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Crimson Clean knew he had what it took to be declared the victor, he just NEEDED to be on time for the arena battle. Desperately he stumbled free of Lounge Row, free from the harrowing glitter encrusted carnival of horrors that had sucked all sense and sanity from its victims, overrun as it was by a chaotic maelstrom of brightly clad freaks, fools, fucktards, fundies, and fags. (It turning out that there are a bunch of fun terms that start with F.)

Jogging in through the arena gates, he looked for his opponent while the crowd went wild, waving signs marked with a mad man's gibberish (LOL LOL LOL XDXD!!!!!), and screaming, "Asterisk! CLAP CLAP! Asterisk!" down at him, whatever that was supposed to mean.

Now, Mr. Clean looked in real life exactly like the psychotic anime lesbian in his avatar, and so he had naturally agreed to this challenge expecting to be facing an oversized cheeseburger with broken transparency.

But the reality was altogether different. The gate on the other side of the arena slowly raised, and some large blue object came trundling out on wheels that squeaked alarmingly.



"Yummy?" Crimson asked, looking at it dubiously as it stopped in front of him.

There was no reply, but as he watched, blades began sliding out of the various drilled holes, and he knew then that battle would be unavoidable. Remembering all his combat training (as a weeb in the UK with some vague tech related job), he leapt into action.

Story A: Infiltration


"We formed and grew within the concrete. Amongst the veins we found naught but disease and blood. We're just shameful parasites trying to keep the host standing tall just so we can see the stars a little better." A short bzzt nags behind your eye. "But you'll always know us better, won't you?" You decrypt the message:

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

COMMAND TO ORION PHI

46: RECON LIVECORP MEETING - SUCCESS CRITICAL

TRGT: CEO MAGNUS HART
DESC: 5'11, 57YO, 190LB, RGB95A EYES, 3 NODES OVER LEFT EYE
GUARD: 7 SPEC 1 LONG RANGE
OBJ: DETERMINE ROLE IN MEETING

TRGT: UNK | DIP ENVOY?
DESC: N/A
GUARD: > 10
OBJ: ID ENTITY AND AGENDA

LOCATION: LIVECORP HQ, 45TH FLOOR, CONF RM ZETA, 0400
INFIL: 38TH FLOOR MAINTENANCE HATCH TO VENT

SECURITY LEVEL 7
BEWARE DRONES
EXPECT VIRTUAL BACKUP
NO EVAC

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

One last look before descending back into the dimly lit body of smog. Bzzt. It's Iota, "DON'T GET COCKY JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE CLOSE TO VIRGO! EVERY MISSION COULD BE YOUR LAST!" [Read] "YOU PIECE OF SHIT I KNOW YOU SENT A READ RECEIPT ON PURPOSE!" [Read] [Typing...] [] "I HOPE YOU DIE ON THIS MISSION!" Bzzt.

Through uncharted veins you gaze upon the maglignant tumor of Livecorp HQ. The city has uncountable diseases, but if anyone tried to count they would start with this one. A momentary thought, "Maybe they're meeting to be less greedy and make the world a better place for all." After a quick smirk and an eyeroll, you focus on the festering citadel of fiendish fortunes.

19 surface drones, overlapping scans. One rooftop sniper duo. Air-tight. 0300. No time for caution. You sit near some dumpsters and line up with an external maintenance closet. Bzzt.

"5...4..." finally, backup. You drop any combat gear. Going in light. "2...1..." you kick off at full sprint straight through the drone's overlapping sensor fields. It takes 1.8 seconds to cross the gap. Whoever the virtual backup is nailed it; they blinked the drones just enough for you to slip past. You feel relief that your backup is most likely an Orion or Virgo and not the usual Cruxfodder or hopeful Lyra. The maintenance door unlocks with a quiet click and you enter an overstuffed room of tools, brooms, buckets, and more.

No internal access to the building. Through the wall is risky without knowing what's on the other side. Bzzt. A thermal map overlays your vision, leading you to break through a small crack in the drywall. Feels like color by numbers. "Am I just another drone to you?" Their response: [Read]. A quick hack into the dusty emergency stairwell and a brief sprint later was floor 38. 0340. Meeting is in 20 minutes. Bzzt, "LATE"

[Read]

Bzzt, "K"
Bzzt, "Y"
Bzzt, "S"

At least you're not working with a brick wall. The hard part starts now though, everything gets left behind on this floor so you can fit in the vents without making noise. You strip down to underwear and pull up your socks. As you climb into the vent you turn off any unecessary internal systems and send one last message: "I'm going to go fast. Keep up." You get one last buzz of confirmation before turning off the neuralink comms.

You reached floor 42 before directly running into a drone. It definitely saw you. You have to continue and trust your backup has it handled. Though it created an unsettling feeling like a curse of death was put on you. There were a few more close calls with drones. Nearing floor 45 you had no other option but to trip lasers and rush through airflow sensors. 0410. You took longer than expected. But you can hear talking from the conference room. A man and a woman. Noted.

Inching closer you can start to make out words through the vent walls. "...agreement...lucrative for.....yes..." it's not enough, but the vent gets unbearably narrow further along. You wiggle forward, only able to inch forward upon breathing out. Not able to take a full breath in. The vent walls are numbing your arms and legs. The female voice was clear now, "...further your connection with Ecin Group, making it the most profitable merger in human history. I'm sure you can understand, Maggy."

You stifle a laugh. "Maggy?" Is he meeting with his mother?

"I agree, it's just...so much short term loss." you hear Magnus, "We can't treat our customers so poorly - they may catch on and--"

"And switch to DART? I thought you had bigger fish to fry than small time competitors like that! Besides, this guy seems to be saying something more favorable than what you're projecting." the woman has a venom to her tone.

"Well, he is my greatest advisor. I think a tour would be nice, Sharon." Magnus seems happy.

A merger with a company whose head is named Sharon? The cool airflow has completely numbed your fingertips now, it'll take longer to back out of this claustrophobic vent.

"I want it all Maggy. Let's merge our companies ...and our bodies!"

Woah.

There's the sound of clothes dropping. "Our children will rule the combined empire we build!"

Woah woah woah - Don't do this while I'm spying! Talk about politics or something!

"MMmm...I miss the taste of your hot cyber lovestick. Take me, here and now on this conference table!"

You start backing out with more fervor than before. Silence is only necessary in a silent room after all. Sharon is really getting into it though, she seems the sadistic type, hitting Magnus.

Sharon is howling now. "I love it! All those peons will die, millions will revolt, and billions of dollars will flow right into our pockets! Aaaauuuggghh! Fuck!"

This will be a terrible report. Not only are millions going to die but their fate was sealed with this cringe.

"Now! Let's do it now, with our combined biosignature!" she yelps.

Magnus groans. The vents of the 45th floor zeta conference room of Livecorp HQ got significantly more awkward. Sharon begins maniacally laughing before calming down and reaching for what sounds like her clothes. A comms unit beeps, "Target eliminated. Report full success." Sharon sounds deadpan.

Your spy training kicks in and you calmly begin backing out fully. Magnus is dead, she probably also got a merger. Millions more will die.

Seems even the tumor has its own diseases.

Story B: Conscience


I stare out the window of my Georgetown apartment, the weight of the world pressing down on my shoulders. The whiskey in my hand does little to numb the ache in my chest. Tomorrow, I'll be on a plane to Baghdad, tasked with the impossible: convincing the Iraqi government to accept our terms, to avoid a war that seems all but inevitable.


My mind drifts to a conversation I had earlier today with the Secretary of State. His words echo in my head: "We need this to happen, John. The President is counting on you." The unspoken message was clear - failure is not an option.


As I take another sip, I can't help but wonder how we got here. Just a few years ago, the idea of invading Iraq seemed absurd. Now, it's all but certain. The intelligence reports, the political maneuvering, the media frenzy - it all feels like a runaway train, and I'm powerless to stop it.


I think about my son, barely out of high school, talking about enlisting. The thought of him, or any of America's sons and daughters, dying in a foreign land for... what? Oil? Democracy? Vengeance? The reasons seem to shift like desert sands.


As dawn breaks, I board the plane, my mind a battlefield of conflicting emotions. The flight is long, giving me ample time to rehearse my talking points, to steel myself for the negotiations ahead. But as we descend into Baghdad, a different thought creeps in: What if I were meeting an Iraqi diplomat in a DC coffee shop instead? Would we find common ground over lattes and shared stories of our children?


As we descend into Baghdad, I recall a conversation from the day before my departure. It was late, and I found myself in a dimly lit bar not far from the White House. The National Security Advisor slid onto the stool next to me, his face grim.


"John," he said, signaling the bartender, "I need you to understand something. This isn't just about WMDs. There's more at stake here than what we're telling the public."


I waited, nursing my drink, as he leaned in closer. "We're reshaping the Middle East. Iraq is just the beginning. But for this to work, we need them to reject our terms. Do you understand?"


The implications of his words hit me like a freight train. I was being sent not to prevent a war, but to ensure one. The realization left a bitter taste in my mouth, worse than any whiskey.


The next few days are a blur of meetings, each more tense than the last. I sit across from Iraqi officials, their faces a mix of defiance and fear. They know what's coming, just as I do. We dance around the real issues, speaking in diplomatic doublespeak about inspections and disarmament. But we both know the truth - the decision has already been made in Washington.


The conference room is stifling, both from the Baghdad heat and the tension that hangs in the air. Across the long table, Foreign Minister Aziz's eyes bore into mine, his fingers drumming an impatient rhythm on the polished wood.


"Mr. Thompson," he says, his voice carefully controlled, "you speak of disarmament, of inspections. But we both know this is not about weapons."


I take a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. "Minister, the United States' position is clear. We need to ensure—"


"Ensure what?" Aziz interrupts, his composure cracking slightly. "Your country's dominance in the region? Access to our oil fields?"


The other Iraqi officials shift uncomfortably in their seats. I can feel the eyes of my own team on me, waiting to see how I'll respond.


"Minister," I say, leaning forward, "I understand your concerns. But the consequences of non-compliance will be severe. Surely we can find a way to—"


"To what?" Aziz asks, his voice barely above a whisper now. "To avoid the inevitable? We are not fools, Mr. Thompson. We know your planes and ships are already moving into position."


For a moment, the mask of diplomacy slips, and I see the fear behind his eyes. It's a fear I recognize all too well.


In a rare moment of candor, one of the Iraqi negotiators pulls me aside after the meeting. "You know this will not end well," he says, his eyes pleading. "For any of us." I can only nod, the words stuck in my throat.


As the talks drag on, I find myself wandering the streets of Baghdad during breaks. The city is alive, vibrant, so at odds with the sterile briefing rooms where we plot its potential destruction. I watch children play in the streets, old men sipping tea in cafes, women haggling in the markets. These are the people who will bear the brunt of our decisions, I realize. Not the politicians, not the generals, but these ordinary people just trying to live their lives.


That evening, I find myself in a small, nondescript café, far from the usual diplomatic haunts. Across from me sits Hassan, a mid-level Iraqi bureaucrat I've known for years. We're both taking an enormous risk meeting like this, but desperate times call for desperate measures.


"John," Hassan says, his voice barely audible over the clinking of cups and muted conversations around us, "you must understand. Even if we wanted to comply fully, we couldn't."


"What do you mean?" I ask, leaning in.


Hassan's eyes dart around nervously before he continues. "The weapons your country claims we have... many of them simply don't exist. But if we admit this, we look weak to our neighbors, to our own people. And if we can't prove a negative..."


He doesn't need to finish the thought. We both know what it means. The impossible situation, the catch-22 that will lead to war no matter what.


As I leave the café, the weight of this knowledge presses down on me even more heavily than before. The game is rigged, and I'm an unwitting pawn.


Back in my hotel room, I sit at the desk, staring at the blank page before me. The faces of those I've met swirl in my mind - the defiant Minister Aziz, the pleading eyes of the Iraqi negotiator, Hassan's nervous glances in the café.


I think about the National Security Advisor's words, the hidden agenda behind this diplomatic charade. I think about the children playing in the streets, blissfully unaware of the storm that's about to engulf their lives.


My hand hovers over the phone. With one call, I could expose everything. I could tell the truth to the press, to the UN, to anyone who would listen. But would it make a difference? Or would I be dismissed as a crackpot, a traitor, my words lost in the drumbeat of war?


The enormity of the decision paralyzes me. I'm just one man, standing against the tide of history. What right do I have to make this choice? What right do I have not to?


I draft my report to Washington. My hands shake as I type, knowing that my words could be the final push towards war. I think about my son again, about all the sons and daughters who might soon be fighting and dying on these very streets.


The gravity of it all hits me like a physical blow. I stumble to the bathroom, barely making it before I vomit, my body rebelling against the weight of my conscience. As I rinse my mouth, I catch my reflection in the mirror. I hardly recognize the person staring back at me.


In that moment, I make a decision. I can't do this. I can't be the one to give the green light to a war I don't believe in. But I also know I can't stop it. The machinery is already in motion, and I'm just a small cog in a vast, unfeeling machine.


With trembling hands, I reach for my phone. I call my wife, telling her I love her, that I'm sorry. I call my son, leaving a voicemail begging him not to enlist, to stay safe, to live a good life. Then I sit at the desk and begin to write - not a report, but a confession. A detailed account of everything I've seen, everything I know about the real reasons behind this war.


As I finish writing, I look out over the Baghdad skyline. The sun is setting, painting the city in hues of gold and red. It's beautiful, I think, and I wonder how long it will remain so.


I seal the letter, addressing it to a journalist I trust. Then I reach for the bottle of sleeping pills I always travel with, tipping them into my hand. As I raise them to my lips, I hesitate. Is this the right choice? Or am I just running away?


The pills feel heavy in my palm as I stand at the precipice of a decision that will change everything. The city lights flicker on outside, a stark reminder of the lives at stake. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and...

Put your votes in response to this post. Please keep responses on topic, the Thunderdome is not for your brain on rot.

Your Thunderdome introductions are absolute top tier. They always entertain me, hopefully you get commended for it! 

I could barely read these without the lesbian flag+rainbow background and comic sans

But my vote is for Story B.

Story A had an engaging exposition but it seemed to drag on for a little too long before arriving at the scene with Sharon and Magnus. I don't know if it was the dialogue or premise, but I found it hard to take the story seriously with an ending like that. Still, a solid story overall imo.

In contrast, I think story B showed a stronger grasp on writing and was more measured out. Nice job to both contestants.

I'm not sure I can give an unbiased vote this time, as both of these were not only written with a differing style but the basis of they're theme is very different as well!

One is a high sci fi story with a comedic twist whereas the other is a more reality grounded serious story.

I read both of them twice, and it only made it harder to vote, because I think both stories succeed at doing what they set out to do fairly well, but I also feel they both stumble a bit in execution.

Story A suffers from being too plot focused for a short story game, not allowing things to be properly explained/fleshed out. Though personally I'd say it works in the story's favor, but I can definitely see an argument that it would be better if it were more fleshed out.

Story B on the other hand, while more detailed in its moment to moment narrative, sort of feels like it goes through the motions a lot during its run. Don't get me wrong, there are a handful of scenes that stand out and most of the story comes together by the end. But it all ties back to the same conflict, whether or not the MC is willing to go through with enacting the war. This is a fine theme to focus on, and I appreciate the multiple attempts to humanize the conflict, but when you shift through the details a lot of it feels disjointed. It all makes logical sense, but thematically it feels a bit repetitive even if it succeeds in what it set out to do.

Meanwhile I have to give Story A some props for actually sticking the landing on such a high sci fit concept near flawlessly (well...in the context of a 2000 word story written in a day or two anyways...). I can see so many ways in which the story could have fell apart but it didn't and I really appreciate that. The details are more sparse but I feel like I have a decent idea of what the world building is like and how the characters operate based on what was given alone. A stark contrast to Story B as Story A has a MC who takes their mission so seriously that things like "emotion" aren't really being considered while the mission is in progress. Also it utilized a distinctive prose, which while gimmicky, I think works well given what it was trying to do.

Its not an easy choice but I'm going with Story A for this one! If Story B had more of an "oomph" to it instead of solely relying on the fear of war to carry its thematic message then I might have voted for that one instead in the interest of fairness. (To clarify this isn't a bad theme to focus on, even for the majority of your story, its just that there didn't seem to be much to get ME THE READER to care on a personal level about the war outside of it being...well a war. Sure you could say the same for Story A...but I think the difference is that its more thematically diverse (whether its more thematically dense is debatable though! lol :P) without losing sight of being a competent story...so its a close call but that's the difference maker for me personally I guess...)

Ah who am I kidding! I probably would have voted for Story A anyways solely on the basis of me liking it more! :P (So maybe it wasn't that close after all! :O)

Also the line "Not only are millions going to die but their fate was sealed with this cringe." did NOT need to go that fricken hard! Like DAMN! :O (Needless to say, I think this line works really well both with and without context! lol :P)

My vote is for Story A! 

Your point of Story B "not making you care about it on a personal level" is insane. That war ACTUALLY happened. Those people ACTUALLY DIED. Now I'm not saying Story B is a piece of nonfiction but its absolutely based on real world events (which may have went down like that). Holy fuck dude. We literally went over there and fucking destroyed a country. We kicked in doors. We bombed kids. We mass murdered people in the initial invasion. Men, women, children getting absolutely rekt'd. 

I'm not mad that you voted A. I don't care about that - its 2 stories, but to say that the story does not stand on its own because it didn't make you care about if the war happened or not is just being blatantly ignorant to world events. 

Ok now I realize I probably should have elaborated on that point more (or found a different reason entirely) cause as it stands...yeah...I can see now why it would come off as very inconsiderate!

I think in the pursuit of being fair I basically tried to view both stories as being fictional (which they are, but I can see why historical fiction kinda blurs that line).

And I said that was the breaking point for me to skew my vote in the other direction, it wasn't a direct knock on the story itself. (Even then I basically just came up with that so that I'd have an easy to understand reason...when I say I didn't care about it on a personal level I was obviously talking about it within the context of the story...not the actual real world event!) Though again...I didn't elaborate on what I meant by that, as its an extremely vague statement.

Look I'll admit, I'm not an expert on the war, even if I have heard a lot of things about it over the course of my life.

But believe it or not that story did actually get me a bit emotional, especially at the end of it, probably not to the same degree it did for you but those emotions were there nevertheless.

I'm glad your emotional investment was heightened due to you being more familiar with the war and not being anal enough to fixate on certain details which may or may not matter since personal gain from stories is subjective. Good for you...really!

And finally I did not make the claim that the story does not stand on its own on the basis that it didn't make me care if the war happened or not...I didn't even say that last part at all!

Ok so I reread your entire comment and disregarded any emotion on both sides and I can say that yes...you are technically right in the main point you are making...insofar as I am ignorant to world events....like I said I don't know a whole lot about the war.

But please don't turn this into me being deliberately inconsiderate of what happened!

If I really wanted to I could counter argue that the war "actually happened" with "its just a story" (which I already know the cournter argument to, but I bring this up as an example to show that this isn't all black and white!)

But I wont...because I can sympathize with where your coming from even if I feel you misunderstood what I meant to say (which could be because I miscommunicated it...but whatever you get my point by now...).

(Oh and if you somehow thought that I DIDN'T know that the war "actually happened"...I really don't know what to tell you. There was enough detail and refrences to real world events that I recognized...which allowed me to figure that it was based on real world events very quickly!)

My vote is for Story B.

Both stories are worthy of commendation. Story A plays a bit with format and manages some exposition without taking the reader out of the story. The humor works well too for a story focused on mocking corporatocracy. Story B takes a sincere tone with historical fiction and handles an inner character struggle very well. I think I enjoyed Story B more for being better fleshed out and consistent with its tone. Story A had a lot of potential, but I felt as a reader that the shock humor of the "merger" was the main thing that carried the narrative. I liked how the story started, but that tone didn't carry through to the end. The merger scene was just too ridiculous. Still, I got a kick out of the scene regardless. Story B stays on point. I understand the protagonist and the conflict well. As an American, I already have an understanding of what happened at that point in history, but I felt confident I could understand what was going on just based on the narrative alone. It ends at an appropriate and satisfactory point. Good job to both authors! 

Just going to cut to the chase: Story B.

I liked both of them for different reasons.

Story A: Love the cyberpunk setting. Whole thing was a great read. Had funny moments and reminded me heavy of The Heist from Cyberpunk 2077. 

Story B: Holy shit dude. That was great read. The emotion conveyed through that story was absolutely amazing. It really stirred some emotions up in me and for that its got my vote.

Two strong Thunderdome entries, and tone-wise, they probably couldn't be more different.

Story A is goofy in a way that I can certainly appreciate. It's pretty funny yet also tells a pretty interesting story, with a really cool overarching setting/plot that I think would be honestly really fun if it were turned into a full-fledged storygame or something. Admittedly it maybe could have used a bit more combing and correcting to iron out some SPAG issues, and I felt there was a bit of a drop in quality around the halfway point in the story, but overall I did enjoy it.

Story B is the more tonally serious and intense one between the two. The writing style is incredibly depressing and does an excellent job conveying emotion, making the reader feel something, and painting a grim picture. Really I don't have much else to say about it- strong writing, strong entry.

My vote is for Story B.

Last time having you and Wizzy's story both on such similar themes was unusual too, but I'm trying to remember if there's ever been two that were both still as good quality wise but were as opposite in everything else as these.

Story B. More in depth thoughts when I'm done with work.

and she was never done with work. Must be an amazon warehouse worker. 

Medical related, but close enough to be honest. Congrats on the win - one day I'll go into detail about how much I liked it. Maybe.

sorry i didnt see this one. Hope youre better now, and thank you ^_^

Definitely "B."--tight story structure, snappy prose, and with an end that made me blink at it a few times.  Which is really not too bad a knock on "A."  I could totally imagine A winning in another matchup, specifically ones we had recently.  But this one is "B."

Story A was certainly something. I personally love weird stylistic stuff, so this story intrigued because of this. Unfortunately, that feeling began to fade as I kept reading. The main character infiltrates a heavily fortified base as a bunch of terms are thrown at us. None of these are explained and we are simply left to guess what anything means. It feels like we're in the middle of a larger story, just reading an excerpt. There's plenty of characters, but there's pretty much no development of them, and there's no buildup to an ending that's millions of people dying, apparently. It's funny, I guess. The writing isn't bad either.

Story B felt like a full story. We were given the exposition, then the events of the story led up to a climax and a bit of a cliffhanger. We know the Iraq war happened, but maybe this is an alternate timeline where this message somehow dissuades someone and that results in the war not happening. Nonetheless, the character in the story wouldn't know this, and the story kept me more engaged, because I actually understood what the fuck was going on all the time.

Now, I'm also pretty bad when it comes to explaining things, but Story A is pretty egregious, while it doesn't even come close to the word limit. Story B is much more complete, even though cool sci-fi concepts could've won me over if they had been explained better. I also enjoyed how vastly different the execution of the prompt was---"mergers" are certainly a form of backroom diplomacy now that I think about it. The writing was also better than Story A, on account of better imagery, deeper emotions and more showing instead of telling.

TL;DR I vote Story B!

I didn't like either one of those.

But story B was written better, I think

Yess, I’m finally done with all what I needed to do IRL! So, just as I had kinda promised to Mizal, here is my review for both stories.

Fun fact; this essay is longer than story A lololol

BTW: I vote for story B

Story A

I like that the story starts off strong with some punchy dialogue. It is a bit vague and I have no idea what is going on, but the details given make me interested enough to keep reading. “Shameful parasites”, “hosts”. I’m intrigued.

Then some creative decisions were made that made me frown. The whole command to Orion is a big nothing burger with tons of abbreviations, capslock and short hands that make me wonder why I’m even reading it in the first place. In a game, writing out the entire message would make a ton of sense since it is kind of setting flavor to establish the tone. Here, it did do the same thing as it did make me clue in about the science fiction setting, but you did it in the most inefficient way possible. You do know that you have only 2.000 words right? Why do you waste so much time with this bullshit? The story has in total about 1000 words, that section was 70 words long. You wasted at least 7% percent which could have been devoted to the plot and characterization.

The following paragraph is a bit funny. I get that the tonal whiplash is part of the humor, but it clashed a bit too much for me. The first paragraph talks in fancy pancy metaphors and stuff and is all serious and introspective and then you slap the reader with Cel’s level of humor. Sometimes it is a good thing to surprise the reader, but do know what kind of expectations you want to set for your readers before you break them. I don’t think you know what kind of story you want to write.

Again, with beautiful strong imagery just like I had seen in paragraph 1. Disease as a motif may not be the most innovative, but I like the way you use it to describe the corruption in the city. Also a strong collection of words was: on the festering citadel of fiendish fortunes. The alliteration makes it even better. Plus again disease imagery with the word festering.

The next couple of paragraphs do help build up the tension pretty well. One thing that I saw that you often use as a crutch are these sound effects like Bzzzt or things like [read]. It made it difficult for me to read. I know that it does have more of a cyberpunk vibe, but it is very distracting for me to read.

SPAG error detected; you strip down to underwear.

I still find it weird that the protagonist strips to their underwear.

Then the most nonsensical thing happened which kind of killed every bit of tension. This starts with the protagonist laughing at Magnus’ name. Ultimately the moment that killed every goodwill I had towards the story was when Sharon and Magnus were doing rather intimate stuff with each other. The author definitely intended it to be funny. I didn’t think it was funny, it felt rather juvenile. I also lost sense of the plot. Their dialogue was also cringy.

But to be honest, I didn’t know what the plot even was for the story. Like, even in the beginning I didn’t know what exactly the protagonist wanted to do; did they want to steal something, kill someone or just infiltrate the building? I’m not sure.

The last sentence of the story was very strong though despite the whole hogwash you subjected me to. “Seems like the tumor has its own diseases.” This line is a great line.

All in all, I do see some inklings in some sentences of writing prowess. The disease motifs was the strongest part of the story and it definitely had some potential. It was just buried in all this juvenile humor and clunky storytelling sadly enough.

I think this story is written by Yummyfood. I do hope that I’m proven wrong, but I’ve seen his track record and most of his stories are kinda questionable in terms of quality.

Story B

You, my guy, you got the assignment right. First paragraph sets up the tone; what the story will be about; who the character is and what he feels about it. I think that many people like to jump into the action with dialogue since that feels a lot more dynamic to the reader, but this opening like you’ve seen in story B is a perfect way to introduce the reader to a story too!

Also great use of showing in the introduction. You describe his emotions in VERBS and ACTIONS. It is honestly lovely to see. Pressing down my shoulders. Does little to numb the ache.

I also love how your portrayed his thoughts and how scattered they are. At one point he thinks about the secretary of state, then the war, then his family and his son. Again very strong sentences were used. It all feels like a runaway train, and I’m powerless to stop it. The reasons seem to shift like desert sands. Even though it is technically exposition, you also used it as characterization of our protagonist. This, this is how exposition should be written. Besides the world events, the character says what HE THINKS about it and HOW HE FEELS ABOUT it. You can just almost see the hopelessness in his voice, the worry he has for his son, the futility he feels about the whole war. I love it.

Again as the protagonist boards the plane; another beautiful phrase. A battlefield of conflicting emotions. The upcoming war is so much in his mind that he even uses war like imagery in his own narration. Normally it would be a regular phrase, but with the context that we now know, it feels even more clever and meaningful.

The interaction with Aziz is just too heartbreaking. You can also see how much the composure between the two men breaks down. At first Aziz is described as his voice carefully controlled. Then: His composure cracking slightly. Ultimately this sad line. I see the fear in his eyes.

Also I love how you also describe the city of Baghdad after his meeting with Aziz. Him describing how alive it is and how children were playing in the streets. Not only is it a great way to show his guilt, but also a great way to show the reader what will be lost if the inevitable war were to break out.

I think that the conversation with Hassan was a little bit weak compared to the conversation with Aziz. There were less intense emotions and I didn’t feel as much personality emanating from Hassan.

The ending is kinda like a bookend, ending with the protagonist thinking about his son, his guilt and the inevitability of the war, but now he is faced with the reality what he will be destroying. Something feels so sad about him looking at the skyline, knowing that he will never see it again.

All in all, great work. I also cried. Darnit.  

Just mention in response to one of these points though, the objective in story A was to determine Magnus's role in the meeting. That was stated in the beginning.

And it was interesting also that you were the only one who questioned the authorship of these. Something pretty much nobody did in the last contest either even with Ravenic clearly not being present.

Anyway, glad you got some breathing space with your IRL stuff, and thanks for taking the time with these. I knew you'd like Story B

Fuck, I thought I knew who was who after you spoiled one in the discord, but these plot twists have been getting me again and again.

Absolutely no recollection. Was I around for that?

Mizal is amazing at foreshadowing and hidden Easter eggs. In the introductions to the thunder dome she very clearly states that if I show up I will win. Which was her way of saying that she believes my story would win - So I was pretty confident even before I read story A that I would win. 

Damn that's a good twist right there. 

Yours and Darius's reviews were definitely my favourite ones - really melted my heart. Glad to hear you liked it. I'm Not sure if Darius noticed but Aziz was actually the real foreign minister of Iraq. 

Haha, I believed that part and the broad strokes of the story, but the rest was probably fictional. 

But good story! I'm glad that I didn't skip out on this one :).

b

Another piece of fiction mastery. Another commendation should be in order. 

Lol, definitely didn't expect that. But yeah, it does suddenly make a lot of sense.

I'll wander back through in a bit to hand out comms and update the main thread with the last few duels.

Congratulations Crimson on your victory!

thank you Milton!