war robots fanfiction

With the game tied up at 1-1, Medevdev could finally take a deep breath as they have just successfully reset the series back to a best-of-one.

“Now, we may not play Canyon as much, but we all know that it’s almost identical to Shenzhen. We will do this – a five Ancilot lineup; mix up the Orkans and Tarans, supported by one Zeus Carnage. WE WILL DO THIS – One takes our nearest home beacon, one goes to the far one and if possible, gets to the other side to pressure…and four takes mid, then proceed to pressure the enemy lineup. Understood?”

The Russian team nodded in response.

“Okay then, let’s do this one and take the trophy home!”

However, the Brazilians had the ultimate cheese plan this time around, as they decided to use a two Thunder Raijin-two Tarancilot-two Haechi lineup. This would ensure that they would be able to cement control of the middle beacon as well as take over the far and near home beacons, ensuring better control of the game.

It simply became a brawl, as both sides were exchanging fire and killing off each other since the timer started.

Pilots ejected and beacons changed hands frequently to the point that the audience could not keep up with what was happening. Once, Beacon C becomes red; however, half a minute later, it becomes blue again and both sides were just focused at keeping control of the middle of the map.

It was a complete deadlock, Igor decided to go extremely aggressive on his Lancelot, skirting towards the canyon to shoot at the feet of his enemies.

Somewhat, the play worked, as De Costa was forced to spend a lot of time and resources to remove Igor’s threat. The resulting mess allowed the Russians to briefly capture the far side beacon of the Brazilian team; which was promptly retaken a minute later.

However, it was enough for the Russians to get the beacon advantage. Knowing that the momentum now belonged to Polar Pro, De Costa commanded QUE OTA to go on full assault mode, disregarding beacons and going for kills.

The Russians were shocked at the change of pace as Haechis dashed in and out, taking fast peeks and unloading their Orkans at lightning speed, leaving Medevdev speechless.

“Preserve your bots! Don’t engage them and just fight in order to preserve or retake beacons!”

Medevdev and his team were forced to play a defensive game, trying to keep themselves alive as much as they can; however, in the dying minutes of the map, they fell down one by one until the point came that only Igor and three Brazilians were left inside the harsh, barren terrain of Canyon.

Two Haechis and one Tarancilot from QUE OTA were quickly trying to close the gap. They were all quite far from any of the Russian beacons, so the only chance they had to win was to kill all the Russians.

It was easy though. Igor was at 6780 HP left.

That meant he was a couple of rockets away from his demise.

In addition, Igor’s Tarancilot had all of its three shields broken. In addition, its legs are damaged and the Ancilot was already knocked out.

Luckily, the Haechis only had Tarans and Orkans – were they to be equipped with the Tulumbas, the Russians would have been out of contention this time around.

Igor knew all of these facts very well, so he just stood at the far corner of the map, hiding behind a ledge and hoping that they don’t reach him. Though Brazil had three beacons, the Russians still have two of their own – and they would win if he was still alive.

He started counting the time.

Thirty seconds left.

The Haechis had a Dash charge every 12 seconds and were able to traverse 150 meters or so; Igor knows that they would be in peeking range before the time runs out.

Holy shit. 18 seconds. I should hide my big, bulky body!

They were running at full speed, timing their Dashes every single time they come off cooldown.

Oh my God.

Then, both dashes appeared within range, and just before they unleashed their weapons and come into a full lock, Igor tried to use the running ability of the Lance, which was still up.

He was able to run a bit, but as soon as the locks came in place, he was wrecked in a matter of seconds.

Igor became the last Russian pilot to eject – they were all wiped out of the map.


There was a slight delay.

Then, the Russian screens went green and Igor jumped in joy, his teammates unable to hide their shock at the play that he was able to accomplish.

With that legendary one-on-three clutch, Igor secures the title for his team and cements his position as one of the best players to ever touch the game.

You can read the next chapter here! As for the previous one, you can always go back!

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