Bomb Rune

Two, not including his. That’s possibly eight remaining contenders. His own squad is down to just himself and one other, and he checks the proximity of his ally on his HUD before glancing up at the scoreboard. He’s tied for third with the player controlling the monstrously huge, fire-breathing avatar.

The one I want to avoid, he laments, before grappling over to land in a crouch beside the old man. With only three squads left, scattered across the field, they have a moment to breathe and review their strategy. “We are doing very well, friend!” he greets him. “I have marked the last known positions of our enemies on your HUD!”