A Visitor to the Future - 100 - Team Moss in the Fog
As we made our way over to the arena, we mulled over the name of the opposing team, which like the Poindexters had appeared on the wall of our team area - Heavy Metal.
"There's always the chance that the name is ironic," said Antonia, "Just like the Sneaky Sneaks. It's just a shame that we couldn't find out anything about them from any of the other teams we talked with."
"Even if we had, that's not particularly trustworthy!" replied Sarkona, "Everyone has seemed honest so far, but there has to be at least one team trading unreliable information. And if another team shares that, well, it could spread really far. Whatever the case, though, you should expect a different sort of fight to last time."
We made our way into the arena, which was a sharp contrast to the rocky conditions of last time. It was an almost entirely smooth surface made of some sort of pale blue polymer, which stretched off into the distance at a slight incline to the right. The interesting thing about the area was the low-lying mist which sat above the surface, obscuring vision beyond twenty metres. It was like looking across a field on a foggy day.
Tungsten took a seat next to me, but he never stopped gazing out of the window in front, trying to pick out details in the fog. "Hmm. Impaired vision. Seems fairly basic. Perhaps a little too basic for the second round. Any ideas, Gatecrash?"
"A few," came the reply, "Mostly, let's just keep our wits about us! Though we are only in the early rounds. Maybe it is only the fog?"
Tungsten shook his head, "There's something about the floor which is familiar, but it escapes me for the moment," said Tungsten, "We'll just have to figure it out as we go. Ready to link?"
The connection solidly made, I found myself in control of my Proxy. Tungsten flexed his repaired right shoulder next to me as I checked for any signs of sluggishness in my Proxy's responses. Thankfully everything seemed good. But from the taller vantage point of my Proxy, the fog seemed a lot more imposing - like it had come in closer. The area immediately beyond myself and my teammates was a mystery.
The announcer's voice seemed omnipresent in the fog, reverberating around what I assumed were the distant walls of the area. "Welcome back, teams and spectators!" the voice said happily, "In this, match number two, we have Heavy Metal in fetching midnight chrome and Overgrown with Moss in the lovely verdant green! We'll be keeping this one interesting for our teams, as the condition for this match is Foggy Shore! Teams, good luck, have fun, and may the most resilient stand victorious! Begin!"
We agreed to take things slowly this time around, with Gatecrash leading the way towards the right, each of us watching a third of our immediate perimeter. Picking up speed in an environment of low visibility could lead to us running face-first into our opponents.
"Foggy Shore..." said Tungsten as we crept forward, "Why Shore? There must be something to that."
We kept moving forwards, trying to minimize the noise as our Proxies moved through the fog, our sphere of visibility remaining fixed to us, beyond the occasional thicker wisp of steam which crept across our vision. It was hard to tell how much ground we'd covered without any visual reference.
Gatecrash suddenly waved for us to get down, and we crouched behind them. Their voice quiet as they spoke, which strictly unnecessary as our voices were contained to the control box near the edge of the area, but did nicely convey the fact that Gatecrash thought our opponents were close.
"I can hear them," whispered Gatecrash, "Fifty metres that way. Creeping forward slowly. Footfalls seem fairly loud."
"I don't hear them," said Tungsten, speaking at half his usual volume, "But I trust you. Are you thinking that the name Heavy Metal is literal, after all?"
"Seems like it," replied Gatecrash, "I can hear loose armour plates clanking too, metal on metal. Yeah, definitely an apt name."
I was just about to ask whether we should attack with the element of surprise when something gently contacted my Proxy's left foot. I instinctively flinched, raising the leg slightly and balancing on my right leg. It was only as I looked that I realized what had touched me - water. A tiny stream of water was flowing from the left side of the area, barely but evenly spreading out over the surface.
"Uh, do you both feel that?" I said, pointing to the water.
Tungsten's Proxy looked over the surrounding area, then behind him to the right side of the area. The water was definitely spreading from one side to the other. And now that I looked towards the edge of our visible radius, I could see that it was growing - the fog was lifting gradually.
"Foggy Shore," said Gatecrash, connecting the dots, "There are waves on shorelines."
"And it looks like the tide is starting to come in," said Tungsten, "We'd best hurry."
"So we strike first?" I asked, "Try not to get separated too?"
Tungsten nodded. "Say the word when, Gatecrash, see if you can catch them when their backs are turned."
We followed the distant team at Gatecrash's instructions, trying to gradually close the distance without alerting them. Even within the minute that we continued to follow them, though, the tiny trickle of waves grew in volume and before I knew it we were creeping forward in a few centimetres of water, tiny splashes of water accompanying each footstep.
Gatecrash held up a hand for us to stop, and pointed out where they thought the three opposing Proxies were. "Thirty metres out. That's as good as we're going to get!" they said, "Go!"
All subterfuge was forgotten in an instant as we lurched forward into a full sprint, the surface at the bottom of the fog flying by. Our movement caused audible splashes in the growing waves, but this was as good a chance as we'd get, and I was not going to waste it. The fog parted, and I saw my target before me, still the in process of wheeling around to face me. The Proxy was layered with armour like a tank, blocky shapes layered across a humanoid frame of similar height to my own. In an instant I decided my best angle of attack and leaned forward, pulling in my right shoulder and using my left arm to support my right elbow. A classic shoulder barge.
It was the right play. It was difficult to move quickly and react with how dense Proxies were - a problem made worse by all the armour my opponent had. They were unable to dodge me. I contacted their torso with my right upper arm and shoulder, pushing full force into the body and carrying us both forward a few metres.
The momentum transferred, I skidded to a halt. My opponent was not so lucky, having been hit from the front and unable to recover. They staggered backwards, arms flailing but unable to help with balance, and fell over backwards to the ground, armour plates scratching the ground and causing a spray of water to joining the now-lifting mist as it came to a halt.
I was about to move forward to continue to assault, when my opponent did something unexpected. The Proxy's hips and legs rotated one-hundred and eighty degrees, allowing them to scramble into a weird, almost-seated position, and then suddenly, to push off the floor, and pick itself up off the ground.
I looked at my opponent's heavily dented front plating and grinned with satisfaction. Even though I'd scored the first hit - and a significant one at that - this wasn't over yet.