Thunder Reforged
Copyright© 2026 by FozzieBare
Chapter 12: The Final Showdown. “Don’t Double Down on Stupid.”
<TenMillionBlades> sent a contingent over to Reforged’s area shortly after Round Seven ended.
Adrian and Elias were going over strategy when Elias spotted the Blades leadership approaching. He quickly, and discreetly, made sure none of the active screens displayed anything actionable.
If the Blades intended to betray them, the plan worked best if they continued underestimating exactly what Reforged was bringing to the party.
They exchanged a few perfunctory greetings. Adrian congratulated the Blades on holding the lead, while the leader of their contingent expressed his admiration for ThunderRoad’s ability to keep a newer guild together under such difficult circumstances.
Normally, Elias might have been annoyed that they addressed Adrian first instead of him.
This time, he understood.
It fit their view of Reforged perfectly. Adrian and Amy were the real powers in the guild.
Elias?
Well, someone had to do the paperwork, right?
Elias suppressed a smile.
Let them have their illusions.
After a minute or two, the Blades finally got around to why they had come.
“Look, we’re pretty sure the High Point Coalition is going to push for a decisive battle early in the final round. That way, if they win, they’ve got the rest of the round to grab as many bases as possible before time runs out.”
The Blade leader shrugged.
“No offense, but Round One put you guys pretty far behind. If they want to win, they have to take us down first, then go after you and everyone else before the clock runs out.”
Adrian raised an eyebrow.
“So, you’re proposing...?”
He let the words trail off, the question obvious.
The Blade leader nodded.
“At first, we thought about asking you guys for a platoon. Really tip the odds.”
He gestured vaguely toward Reforged’s position.
“But that wouldn’t be fair to you. You’d be leaving your own bases open for Naranja to snipe.”
How considerate of them.
“So we can’t ask that.”
A pause.
“But somebody who can pilot a WarMAC like you can? One pilot like that can tip a battle.”
He looked directly at Adrian.
“Would you mind helping us out?”
Adrian pretended to consider it.
“I’m leaning toward yes.”
Then he frowned slightly.
“But I’ve gotta sell it to the rest of my guild. They were pretty pissed when you guys grabbed a base that was obviously in our expansion path.”
“Yeah. About that.”
The Blade leader gave an apologetic shrug.
“Couple of our guys got a little overenthusiastic. Saw an open base and grabbed it before anybody looked at the bigger picture.”
Adrian said nothing.
“Tell you what. Help us break the coalition, and once that’s done, we’ll hand it back. Hell, there should be enough bases lying around afterward that we can make sure Reforged comes out of this pretty well.”
Adrian smiled.
“That’ll make the conversation easier.”
Internally, he was singing a much different tune.
If your plans were any more blatant, you’d be hiring a marching band all carrying an LED sign saying “WE ARE GOING TO BETRAY YOU.”
If there was any chance of them honoring the agreement, they’d give us the base the second the round starts. Not after the final battle.
Suddenly, I feel a lot happier about what’s about to happen.
A moment later, practicality intruded.
Well, should we survive that long.
With many promises of goodwill and bonhomie that nobody meant, the Blades went back to their part of the convention floor.
Adrian turned to Elias the moment they were out of earshot.
“Eighty-twenty.”
Elias frowned.
“You mean eighty percent chance they betray us?”
Adrian shook his head.
“No. That’s a near certainty.”
He glanced toward the departing Blades.
“Eighty percent chance they betray us after the battle.”
Pause.
“Twenty percent chance it’s during the battle.”
Elias stared at him for a second.
“You got all that from the base?”
“Mostly.”
Adrian shrugged.
“Also from the fact they asked for me instead of a platoon.”
Elias’s expression tightened.
“Keep Reforged home. Pull you away from us.”
“Exactly.”
“They think without you, Reforged crumbles.”
“If they’d asked for Amy too, I’d give them at least a small chance of honoring the deal.”
Adrian glanced back toward the Blades’ section.
“They might decide it wasn’t worth the damage the two of us could inflict trying to fight our way out. We’d still lose, but they’d lose a LOT of time.”
Elias nodded slowly.
“Well.”
A small smile.
“Time to show them Reforged runs twenty-four deep.”
The commentators were tired.
It had been a long day for them too, and unlike the teams, they didn’t even get most of the time between rounds off. A studio crew handled recaps, interviews, and filler segments, but for Tommy and Mike that mostly translated into bathroom breaks and a few hurried bites of food.
With the final round still a few minutes away, they were talking off-mic.
“I’d hate it if the Blades won.”
“Mmm.”
“They got a hot start, found an alliance with a neighbor who barely kept their heads above water, and then used sheer numbers to grind everybody else down.”
Mike leaned back in his chair.
“Worst part is, I can already smell a betrayal coming.”
Tommy glanced over.
“You too?”
“Prize money isn’t just based on finishing position. Bases matter. The only thing stopping the Blades from turning on Reforged the second the main battle is over is goodwill.”
A pause.
“And they don’t strike me as particularly sentimental when money’s involved.”
Tommy sighed.
“Yeah. Then we’ll have to spend ten minutes talking about it like it was some grand strategic masterstroke instead of a bunch of opportunistic assholes.”
He shook his head.
“I hated that interview with them after Round Five. They talked like the whole event was already over.”
“It’s a shame too. Reforged got two-on-one’d right out of the gate and they’ve been fighting from behind all day.”
Mike glanced at one of the secondary displays.
“I don’t think they’ve had a single really big fight since...”
He stopped.
“Wait a second.”
Tommy looked over.
“What?”
Mike pointed.
“Look at their Reinforcement Pool.”
“Yeah?”
“Didn’t we figure earlier that Elias was banking points so he could keep ThunderRoad and A-Bombadier on the field if they lost their machines?”
Tommy looked again.
“Pretty much.”
“But they haven’t been fighting aggressively.”
Silence.
Mike leaned closer to the screen.
“So what is that Reinforcement Pool for?”
Tommy stared at the number.
“You don’t think...”
“Probably not.”
Mike sat back.
“But keep it in your back pocket.”
A grin.
“Reforged does have a habit of making things weird.”
Tommy laughed.
“Loved that video.”
“One of my friends was in Royal Road. Posting it in guild chat started earning people guild bans.”
A producer’s voice came through their headsets.
“Thirty seconds.”
Both men straightened.
Whatever Reforged was doing would have to wait.
The final round was about to begin.
Elias had laid down the law for the team.
Except for the pilots scheduled to start the round, nobody was to sit at their station until the round actually began. They didn’t want to give the Blades even the slightest hint that something unusual was happening.
Once <TenMillionBlades> started positioning its forces for the final battle, the rest of Reforged would quietly make their way onto the board.
And God help anyone who fired on a Blades base before the betrayal actually happened.
Elias had been absolutely clear about that.
They were not going to start this fight.
But by God, if the Blades started it, Reforged was going to finish it.
Amy was practically vibrating. She almost demanded to join Adrian for the opening fight.
Adrian put the kibosh on that.
“We want them thinking about the coalition. Not about Reforged. You show up, maybe they start asking questions.”
“Fine. But once they betray us, I’m coming to rescue you.”
Amy adopted an expression of exaggerated concern.
“I know you’d normally be able to handle twenty or so Blades without an issue, but you’ve been working all day, and you ain’t as young as you used to be...”
Amy broke out laughing.
Adrian joined her.
“Don’t worry, ThunderRoad. A-Bombadier will be there to pull your toes out of the fire should it become necessary.”
Adrian thought about keeping the joke going.
Instead, he decided honesty was the better policy.
“I know, Amy. Thanks.”
“Any time.”
She stretched.
“No Arena fights tonight, though. I need my rest after today.”
“We all will.”
Amy grinned.
“Think of it this way. If this works, none of us will be getting any sleep.”
Her grin widened.
“The party is going to be EPIC.”
The two-minute warning klaxon sounded, and everyone took their positions.
At the start of the round, High Point’s coalition tried a couple of feints toward the flanks. The Blades covered them without overcommitting, and after a few minutes the coalition seemed to reach the same conclusion.
None of that was going to work.
So...
Time to go straight up the middle.
One side had three guilds.
The other had Ten Million Blades.
The guild, not the actual sharp implements.
They also had a champion on their side.
And all the while, quietly and almost unnoticed, more and more WarMACs carrying the Reforged tag slipped onto the field and took their positions.
Nobody who mattered seemed to notice.
For about forty-five seconds, the main lines of the two forces simply stared at each other. Everyone froze, waiting for somebody, anybody, to make the first move.
To kick off Round Eight.
The battle that seven hours of broadcasting had been building toward.
The commentators filled the silence by pulling numbers from the graphics.
Total tonnage.
Kills.
Losses.
They probably would have offered betting odds too, if they had been allowed. Thankfully, Kelto had squashed even the hint of betting markets on non-League events.
Finally, someone on top of a hill had enough of the waiting.
They took a long-range particle cannon shot.
It missed by nearly ten yards.
They were tired.
But it might as well have been a starter’s pistol.
Freed from the paralysis that had frozen both sides, the entire front erupted. Within seconds, enough virtual dust had been kicked up to half obscure the battlefield. WarMACs charged through smoke, dust, and explosions, firing at irregular intervals at anything that crossed their path that wasn’t marked friendly.
Adrian worked his way toward the edge of the massive battle. He kept an eye out for stragglers from High Point’s coalition, targets he could put down without much effort.
But he made sure to never, EVER, present his back armor to a Blade WarMAC.
He was fairly certain they intended to use him for everything he was worth during the battle and only turn on him afterward.
Fairly certain.
There would be a lot of unpleasant consequences if he happened to be wrong even once.
With so many WarMACs packed into a confined space, it was only a matter of minutes before machines on both sides started falling.
High Point’s coalition was giving as good as it got.
But somehow, the Blades always seemed to have three machines where the coalition had two.
Two where they had one.
Slowly but surely, the numbers started painting a grim picture.
Adrian had to hand it to the High Point coalition. They could have broken, abandoned their allies, and run to save what they could.
But they didn’t.
They had even managed to work three WarMACs around the edge of the furball, and now they were making a headhunter run on the Blades leadership.
Adrian admired the attempt. He didn’t think it would change the result, even if it succeeded.
But they were still trying.
He toggled his comms.
“Blades Actual, check six. You have three unfriendlies making a run at your leadership.”
“Thanks, ThunderRoad. We see them now. Third Platoon, cut them off.”
Adrian closed the channel.
“Sorry, guys.”
He watched the Blade interceptors move.
“It was a good try.”
A pause, and a shake of the head.
“But until they actually try to stab me, I’m still on their side.”
With the headhunter attack driven off, two of the WarMACs broken and burning on the ground, the battle entered its closing stages.
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