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I've seen things. The lot of them were merely accessories to the grand finale of this show. But not these two.
If anything, the imposed ban of the usage of Mafioso and Goliath was deserved. For being a weapon so easily accrued, it was a total menace to Thaumaturgist enthusiasts...to the point that nobody liked it. It was so powerful that the top dogs of Merc Fleet despised the thing. Once she had declared the withdrawal of both Goliath and Mafioso productions, everybody was happy. I was happy.
I looked into the abyss and it withered within my gaze.
...
To be frank, even though it's been six months since I drafted myself into Thaumaturgy Inc's mercenary squad, I still have no idea what to come across with. Much less if the opponents are rulebreaking too, I guess.
The smell of the alien air on 7t2C, popularly known as Kiltrove, was a bit weird. It smelled a lot like gumamela from my native homeland and overcharged ozone at the same.
Click. Click.
The sound of my fanfire revolver clicking due to the lack of ammunitions helped me zone out a bit. The 10-minute match was just finished and we were having a short break, so it wasn't uncommon for people to have small chats with each other despite literally gunning each other down every time.
"-78? Yo, '78. Wake up." Somebody was shaking me slightly. I think I zoned out a wee bit too much.
"Yea?" I responded, mind still a bit out of it. I looked to my left and saw the tail of a scorpion lazily swinging. "Sorry if I zoned out for a lil' bit. I dunno what to do while match is off."
"Nah, it's alright." The sound of clicking from his secondary pincers echoed through the empty lounge as he sat down. I noticed he had Conqueror clasped on his hands, fiddling with the barrel. "I know you're kinda anxious due to their notoriety, but come on, man. The Administrator banned their usage until they're fully tweaked."
"Sal, you do know that there are people who would willingly break rules just to add another number to their pockets, right?" I quipped back, huffing a bit. For the past few months, before she passed the temporary ban on Goliath and Mafioso usage, it was everywhere. People were decimating arenas left and right, and it turned the friendly competitive atmosphere into a rage-filled hatefest directed towards those who willingly abused it.
"...you do make a point." Salazar, or Sal, as I like to call him, clicked his pincers in dejection. "I had trouble with them too, you know? It was a total infestation in every arena I could see. It demotivated me to even redeploy back too."
Silence.
Sigh. "Well at least we won't have to worry about them now, eh?" I said, trying to feel cheerful about it. I started to load my revolver, as I noticed that the next match was about to begin.
"Yeah...heh." He cracked a smile at that, also relieved at that statement. He loaded a fresh magazine into his battle rifle, and the bell went off.
A new match. Finally.
I grabbed the Gyroblast and a pocketful of Compressor grenades, and I jumped out the building.
This will be fun. Hopefully.