“(Radio) We’re under orbital bombardment on Typhon!”

“(Radio) IMC fighters spotted! IMC fighters spotted! They’re on the port side!”

“(Radio) We’re under attack! Requesting backup! Repeat, requesting ba—(explosion)”

“(Radio) Abandon ship! Repeat! Aban—zzzt—don ship…”

“(Radio) We’re—zzzt—going down…zzzt…eject pods, brace for impa—zzzt…”

“……”

RUMBLE RUMBLE—

Amidst the increasingly chaotic radio chatter, the camera zoomed toward a plummeting escape pod. Inside the motion pod, Tuanzi felt the vibrations intensify violently.

After a moment of black screen, Tuanzi opened her eyes.

Peeking through the tiny window of the pod, she could see other pods streaking through the sky like meteors, just like hers.

The ground was engulfed in thick smoke that rose to the heavens. Crisscrossing machine gun fire formed deadly nets of death. Amid the thunder of cannons, missiles kept slamming into the falling pods.

The overwhelming pressure of the battlefield—roaring explosions and trembling shocks—wrapped around Tuanzi, making her breath hitch and her stomach churn.

“Haa—haa—haa—”

She gasped desperately, trying to calm the rising panic in her chest.

“This is just a game… just a game… it’s only a game…”

Exactly!

Back when motion-sensory games first launched, their biggest selling point was realism. But up to now, every game still had a certain disconnect from reality.

But this?

With Titanfall and the new-gen full-sensory tech, that line between game and reality was all but erased.

So much so, players needed to remind themselves it was a game—just to avoid breaking down from the stress!

The explosions outside got louder. The pod shook harder.

Even as Tuanzi kept chanting her mantra, the moment a missile whizzed straight at her pod, she couldn’t help but scream.

“Aaaahhhhh!!!”

WHOOSH—BOOM!!!

The missile missed, striking a nearby pod on her left.

The deafening explosion erupted into a fireball, swallowing her pod in a heartbeat.

Then came the shockwave. The pod rocked violently!

THUMP—!!!

Darkness.

The livestream went pitch black, leaving only Tuanzi’s ragged, trembling breaths echoing faintly.

The chat exploded:

“Hoooooly—sh*t—”

“Is this a freakin’ movie? A full-sensory MOVIE?!”

“That cinematography, the visuals, the detail…”

“Tuanzi sounds like she’s about to cry, even her breathing’s trembling.”

“No, scratch that—she is crying. I’ve got goosebumps just watching—imagine experiencing it yourself!”

“That fall sequence maxed out the pressure. My toes are curling.”

“This hits harder than a free-fall ride at a theme park.”

“Harder? It’s like dropping from the stratosphere!”

“Is Tuanzi okay…”

After a long pause of frantic breathing, a sniffle came through.

Then Tuanzi’s voice, shakily:

“I… I’m okay! I… I got this!”

Of course!

She said that to cheer herself up. But deep inside, she knew she’d just had an out-of-body experience—her soul chasing her body down from above.

Because Titanfall's level of realism had gone way beyond what she ever expected.

It even simulated the weightlessness during the fall!

Calling it “immersive” wasn’t enough—this was terrifying.

As she worked to calm her breathing, she sent a silent prayer to Golden Wind: Please don’t ever make a horror game at this level of realism… It’ll wipe out the entire streaming industry.

[Escape Pod #8: Passenger Rifleman Jack Cooper, 250mg Trisophen-tanyl injected to stabilize vitals. Side effects of sedative include…]

As the pod’s female system voice chimed in, Tuanzi slowly opened her eyes again.

SSSS—BANG!

The warped and damaged pod hatch exploded outward.

Smoke billowed in, acrid and choking. She sneezed.

And then—clarity.

Under the blanket of night, war raged on.

Billowing smoke glowing faintly with fire swirled in the distance, nearly covering the massive Proxima-like star in the sky.

Above, small fighters zipped through the atmosphere like shooting stars, darting through flashing arcs of energy fire.

Shouts, screams, and the sounds of battle echoed all around.

At the base of jagged mountains, riflemen in the same uniform as her sprinted into combat.

RATATATAT—

“Take cover—!”

“We’re surrounded—!”

“Push forward! Push forward!”

“We have to break throu—”

THWUP!

One rifleman didn’t even finish his sentence before his head exploded into a mist of blood right in front of Tuanzi.

“Holy—sh*t!”

It was like a ghostly hand from hell reached out and clutched her heart. Tuanzi, usually squeaky-clean with her language, screamed out loud.

No game had ever portrayed war this brutally, this vividly.

Her headset filled with screams, gunfire, and static-riddled radio calls. Her blood pressure, just barely lowered, spiked back up.

Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing?

Those three great philosophical questions echoed in her dazed brain.

And then—

A familiar voice crackled over the radio:

“This is Captain Lastimosa, Rifleman Division. I have your position. Move to the designated marker—I’ll rendezvous with you.”

Mr. Lastimosa’s here!

That voice yanked Tuanzi’s soul back to her body.

Right! I’m Jack Cooper, Rifleman! I’m on Typhon! I need to reach the marker and link up with the Captain!

Reinvigorated, she chambered her weapon.

CHAK!

“Charge—! Our Titan is coming! Break through—! Push—!”

She roared like a war god… while crouching low and sneaking behind everyone else.

The chat flooded with question marks.

“You gonna charge or what?”

“This is stealth?!”

“Oh no… Tuanzi turned into a sneaky coward…”

“She learned from Lao Ma, I bet.”

“Loudest shout, last in line—classic.”

“She’s got the survival instinct down to an art.”

“Captain: I like this kid (points to that little rat hiding behind us).”

“Tuanzi: I’m just a side character, what do you want from me?!”

“Human airhorn with no follow-through LOL.”

Amid gunfire and chaos, Tuanzi genuinely struggled to adapt to the cruel battlefield.

But the other riflemen? Battle-hardened pros.

After a bloody push—

Despite heavy losses, they carved out a path!

Fifty meters.

The rendezvous point shimmered on her HUD. Captain Lastimosa’s voice returned:

“Got your signal—prepping for drop.”

Wahoo!

Tuanzi breathed a sigh of relief. The marker glowed by a puddle up ahead. She hurried toward it to hide and wait for backup.

But the moment she moved—

“Enemy Titan incoming!!!”

A teammate’s scream froze her in her tracks.

From above came a thunderous RUMBLE. Tuanzi looked up—

A massive dark shadow plummeted from the sky.

“Wha—!”

Instinct kicked in. She dove backward.

THOOM—!!!

The giant Titan slammed into the earth before her. The impact threw her back like a ragdoll, slamming her into a rock.

Her chest tightened.

Thud-thud… Thud-thud…

She stared in shock as the towering Titan—easily two stories tall—approached.

Around her, comrades fired desperately. But their bullets were nothing to the machine.

Worse—its shoulder cannon deployed.

CHHH—BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!!!

Blood mist erupted across the field.

Before such overwhelming firepower, riflemen were just ants—carbon-based lifeforms stood no chance.

At last, Tuanzi understood what a Titan meant to an army—and what kind of force a Titan Pilot truly was.

But she… was never going to be a Pilot.

Because the enemy Titan’s foot lifted—ready to stomp her out.

And weirdly enough, she wasn’t afraid anymore.

She raised her rifle.

Because the blood in the air?

It was from her comrades—who sacrificed themselves to protect her.

Even though she’d cowered and lagged behind, they still shielded her.

Even at the cost of their lives.

True heroes act, even when they know it’s hopeless.

She wasn’t a great rifleman.

But right now—

She chose to be brave.

RATATATAT—!!!

Facing the stomping metal giant, Tuanzi pulled the trigger!

Bullets bounced off its armor like sparks—no damage.

And just as the foot came crashing down—

WHOOSH WHOOSH—BOOM BOOM BOOM—!!!

Missiles rained from the sky!

Explosions engulfed the enemy Titan!

Then, a graffiti-painted green Titan dropped from above—like a savage brawler—grabbing the enemy and body-slamming it!

VROOOM—CRASH!

The massive frame flew across the field, crashing into the ground, pulverizing the rocks beneath.

Shoulder cannon deployed—missiles launched.

In a blink, the enemy Titan was scrap.

Chat exploded:

“OHHHHHHHHH—!!!”

“Holy sht it’s him! CAPTAIN!!!”

“BT!!!”

“He’s so dmn badass oh my GOD—”

“I’M LOSING IT—”

“This mech game is everything I ever wanted!”

“Please, someone, make a BT figure—name your price I’ll pay it!!”

“The power! The weight! The tech! I need BT in my LIFE!”

“CAPTAIN!!!”

Tuanzi screamed as Captain Lastimosa jumped out of BT’s cockpit.

“Hang in there, kid,” he said calmly, soothingly.

“This’ll help with the pain—this area’s mine now.”

He pulled a syringe from his belt and jabbed it into her thigh.

Her vision blurred. Dizziness washed over her.

She mumbled a reply.

Then watched the Captain return to BT.

Two more enemy Titans—“Elite Hunters”—approached.

Lastimosa and BT moved as one, fighting back.

He was vastly outnumbered, but the veteran held his ground—taking one enemy Titan down!

But then—

Just as BT turned to fight the second one—

A rift opened behind them. A swirling blue-purple void—like a mini black hole.

VOOM—!

Out stepped another Titan—shouldering a massive alloy greatsword.

Tuanzi’s eyes widened. She tried to shout.

But the sedative silenced her.

THUNK—!

The sword-wielding Titan plunged its blade into BT, tearing out its core battery.

BT… fell.

Captain… gone?

The sudden reversal left Tuanzi stunned.

She struggled to move—but her body refused to obey.

Blurry-eyed, she saw a bulky man in a cape greedily looting nearby.

He must’ve been the one who fought BT.

Tuanzi tried to reach for her gun—but couldn’t move a muscle.

Then—

CHHH—THUNK!

Another Titan approached. This one had a gold logo—GW—graffitied on the side.

Gasp—!

Tuanzi froze.

That logo… looked very familiar.

And chat blew up:

“Wait… that Titan’s logo…”

“GW??”

“Golden… Wind???”

“No f**king way… that’s Golden Wind’s logo!!”

“The same one from the intro!!”

“So the Elite Hunters… are Golden Wind?!”

The cockpit opened.

Out stepped a man in a heavy bulletproof vest.

“We’ve got 18 hours! The Ark will be sealed for transport after that!”

“Quit f**king looting! Move your *ss!”

Tuanzi couldn’t see his face clearly.

But that voice…

The chat lost its mind.

“NO WAY—”

“Wait wait wait—is that WHO I THINK IT IS???”

“THAT’S HIM, RIGHT?!”

The man stomped over, furious the looter was still stalling.

He kicked him hard.

WHAM!

“You deaf?! I said move!”

“This ain’t a cleanup gig—we’re not here to collect souvenirs!”

“Get in your Titan! Now!!!”

He slapped the looter hard.

The man cowered. “Y-Yes, boss…”

And finally—up close—the man’s face was clear on-screen.

And the chat exploded:

“WHAT THE F**K—!!!”

Tuanzi practically sat bolt upright.

“Gu Sheng—?!”

That’s right.

This “boss” of the Elite Hunters was none other than—

Gu Sheng, Golden Wind’s lead game director, the mastermind behind Titanfall.

His nameplate read: SamGu.

The chat went feral.

“BRO?! YOU PUT YOURSELF IN THE GAME?!”

“You made YOURSELF the villain?! The final boss?!”

“If he just named the villain Sam, fine. BUT HE MODELED HIMSELF TOO?!”

“This guy’s a menace to society.”

“HE KILLED BT! HE KILLED THE CAPTAIN! HIS OWN CHARACTERS!”

“Gu Sheng, you heartless b*stard!!!”

Tuanzi was shaking with rage.

She roared:

“Give me back BT! GIVE ME BACK THE CAPTAIN!”

“GU SHENG, YOU DOG—!!!”

“This is a blood feud!!!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by lotustale.com