No respawns. No second chances. No picking himself up and dusting himself off.

Just like the end of Fisticuffs, Nic was cordoned off from the rest of his squad, floating in a black abyss while they fought for the future of Team Scarlet. At least the pain was gone. The echo of it, and the resultant tenseness in his muscles remained. But at least the pain was gone.

The holographic message hovered before Nic’s disembodied eyes, casting an eerie glow that barely explored the vast depth of the infinite shadow around him. It reminded him of an aquatic animal he’d learned about in his Earth Studies class. That fish... That fish... Anglerfish, he remembered. You would think they could have designed a little lobby for us. A virtual waiting room or something. Strangely, the pulse-pounding anxiety that had filled him up to this moment was inexplicably absent from him now.

All that was left was a quiet little wish in his heart. Of course he still wanted his squadmates to succeed. He hoped that everything that led them to this tiebreaker round was not in vain—their Archerous drills increasing their aim, their taking turns as leaders, and not least of all Nic’s temporary passing of the torch to Maqsud. At the start of all this, Max was the last person Nic would have expected he’d put in this position—and yet Max was the one leading Team Scarlet now in his absence.

“It’s how you lead them.” Joe’s voice echoed in his head. Well, Joe, I’ve led them as best as I could in the time I’ve had with them. I tried to make us all stronger. Smarter. A better squad. I even tried to make leaders out of my squadmates, to make them believe in themselves that much more. I guess sometimes it’s just not in the cards. I may not be a kid anymore, but I think I have a lot of growing up left to do. I can’t be too hard on myself if I wasn’t a perfect leader at 18. The prospect of labor reassignment on Ayrus resurfaced in the back of his mind; it was not the looming panic it had been before, but rather a subtle dread, a queasiness. He still didn’t think he could bear it when the time came; but he felt confident he would still bear it anyway, just like everything else.

This was all assuming that the four surviving members of Team Scarlet lost this round of Precision. For all he knew, they could have been dominating out there. He considered the flip side—one lone Scarlet fighter creeping across the battlefield, gun trembling in their hands, until they took a wrong step and took a bullet through the virtual brain like he did. He wished there was something he could do; with his incoming and outgoing comms both disabled, he couldn’t even listen in on them or offer words of encouragement.

There was a certain sort of peace that came with that knowledge. I only panic when there’s hope, he realized. I only panic when there’s something left that I can do. Now there’s absolutely nothing I can do. Whatever happens now... happens. And I can’t change it anymore. It was an exhilarating, freeing, deeply calming thought—one that he’d never had before this moment. Acceptance.

He had no way of telling time in the post-death void. The mode only lasts 30 minutes tops, he remembered. And just as he did so, his helmet came off. The lights of the Simnasium flooded his eyes. He waited for cheers that never came.

His squadmates were stoic. They each looked straight ahead at nothing. Perri took a deep, quivering breath in and let it out in a sigh.

Nic broke the silence since no one else would. “Guys, it’s okay. I’m proud of us. We gave it our all.”

“All right,” Maqsud muttered. “Tell him what happened, all. Just like we discussed when the match ended.”

Nic eyed each of them in turn. Max staring at the floor. Perri with her eyes closed. Jarek sweating. Shanti, however, was smiling—she covered her mouth. Maybe a nervous tic, Nic thought.

Then the floodgates burst open.

“WE WON!” Jarek boomed at the top of his lungs. “We freakin’ WON, man! We did it!” Scarlets 2-5 all jumped out of their SimSuits and crowded around their Squad Leader.

Nic almost didn’t believe them at first; a grin spread across his face at a glacial pace. Their yells of celebration nearly drowned out the reserved voice of RTIFIS announcing: Even with the AI seal of approval, it was only beginning to set in for Nic.

“You really did it,” he said, beaming.

Maqsud gesticulated as he told the story. “Once we pinpointed Team Malachite’s true strategy—thanks to you, I should add—we were able to adjust ours in response. Guns and pickups certainly helped. Would you be surprised if I told you Shanti got a stealth kill in as well?”

“No way!” Nic exclaimed in mock disbelief, and Shanti laughed through her nose.

“I was skeptical at first,” Jarek admitted, “but Max really knew how to pull us together after all!”

Nic nodded at Scarlet 4 with a proud smile. “I guess I made the right choice for the round, then. Glad to hear it.”

Everyone was showing their teeth in big, delirious smiles—even Shanti, although hers were showing the least. Nic could smell everyone’s collective sweat from three rounds of vigorous physical activity wrapped tightly in a gel-bearing suit. The holo-UI in the corner of the Simnasium displayed confirmation of their victory. It felt like a dream he was having.

A few minutes later, he noticed that Perri was crying. Not sobbing—teary-eyed more than anything.

“What’s wrong, Perri?” Maqsud asked with a hand on her shoulder.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she reassured him, fanning her eyes. “Nothing. It’s just... I was afraid that this was going to be our last Wargame together. That we’d never see each other again after this. I just didn’t want to lose everyone, you know?”

“I know,” Nic answered truthfully. He gathered everyone into a group huddle. “I know what you mean, Perri. But Team Scarlet, you pulled through like true champions today. We all know what that means—we’re still in it to win it. One loss, followed by a win, means we’d have to lose two matches in a row to be disqualified now. But I don’t think that’ll happen. I think we’re in this for the long haul now! The five of us are going to be cruising the galaxy together for a long, long time.”

We won. We really won. He was even giddier in the privacy of his own mind, long after the match was over and even after Hansen Dyne sent a beacon to congratulate them. We won. We’re all 50,000 credits richer now! Not enough to retire if we get disqualified—not yet. But that won’t happen. We’re going to keep getting better all the time, just like we have been.

He imagined his parents—his mother, or the bits and pieces he remembered of her, and his father, the parent he’d never met, forever just a silhouette in his mind. How proud they would be of him if they could see him now. The future of Planet Didumos, the colony that would be built here one day—it would exist in the shadow of Team Scarlet’s victory forever.

And Didumos was only the beginning.

Look out, galaxy! Team Scarlet is just getting started!