Komtur: Attention, everyone! I know that you’re tired, but our enemies aren’t made of iron, either! It’s even harder for them, as we intentionally timed our checkpoints to late-night in Australia. We’re hoping to wear Pandorum out! We need to prove more stubborn than them, even if for a minute!
Komtur: Pull yourselves together! This day will go down in the history of Sphere. Today, we’ll prove that Pandas can be defeated. We have a good idea how to kick their asses!
The invincibility countdown had long since run out; the castle was open to attack. Long minutes full of anxiety dragged on. The Pandas weren’t coming — they had returned to Atrocity to repel Evil Mook’s sudden attack. The broadcasts streamed by our players gave us a general impression of the events there.
So, did the preemptive attack work out?
Well, both yes and no. Fifty-fifty, you could say. NAVY’s fleet rose to the occasion, sniping away at Atrocity. The Eagles started shooting at the fortress dome, maneuvering in such a way as to dodge the return fire. Pandorum was forced to send most of its fleet back to the Astral Plane to fend off the bothersome opponents. The American raid leader, whoever that was, gave them a hard time, playing hide-and-seek right next to the castle. A small group of their ships approached and quickly retreated, harassing the Pandas from a distance and never getting close enough to fight. They didn’t deal damage rather than get on their nerves, but such was their task: to distract Pandorum and stall.
Our guys in the depths of Atrocity had a much worse time. They had been lucky enough to blow up the cage right away and capture the respawn hall and the closest corridors, but afterward, matters came to a standstill. It felt as if the Pandas knew about our attack and had prepared for it. Our enemies had a lot of expert fighters, too, and war was something they knew well. They divided Mook’s raid into several parts and blocked them off in specially prepared areas. We saw everything via broadcast: the crazy massacre in the underground corridors, the falling stone plates that cut off our players, the rain of fire and acid. After sealing the exits, the Pandas started systematically destroying our guys, keeping them at the resp point via stonejammers. It was a real slaughter, an absolute hell accompanied by an avalanche of taunts and verbal abuse. It was hard to even watch the video. The thing I had dreaded came true: Evil Mook’s raid was locked in the respawn cage.
They died several times while attempting to flee. In the end, the pros of Enemy and Heroes somehow managed to escape, either via the Shadow Plane or Libros, and against all odds, destroy the stonejammers. That operation was the stuff of legends; I had no idea how they managed to succeed. As soon as the Soul Stone-blocking magic was off, the entire Northern raid absconded. There was no point in dying anymore; the alliance kill rating was already a sheet of pure red. Angry and beaten, Mook’s fighters joined us in Condor, jumping there via clan teleport.
They won us two and a half hours. We still had three more to survive.
The dome restoration counted down 2:49 when our seekers announced the appearance of many new signals, and the skies around us were blotted with dozens of Astral Portals. Our enemies sent three hundred ships and five thousand players at us, using the tried-and-true strategy of holding back the quartet of juggernauts.
Condor, the legendary Cloud Castle! Other than rightly belonging to the top 10 of the loveliest castles of Sphere, it was an almost impregnable citadel. The main advantage of Condor was its location at an unreachable altitude, perched on the summit of one of the highest peaks of the Northern Belt. Approaching its walls from below was impossible — nothing was there but deep precipices and icy bluffs of impassable ravines. Ordinary enemies posed no threat; only birdies and airships could attack the Cloud Castle and land on the ring-shaped gallery, the only vulnerable spot in Condor. To do that, however, they would have to withstand the onslaught of the castle keep, ready to rain fire from the arrow-slits of its many floors.
Komtur: Attention! Don’t shoot without a command! Focused fire only, always assist.
The Pandas, however, took their time, despite having only two and a half hours until the dome recovered. Their fleet made use of its air supremacy and regrouped, surrounding the castle with a multi-tiered circle. An armada of sails and thousands of birdies blotted out the sun, drowning Condor in deep shade. They seemed to be in no rush to get under fire from the castle artillery. Instead, the general chat was flooded with a stream of obscenities, offensive memes, and videos. Our enemies pulled no punches.
“Drunk pigs, we brought you more vodka!”
“Filthy Russian dogs!”
“Russians, get the fuck out of here!”
“Fucking Russian retards!”
The Pandas were trying to drive us mad, throw us off, and make us do something to shut them up. However, I didn’t think that this tactic would work. Hate was the best motivation. Despite the discontent in our ranks, they were simply giving us an excuse to give them a stronger beating.
Evil Mook: Remember this, guys. Remember this well.
At last, one of the galleons fired, interrupting that circus. The cannonball exploded in the air, falling way short of its mark, but it was the signal. As if on cue, hundreds of ships started closing in. The first
