out of there! I'll provide covering- "
The man shouting had his head blown apart by a large calibre sniper rifle.
I guess he must have thought he was safe behind that sheet metal…
The thing that made the game unique was that it relied entirely on your own skills, if you were fast in real life you were fast in game. If you knew close combat in real life you could throw a few punches in game. For this reason the top competitive teams were mostly made up of soldiers and mercenaries, both retired and active duty.
"FUCKING BULLSHIT!"
A second teammate had just enough time to scream out before a grenade scattered his corpse across a nearby wall.
FO was a 5v5 competitive game, each team had certain objectives to fulfil within the time limits of the match. These objectives could range from rescuing a hostage to planting a bomb. There were a total of 4 game-modes: Hostage rescue, Bombsite, Heist and Assassination. One team has to complete the assigned objective while the other team has to prevent their success at all costs.
I inched my way towards the edge of the cargo container, the bombsite was only 10 yards away but the sniper watching the gap was making it feel like a mile long runway. The bombsite itself consisted of a couple weapons crates filled with the latest gear, sadly none of that gear was available for use otherwise I might have had a few more options.
'I've got no chance, I guess an all or nothing charge towards the objective is better than nothing…'
I tensed up ready to make a mad dash, just as my legs start moving my vision turned black.
'Fuck…'
The kill-cam showed pistol wielding opponent had flanked me and put a bullet in my skull, that ended the game.
I removed the headset and headed straight to my bed.
'I really suck at this game…'
"Dex! We're surrounded, throw your utility and get the fuck out of there! I'll provide covering- "
The man shouting had his head blown apart by a large calibre sniper rifle.
I guess he must have thought he was safe behind that sheet metal…
The thing that made the game unique was that it relied entirely on your own skills, if you were fast in real life you were fast in game. If you knew close combat in real life you could throw a few punches in game. For this reason the top competitive teams were mostly made up of soldiers and mercenaries, both retired and active duty.
"FUCKING BULLSHIT!"
A second teammate had just enough time to scream out before a grenade scattered his corpse across a nearby wall.
FO was a 5v5 competitive game, each team had certain objectives to fulfil within the time limits of the match. These objectives could range from rescuing a hostage to planting a bomb. There were a total of 4 game-modes: Hostage rescue, Bombsite, Heist and Assassination. One team has to complete the assigned objective while the other team has to prevent their success at all costs.
I inched my way towards the edge of the cargo container, the bombsite was only 10 yards away but the sniper watching the gap was making it feel like a mile long runway. The bombsite itself consisted of a couple weapons crates filled with the latest gear, sadly none of that gear was available for use otherwise I might have had a few more options.
'I've got no chance, I guess an all or nothing charge towards the objective is better than nothing…'
I tensed up ready to make a mad dash, just as my legs start moving my vision turned black.
'Fuck…'
The kill-cam showed pistol wielding opponent had flanked me and put a bullet in my skull, that ended the game.
I removed the headset and headed straight to my bed.
'I really suck at this game…'
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