After he was unplugged and the technicians left, Nathan just laid in the pod. He lay there for a while, breathing, blinking. While his eyes were closed, his last wondrous experience inside Bilgewater replayed itself a thousand times over, but faded into disappointing reality whenever he opened them again. Perhaps, and he knew this was a naïve thought, but perhaps Riot could put him back, have pity and allow him to just wander around the environment, to live inside the game for the remaining time…as an insignificant sailor boy, if they must. But eventually, Nathan had to come to terms with the fact that this was nothing but a fantasy. He had his chance and he blew it. Eventually, Nathan climbed out of the pod and onto the floor of reality; the convention centre.

Reality was even more disappointing than he remembered. Regaining control of his actual limbs was a struggle as he paced through the neatly organized platoon of upright VR pods, all of them still occupied. However, other than that and some roaming employees, the expansive conference hall was deserted.

It was bizarre. Years of media conditioned his first thought to be that of apocalypse. Frying-pan-into-fire type shit. Funny thought, but he couldn’t help imagining the sprawling mass of fans that had gathered to watch the Battle Royale commence. Yet now, all that remained was a patchwork of barriers and railings on black linoleum, freshly cleaned and polished. Upon it reflected the hundreds and hundreds of screens; advertisements displaying the Riot logo, its muted LEDs and neon reds striping across every surface. But it can’t have been that long? I was what, maybe twenty minutes in the game. Where is everyone? In this stuffy enclosure lingered the scent of an anticipating crowd, yet they had all suddenly been banished?

His joints -elbows and shoulders and hips- twitching and cracking, Nathan limped towards the exit for some fresh air. Looking ahead, he realized that the other reason the convention seemed so confined was that all the windows had been covered in blackout strips, hanging pleated from the ceiling. Still, as he got closer small gaps of light became more evident -and there were people there!

The last of them being pushed out by a handful of security guards, half-heartedly overseen by a suit.

“Am I about to get kicked, too?” Nathan asked.

The suited employee heard him, turning around so that his metallic Riot badge shone. [Project Manager: Adam Boxes]

“That was quick,” he said, checking his tablet, “Your number?”

Nathan thought he would’ve known. Weren’t they monitoring all this? After chewing his lip a moment, he responded, “Number 100.”

The suit flicked a smile, acknowledging the perfect irony of it, then showed a video on his tablet. It was stupidly fast-forwarded, but Nathan recognised it as the sequence leading to his fall. And death.

“Yup, that’s me. Why so quick, though?”

“Did you not read -You don’t pay attention, do you?”

Nathan shrugged, and the suit sighed, mouthing something that looked suspiciously like ADHD.

“Time is sped up inside the session. 3 times. Three days in real life and seven in the simulation. Obviously, we can’t process all that video quickly without artefacts. It takes time. And you know, you died straight off the bat.”

Thanks for reminding me. “Whatever. Can I get my footage and be on my way? I want to use it for content. Especially the last bit.” If I’m going to be the first one out, I can at least be first to upload videos on it.

The suit sucked into a pout and Nathan took that as acceptance, looking back out the window to see if he could spot anyone from the press. A woman caught his eye -as she used her thick microphone to beat down contenders from her spot- and he waved to her.

“Where are you going?” the suit called, security looking back at the same time.

“Uhh…” Nathan pivoted glances between the suit and each of the half dozen guards. “To catch my premiere interview?”

“For God’s sake,” muttered the suit. He called off security -who returned to sealing off the gaps in the windows with black tape- and leaned in.

“You, Nathan is what it says here, can’t leave. It was in the NDA. The thing you signed right before you got in the pod.

“So just stay put, don’t try to leave. You wait, like all the others until the event is over and you most certainly don’t talk to press…”

The suit went on, but Nathan got the message. No leaks, you’re happy with what you got or you’d face big-boy lawyers. The thing was, he already knew he was being naïve. After all, he was the idiot that died first in the debut Bilgewater BR. So the loss of his content -which likely no one was going to watch anyway- and any subsequent clout, didn’t faze him that much.

All the mumbo-jumbo washed over Nathan, and instead he caught on to the fact that the suit’s tablet was filled with the POVs of people still playing. His eyes slid across the majority of it as nothing was really happening, except one that showed the start of a 2v2 on a rope bridge.

“…after all that then, yes, you can have your footage to do with as you please.” The suit jerked his tablet away, hiding all the juicy views. “Were you listening at all?”

Looking back to the pods, Nathan said, “I think you’re about to get two more joining us, so don’t restart the speech just yet.”

“Two more? What—” As the suit flustered about, two of the VR pods hissed steam, opening up to frustrated women. Nathan nodded at them, empathizing, and at the same time comparing their reactions to losing with his own. Sure they were annoyed, but they weren’t mister #100.

The suit laughed. “You got that from a cursory glance at my screen?”

Nathan expected some sort of jab to follow, but the suit instead went quiet. Contemplative as he flicked through his tablet.

“You said you want to make content?” the suit said. No, he didn’t say it, he asked! Even after another sad dose of reality, Nathan’s naivety flew right back, making his eyes water as he anticipated what that meant.

“Perhaps you still can. I’ll provide you with direct access to the current broadcasts and you can begin preparing a video -I think a narrative play by play style commentary might be just the marketing tool we need.”

Nathan pounced onto the suit. He wanted to confirm this was for real; a handshake, agreement, nod, anything.

What he got was a smile and “I’ll make up a contract.”

*

Nathan stabbed CTRL+S and groaned, arcing back into the stand seating. More than 7 hours of gruelling attention and the first part of the competition was done. And so were his notes.

When the video feeds were first re-broadcast behind the arena stage, he was the only one who bothered watching. But as the discounted contestants got sick of walking around with frustration, they soon formed a scattered group of individuals that filled the seats. Some, like Nathan, tried to analyse the flurry of motion, but most cheered and laughed and made the most of an absurd situation. As the day went on though, endurance became a mark of pride. Those who could stand the blistering speeds of the broadcast feed, those who could tune into a frequency that high and not get burnt out, started to garner attention themselves. Of course, it helped if you were already a celebrity -or simply just attractive. Nathan was neither.

He was there from the beginning, unbothered, unremarkable, plugging away on a laptop until finally he found a lull long enough to finish this draft of his video script, complete with timestamps of what to play over it. Now, he thought, he could take a break.

On the first day of the Bilgewater Battle Royale we had plenty of insane action, and to save you from watching a 100 week-long VODs, I, NathanHolupwasdat, am going to give you a MONTAGE!

TLDW: We started off with a cool 1-hundo, but now at the end of a brutal first day, we are left with -by my count – 81!

Here’s some highlights:

We saw an innocent little boy take a diiive to see the sights -that’s me by the way, don’t judge, just like comment and subscribe,

A young pyromaniac in the making made some clever use of Gunpowder, becoming a human rocket!

Two friends, meeting up to ‘bridge’ the gap in starting abilities.

A little light torture. It hurts to look this good -and also have your slaves turn on you.

Someone -who looked quite slick in Jhin’s mask- forgetting to doubletap, then getting immediately punished by another who’s weapon did it for them. Yikes!

And ‘oh, wow’ our boy creating a party of NPCs to carry him through the content, classic Jak!

Some thing’s don’t quite change from the source material, as a trio used a Blitz hook to pluck out three (kinda bullshit) kills before being outplayed by a duo that can (gasp) actually move out of the way…It’s too bad their egos demanded that they 1v1 then and there. Classic ADC mains.

Some kid with really good post-murder hygiene, purposely nerfed himself by refusing an ability -what a Chad!

Brain proved itself over brawn, as a giant mace cannot protect you if you don’t hit your opponent. Sorry, Brazil! Maybe next time!

An old woman who prefers quality over quantity when it comes to cold-blooded killing,

And a young guy in the jungle who got jebaited by an even younger guy. In the jungle.

But here’s my favourite moment:

What started as a sniper lining up a clean kill developed into a soaring dragon punch from above, crashing down through the roof and into a tussle with a ‘Big Daddy’ cosplayer. However, some fella casually enjoying an egg happened to stroll by and showed them a ‘real’ weapon. Unfortunately, even though he was the last man standing, he did not account for the all-metal diving suit to fall and crush his spirit.

That’s five down in one go! What a rush!

I’ve been watching this whole thing live. And yes, that is at the same time amazing but also draining as hell. So until next time, that’s all for my recap of Day 1 of the Bilgewater Battle Royale. Subscribe and hit the bell to tune into the next episode, and to see who comes out the victor in the end!

Reading over it, Nathan felt the high of accomplishment, but also a fatigue level that would ruin any chance of sleep.

And the competition only kept going.

The sun dawned in Bilgewater, radiating orange over the network of different live feeds. Day 2 had started in-game, so, grabbing another energy drink, Nathan forced half of it down and continued to write.