A gathering of Players and NPCs had formed in and around an old, abandoned group of buildings near a lakeside. At first, when they all met up, they had been on edge and nearly turned on each other, but their shared fear and animosity towards a certain Player and his War Suit managed to unite them in a common cause. However, there were two among their number that were not there to help the roughly twenty people there (not counting themselves).

Yep, the Champion Cheaters were there, in broad daylight, pretending like they, too, were victims. Due to the high stress that everyone there was experiencing, their flimsy narratives that often contradicted themselves were overlooked, which let them weasel their way deeper into the group.

It should be painfully obvious as to what those two cheating bastards wanted to do, but if it really needs to be spelled out, then it shall be. For those who couldn’t make a correct guess, the cheating NPCs intended to take control of this gaggle of scared adults and lead them on a series of misadventures that would, gradually, see their numbers reduced to a point where they were sure to be easy prey for the Champions.

As they were now, they couldn’t count on the backdoor from the IFF tags, and so their biggest asset, and that which had seen them win time and time again with minimal damage, was now a potential liability. Mind you, they could try and use it, but there was always the risk that what Axton and a few others had done was now being implemented by dozens, if not hundreds, if not thousands of others.

Such a cheap and easy cheat would not work for much longer, if at all, and as a result, the ‘Champions’ were realizing just how rusty and just how utterly unskilled they really were. They needed to twist the odds in their favor in another cheap and unfair way, and leading these terrified idiots along and using them as ‘meat’ shields was a good way to cheat without cheating.

…

“God damn it…” mumbled an NPC pilot as she shivered uncontrollably. “Fog… it’s never good when fog rolls in….”

“Incorrect.” Replied the gruffer of the two Champions in his near monotone and utterly stoically spartan voice. “Fog is a natural weather event, and therefore has no ability to be either ‘good’ or ‘bad’. It merely is, and is, therefore, unbiased.”

“Have… have you never seen a horror movie?” Asked a Player.

“Horror Movies are fiction, and have no grounding in reality. They provide nothing in terms of valuable information, and are therefore useless. Most, if not all works of fiction, whether historical or not, are purely fiction, and do not reflect reality. As a result, they are to be ignored.”

The Players and NPCs looked at each other through their internal party viewscreens, all sharing looks that showed how they marveled at the sheer, unflinching adherence to fact and logic that this utterly unimaginative brick of a man was possessed of. And no, that was not a compliment, by the way. They were simply astounded at the dullness and ‘squareness’ of this so-called ‘Peoples Champion’, and that was that.

“A~~~~nyway, we don’t need to fear anything in this fog.” Insisted the more jerkish of the two Champions. Like his compatriot, he had refused to show his face either in the open or on camera, so the people around had no idea what he or his bodyguard looked like under all of that metal and whatnot. “If anything, we have the advantage. Nobody is gonna attack in weather like this, so don’t be afraid. I told you that I’d lead you to the end, and I mean that. None of you will fall…”

The jerk then turned off his mic for a bit and added, “unless I want you to, that is… hehehehe!” before turning his mic on again. “Oh, sorry!” he yelled, “I accidentally hit my mic again!”

“No problem. It’s good to have the Champions on our side. Maybe that monster will steer clear of us now….”

“You idiot!” yelled another of the group. “NEVER SAY STUFF LIKE THAT!”

“There is truth to his words. There are no monsters that can threaten us.” Added the gruff Champion, which only added fuel to the fire.

“That is exactly what you don’t say in a horror movie! He’ll find us for sure, now!”

“In this fog?” remarked the jerkish Champion. “I find that unlikely at best!”

Despite their insistence that nothing was about to go wrong, the two Champions (and the other 20-ish people that made up this group) neglected to remember that Axton, Thomas, and their two War Suits were not the only threat wandering around in the growing darkness.

The sound of an old warhorn echoed out amidst the darkening foggy night.

“HE’S HERE! HE’S FUCKING HERE! I CALLED IT! RUN!”

“No, stand your ground! He can’t kill us all!”

“Well, I ain’t sticking around to find out!”

A few War Suits nearly broke off from the pack, but they regained their composure faster than they themselves expected when, from the foggy darkness, a number of War Suits emerged slowly. The issue was that none of these War Suits were Franken, nor were they Spider-Can, instead they were the remnants of the notoriously roleplay-heavy Company, ‘Kurds and Wei’.

Their machines had obviously seen better days, though the damage that they had sustained was mostly from violent fauna and occasionally flora rather than other War Suits, though a few marks where shells had impacted or other weapons had affected them still remained.

“Oh, thank God… I thought it was him, but it’s just these clowns.”

“And they’re weakened!”

“Let’s let off some steam, eh?”

The twenty-ish War Suits that followed the two Champions walked forward menacingly, but the opposing Company stood firm.

“For Lord Cao Cao!”

“For our Great Land!”

“Charge!”

…

The two Champions watched as the gaggle of ‘morons’ tore themselves apart. Both sides showed no mercy, and neither side seemed to expect any from the other, and that was fine for both of them.

“Heh… heheh… Morons.”

“They are rather foolish, indeed. A wiser move would have been to use tactics and strategy, but they are wading into melee combat despite their weapons mostly being ranged, and they are trying to fight at range despite their weapons being focused towards close-quarters combat.”

“But we had something to do with that, heh?”

“Hmm!”

The two watched with amusement for a while before their alarms inside their Suits blared to life.

“What the fuck?! From behind?!”

“Indeed, foul knave!”

An ornate War Suit that had obviously seen no small amount of combat rushed the two Champions from behind as another War Suit followed behind it wielding a massive curved blade.

“You will pay dearly for your deceptions and malice! So says the true ruler of China, Lord Cao Cao!”

“And this sentiment is echoed by the great and illustrious Saladin! Today, you both shall fall!”

“We’ll see about that!” laughed the jerkish Champion. “Do the thing!”

The War Suit piloted by the one bearing the Player Name of Cao Cao locked up for a moment before swinging around to nearly cut down the War Suit piloted by the man pretending to be an over-the-top Saladin.

“What?! No! This is-!”

“Yeah!” yelled the jerkishly voiced Champion. “Now it’s three on one! Ready to die, Outworlder?!”