Interests, Positive And Negative

A sword hovered in the air and swung about. Curving through the air it touched several orbs with its sharp edge, each one making a chime as it shattered to pieces upon contact. Controlled by a wisp of Qi commanded by two raised fingers it moved with frightening accuracy. As if following a predetermined line.

A mouse stopped moving the moment the final orb shattered. A score then appeared on the screen after a short pause.

"Impressive, you're not top for no reason."

"Let's not praise me too much.", a dazzling handsome man stared at the score.

The numbers 764 were on the screen, the digits of the AIM rating. This particular test was designed towards accuracy, with tools given by Fractured Worlds. It had its difference from the personalized programs of the Pros, the main benefit being that in this test you could actually control your character. 

Originally designed to help players with aiming their Skills, it quickly became a mainstream test for Pros when testing different builds. Miniscule differences in weapons could make a difference, and such changes would need to be thoroughly tested. The shortcomings of this tool was that it failed to point out mistakes or explain the score. Leaving it up to the player to find out how and where to improve.

"Bothered by the rumor?"

"Is it a rumor?"

"It's. . . true. A kid named Cole scored that seven-hundred-eighty-nine. But that was on the program, it's harder to score as high on this testing."

"He scored that high while giving the class a lecture. If he took it seriously, could he score higher?"

"I doubt it. It might be a few points in difference."

As the handsome man continued to stare at the screen silently the other sighed, "He's supposedly fighting in the camp rankings. If you wanted to gauge him yourself."

"The camp rankings hmm? Alright."

"So you were curious."

"Of course, a potential rival? I wonder, is he confident? Arrogant? Humble?"

"Does it matter?"

"To satisfy my curiosity, yes."

. . .

At the dorms:

"Sol!! They're on my ass! Where are you?!"

"You're the one who thought it'd be a good idea to kite them over there!"

"Oh forgive me for not predicting a respawn!! There's six of them and an Elite! I'm just a Gunner I'm not built for this!!!"

Thrusters kicked up a notch as Sol accelerated across the ruined soil. Slamming against one of the mobs he quickly utilized Mini Artillery to gather another two. Rapidly retreating backwards he drew them farther away, much to the displeasure of Nimin, "Just three??"

"It's all I can handle confidently!"

Bullets flew across the fields embedding themselves into the much larger Elite monster. Performing several rolls backwards Nimin avoided taking damage at unsustainable cost of stamina. Once gaining a decent amount of distance he turned tail and ran.

Sol was in the process of dealing damage to one of the mobs when he frowned, "Wait. . . are you leading them towards me?!"

". . . No."

"You liar! They're right there!!"

"It was the safest route."

"You suck!"

"No name calling!", Nimin scolded while he controlled Critical Shot to throw a grenade.

It exploded after being shot, making one of the mobs lurch to the side making contact with Sol. This caused Raging Torch to take a step to the side, bumping into a different mob. The damage from the contact had out performed the miniscule damage Critical Shot had done originally. Thus moving the aggro to Sol, making him deal with four mobs in total.

"What the hell man!!"

"I am dealing with the Elite! Take just one more yeah?"

Sol grumbled as he furrowed his brow, being forced to focus further to not be overwhelmed. Nimin looked over from his laptop to Sol's, and after watching for just a few seconds silently returned his focus to his own. Bullets began to fire at a faster rate as Nimin picked up the pace himself. Critical Shot's hands almost seemed like a bug as they constantly glitched. 

In a close end to combat Sol managed to finish his group of mobs the moment his Mecha suit ran out of power. Turning towards Nimin he watched in silent awe. Critical Shot always seemed to move just barely out of range, taking the last possible step to dodge the mobs and their predictable attacks. Being able to dodge attacks from the AI was nothing special, any player who put the time into Fractured Worlds was capable of this. It was how Nimin never fail to make it seem like the mobs were missing their attacks. 

These last moment dodges allowed Nimin to capitalize on dealing damage. Taking advantage of the brief moments the mobs paused after attacking to reload. Dancing with an almost choreographed accuracy Nimin maintained an almost untouched HP bar.

Until there was a third party.

Boom-!

A ball of water splashed in the middle of Nimin and his group of mobs. The attack was sudden and broke his tempo, the Elemental Bomb's large AOE had given him minor stun. Elites don't take stun when getting hit, except from certain moves--the Elemental Bomb not being one--, which meant its attack continued. This Elite, looking like a mutant bear, tore its claws through Critical Shot and sent him rolling through the ruined soil.

Nimin had two thoughts. First was the exception timing of the attack. Since he hadn't noticed the assailant before the Elemental Bomb he was unable to tell if it was intentional. If it was intentional, he was willing to praise it. If not, then it was a stroke of bad luck for him.

His second though he voiced almost immediately, "Bastard!"

Sol was quick to fire back, "No name calling."

"Right, of course.", Nimin quickly took the lecture in stride as he recovered. Flipping around he quickly spotted the Techmancer and fired a shot without hesitation.

Very faintly a voice called out in shock, "Fuck! Does this guy have aimbot?!"

The barrels of the colts began to fire towards the Techmancer. Maintaining a certain pace Nimin was able to avoid the attacks of the mobs, but not the Elite. Another swipe of its powerful claws arced towards Critical Shot, only to hit air as Nimin rolled away. 

Sol's fingers quickly recorded the moment for study as he asked, "How could you tell?"

"Aggro range. Calculate its speed and range and you can predict when the Elite reaches you and its attack. Granted, it was a bit of a gamble on which attack it did. I had about one-fourth of a chance of that roll failing. There's two attacks that would've hit me."

"Why take the gamble then?"

"It's easier this way."

The Techmancer raised their staff, and it's cylinder spun to a click. A vial rapidly shattered as a wall of water rose from the ground to stop the flurry of bullets. Nimin could faintly hear the sound of the vial shattering and frowned, "It's a level 65, he has {Vial Shatter}."

Sol frowned, "Damn, another? Why is it when I'm with you all the high levels come flocking over?"

"I too would like to know!"

Critical Shot held a grenade and Nimin controlled his avatar to throw it. It flew through the air but there was no chance of it getting near the Elemental Wall. Raising the colt Critical Shot began to fire rapidly. Bullets hitting the edge of the grenade knocking it farther and faster towards the wall. Just as it almost reached the wall a bullet hit the grenade in the center causing it to explode.

"Damn! I almost had that.", Nimin stuck a tongue out in frustration.

"Did you just try Air Carrying that grenade?"

"I did, it did not work.", Nimin pouted as he rolled to dodge another attack. 

"That distance is something Pros would struggle with!"

"And I'm aiming higher than that, I still have a lot of practice. A shame I have to focus on leveling!"

"Higher than that. . . ?"

A ball of water flung over the Elemental Wall and splashed in front of Critical Shot, missing entirely. Nimin noted that the place the bomb landed would be a very good guess normally. The Techmancer most likely guessed that the exploded grenade had to have been thrown from somewhere near, and not redirected through bullets. So the bomb was within that predicted range, a shame they hadn't expected Nimin's absurd aim.

Sol wasn't sitting around. The moment he noticed the Techmancer he was circling around a wide berth to pincer the opponent. Yet as he cleared a hill his screen revealed several high leveled players hiding away. His jaw dropped for a few moments before he hollered, "It's a trap!! There's like ten guys by that Techmancer!"

Nimin almost immediately changed direction. Rolling through the Elite and mobs to sprint in the opposite direction, "What the fuck! Is it Collection again?!"

"You can look if you want to, I'm out of here!"

"Don't leave me! I'm being chased by the Elite still!"

"I bet those guys are all level 65, I'm not gonna get my ass kicked for this!"

The Techmancer's wall finally fell apart and he noticed the two running away. Faltering slightly at the unexpected sight he called, "Uh. . . guys?"

"Yeah? Did he die by the Elite?"

"No. . . they're running."

". . ."

". . ."

"Fuck!! Get up and chase them!"