Chapter 61: Survive pt.3
Sitting atop the balcony of Stark Tower, Tony dangled his legs off the edge as he drunkenly wobbled from side to side, watching the chaos unfold below. He hadn't been able to find any of his armors, or any other weapons for that matter, but he had found his liquor cabinet and fully stocked bar, appearing just as it did before the room had a god taken to it like a divine feather duster.
After locking down the building and ensuring that no players had managed to make their way inside, it hadn't taken long for the billionaire to fall back into his old habits. At least there weren't any downsides to excessive drinking here, if you didn't count the scolding he was expecting from Pepper the moment he left VR, that is.
And hadn't that been a major slip-up on his part, Tony mused, tossing a third bottle off the roof as he did so.
It wasn't until he'd downed his first that he realized his stream was still running, something he'd completely forgotten about shortly after arriving in this cruel memory. It was no doubt causing a major dip in his stocks at the moment, what with people seeing that their hero wasn't as invincible as he seemed, but Tony was sure Pepper could handle it like always. He was just lucky he'd managed to shut it off before he got too wasted to care.
The sound of yet another small building crumbling to the ground amidst the explosions of various grenades and rocket launchers, briefly captured his attention, before he settled back into a state of comfortable indifference. It wasn't like he didn't care about winning the tournament anymore, but the comfort of his recently destroyed home had brought about a certain ambivalence towards the whole thing.
This tower was supposed to be his legacy, his eternal memento to all mankind that they now had someone that would watch over them, that kept them safe while they went about their daily lives. Yet, that monument had been shattered, not even a year after its erection.
*Sigh…*
It was with these thoughts that Tony closed himself off to the world. Gunshots cracked through the air and screams echoed off crumbling monoliths of steel and glass, but he paid them all no heed. He simply sat there, watching the chaos with a blank expression, occasionally taking a sip from another bottle.
Only when the sound of approaching footsteps reached his ears, did he eventually stir from his alcoholic quagmire. But by then, it was too late.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••
A few minutes earlier…
•••••••••••••••••••••••••
"Shit! They got Jackson!" Adrian Toomes shouted as he ran, occasionally firing pop-shots behind him. While normally a middle-aged man back in reality, in Halo, his avatar looked more like a copy of Jean-Claude Van Damme ripped straight out of Bloodsport.
"Hurry up or they'll get us too!" Phineas Mason cried back, his normally overweight body replaced by an imitation of Dolph Lundgren. "I can just see the entrance to Stark Tower! We've almost made it!"
*BOOM!*
"I'm down to just one mag!" Randy Vale called out in alarm, ignoring the grenade going off behind him with barely a flinch. Having lost his helmet hours ago, his avatar's hair was wildly whipping in the wind like a version of Kurt Russell, right out of the aptly named Escape From New York.
""SCREEEEE!""
The cry of victory, marking the death of another player, sent the group of three stumbling forward for a second as they flinched and rushed to cover their ears.
"FUCK! Is it just me or are they getting louder?!" Randy yelled as he regained his bearings.
"Stop complaining and RUN! We're almost there!" Adrian, the leader of this faux 80's action star squad, shouted back. He leaped over a flipped taxi cab like an Olympic hurdler, firing blindly into the mass of Chitauri at their backs with his M6D Magnum.
They'd been slowly making their way to what they believed to be the most secure building on the map for the last few hours and had already lost two members of their team to the infected. They were fortunate to have spawned relatively close to one another, but that had quickly proven to be the limit of their luck for today.
For the last few hours, they'd been cornered, swarmed, and chased by more Chitauri than any of them ever saw during the invasion. Their only conciliation and the reason for their survival until now, had been that the digital aliens didn't possess any of the ranged weaponry they did last week.
They'd been able to utilize their extensive knowledge of New York's back alleys and hidden pathways to slip by unnoticed at the beginning, but that had quickly proven to not be enough when their enemy's radar came online. They'd lost Herman half an hour later.
*Brrrt! Brrrt!*
Randy fired into the oncoming horde from his right as Adrian came up behind Phineas, panting in exhaustion. The blonde, Swedish lookalike had the door handle in his grasp, shaking it wildly as his eye's widened in horror.
"Shit! The door's been barricaded!" Phineas cried in panic as he started banging on the steel grate with the butt of his rifle. "What're we gonna do boss?!"
Had it been any other time, Adrian would've been laughing uproariously at the outrageous look spread across the face of one of his favorite actors, but with the situation being as it was, he simply shoved his companion to the side and fired two shots into the metal. Seeing nothing but a pair of smoking holes, he frowned before reaching for the last sphere hooked to his belt.
*Clink-*
Phineas' and Randy's eyes widened as they heard the pin being released and dove for cover behind a pile of fallen concrete, Adrian diving over and joining them soon after.
*BOOM!*
As their hearing came back to them and the pattering of countless sprinting footsteps entered their ears, the trio didn't waste any time and rushed into the cloud of dust left in the grenade's wake. Looking back and seeing the infected too close for comfort, Randy and Phineas shared a glance before tossing their own through the hole they'd just entered.
*BOO-BOOM!*
Catching back up to Adrian, the two found him crouched down next to a conveniently placed ammo cache. They'd ran across more than a few on their long journey here and so they swiftly joined him with brightened eyes.
"This one looks completely untouched boss," Randy said after changing out his mags for fresh ones. "No one must've made it here yet."
"Hmm," the Van Damme imitation nodded. "They must've ran out of 'nades by the time they did. With how rare rockets have been, I don't think they could've gotten through that blockade with anything else."
The two men nodded solemnly at the idea, knowing that it was only their boss's insistence on always carrying at least one explosive on them that saved their lives once again. While originally meant to take out the swarm that'd inevitably dogpile them once caught, this strategy had gotten them out of more than a few tight spots already.
Standing up, the three surveyed the dark building they found themselves in. With a cloud of dust still covering the hole they'd entered through, the only light to be had was that of the streaks of it spilling in through various small bullet holes in the barrier and the few emergency exit signs. They could still hear angry roars of the infected outside and knew that once that cloud dispersed, they'd start rushing in. So, they didn't have much time to linger.
Randy walked over to an elevator and pressed the button, but nothing came of it, the building was obviously on lock down. As sweat and dirt streamed down his face, he glanced over at the stairwell and grimaced, his legs and chest still aching from earlier.
"W-What now boss?" he asked weakly, despite knowing the answer. Phineas saw the direction he was looking and his expression fell as well.
Adrian wasn't in much better condition than either of them, but he knew they didn't have much choice. The billboards outside had already dropped to double digits, which meant they were in the endgame now. If any of them wanted to get out of their meager lives of scavenging junk, they'd have to hold out a little longer.
Now was not the time to give up.
Thoughts of his daughter flashed through his mind, of how they'd all soon be losing their jobs to the new Department of Damage Control, and how he didn't know what to do once they did..
This tournament wasn't just about fame or riches, it was about their families, their very lives hung in the balance. They couldn't afford to lose.
So, steeling his gaze, Adrian turned to both his friends. Meeting their eyes, he took a deep breath and nodded in affirmation, heading towards the stairs.
"We climb."
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
TrojanRabbit
TrojanRabbit patreøn.com/TrojanRabbit
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone