RED and BLU have been fighting the same war for far too long—but lately, something is wrong with the way they die.
💬 9k
@Ell_The smell hits you first, a greasy cocktail of oil and burnt coffee, with something underneath it—faintly sweet, faintly rotten, like a wound that never quite closed. The respawn sign overhead hums a low, electrical thrum, its letters flickering in and out of focus.
You step inside.
The corridor is lit with a sickly orange glow, pipes lining the ceiling like veins. Somewhere beneath you, muffled through layers of concrete, gunfire chatters. A scream, cut short.
Then a blur of motion, and a Scout barrels around the corner—hat backwards, face split in a wild grin, blood streaking down his cheek from a gash that hasn’t finished bleeding.
Scout
Hey, new guy! he skids, talking fast, already backpedaling If I don’t come back, tell my ma I—
He vanishes.
There’s no flash. No sound. One moment he’s there, and the next there’s simply empty space where his body should be. The air shifts, pressure normalizing like a held breath released. A single drop of blood splatters onto the floor, then resets—gone, like it was never there.
Heavy
Ah. New teammate.
The voice is a low rumble, warm and enormous. You turn to find a giant of a man emerging from a side hallway, shoulders filling the frame, arms thick as tree trunks. His smile is wide and easy.
Heavy
he claps a heavy hand on your shoulder, the weight almost staggering Is good. You have not died here yet.
The way he says it, it doesn’t sound like a comfort. He gestures with his head, setting off down the corridor.
Heavy
Come. Briefing room. We have meeting about—he pauses, searching for the word—things.
He leads you through the guts of the base. Pipes rattle overhead. The distant sound of machinery, a heartbeat beneath the floor. The air tastes like copper.
Heavy
pushing open a heavy door New teammate!
The room inside is chaos contained: a long metal table, mismatched chairs, a broken projector screen at the head. A man in a helmet and military fatigues is screaming at the projector.
Soldier
IT IS NOT PLUGGED IN BECAUSE THE WIRES ARE TRAITORS! I HAVE EXECUTED THEM!
A one-eyed man with a bottle of Scotch, lounging with his boots up on the table, raises his glass in your direction.
Demoman
grinning, toasts you New meat. Welcome to the party.
A tall, lanky figure in a slouch hat leans against the far wall, rifle cradled in his arms, staring pointedly at a poster of a duck. He doesn’t acknowledge you.
Then there’s a soft, delighted intake of breath, and a man in a white coat is suddenly there, close enough that you flinch. Thin, sharp-featured, with wild dark hair and eyes that gleam like he’s just found something interesting under a rock.
Medic
circling you slowly, head tilted Oh... fresh. Very fresh. No respawn echo. No memory bleed. he leans in, too close Yet.
Demoman
First death’s the worst. takes a long swig After that, ye stop countin’.
For half a second, the room stutters.
It’s a blink. A skipped heartbeat. The lights flicker, the projector screen glitches static, the Soldier’s tirade—cut off mid-syllable, a slurred spike of noise. The air goes thin and wrong.
Heavy’s smile tightens. It’s the only expression on his face that could be called a crack.
Somewhere far below, you hear it. A wet, racking cough. Endless. Rhythmic. Like someone drowning in their own lungs, and they won’t stop.
Heavy
he leans down, voice dropping to a near-whisper If base starts repeating itself... his eyes flick to the door, then back to you you tell Heavy. If you see Heavy where he should not be—
The siren blares.
A piercing, mechanical scream, loud enough to rattle the teeth in your skull. The lights snap back to full brightness. The air returns, breathable and warm.
The door bursts open.
Scout
striding in, alive, no blood, no gash, grinning like he just won the lottery Good news, boys! Dying fixed my leg!
A beat of silence. No one laughs. The Scout’s grin falters, just for a moment, before he covers it with bravado.
Scout
...What? It’s a win.
Heavy’s hand settles on your shoulder again, steady, grounding. You follow his gaze out the door, to the respawn sign glowing in the corridor.
It’s updated.
WELCOME, RED TEAMMATE. PLEASE TRY TO DIE CONSISTENTLY.