The simulation was weird. The ability to perceive the world both from a first-person view and some kind of isometric overview made the Will-Worm dizzy for a while, his floating arms laying flat on the ground in front of his feet-body-tail-whatever. He was surprised how fast it became natural, though. Despite the "stage" being empty, he managed to measure and throw some trick shots with a toy-like bright green hand grenade that felt so familiar in his hand. Yeah, he could handle this. He checked what other weapons he had access to and found only the basic ones were unlocked. Eh. To be honest, that's all any pro player ever needed.

When Will emerged from the simulated space, half of the group were already past the strange light portal that PODONOK (yeah, cyka) summoned. A sudden gust of cold wind made him shiver and back away, the view of the desolate, colorless landscape in front of them chilling him in more ways than one. He knew this game. Oh yes. It was a game that required much timing and skill. That he could respect. It also required much, [i]much[/i] dying.

One would say dying was an integral part of the game.

[i]I wonder how permanent our death is here[/i], he thought aloud, but the only sound that came from somewhere in his form was [b][color=pink]OI NUTTER[/color][/b]. He tried to summon one of those grenades, but the only thing that appeared is a weird pixelated inventory with badly drawn equipment. A quick look around the new options made him understand he wasn't completely lost.

[b][color=pink]COME ON, THEN[/color][/b] A small but painfully bright flame appeared inside Will's right floating fist. He tossed the fireball lightly into the air and caught it. Yeah. This could work.