FREE FIRE
The plane roared above the Bermuda map, its engines a guttural scream against the dawn sky. Below, the island sprawled like a predator waiting to devour. Fifty players, strapped into their seats, clutched their parachutes, hearts pounding. Among them was Arjun, a 17-year-old from a small Indian village, his fingers trembling as he adjusted his headset. This wasn’t just a game for him—it was a lifeline.Free Fire had become more than a mobile battle royale for kids like Arjun. In a world where opportunities were scarce, the game’s underground tournaments offered real money, enough to change lives. Arjun had trained for months, sneaking into his uncle’s cybercafé after hours, grinding ranked matches until his eyes burned. His squad—Ravi, Meera, and Sanjay—had scraped together enough to enter this illegal tournament, hosted by a shadowy group called the Syndicate. The prize? Ten lakhs, enough to pull Arjun’s family out of debt and save his sister’s life.“Ready, bro?” Ravi’s voice crackled through the headset, his usual cockiness subdued.Arjun nodded, though no one could see. “Let’s do this.”The plane’s rear door opened, and the wind howled. One by one, players leaped into the void, parachutes blooming like jellyfish. Arjun’s squad aimed for Clock Tower, a hotspot known for its loot but also its bloodshed. As they glided down, Arjun’s eyes scanned the horizon. Other squads were dropping too—Pochinki, Factory, Peak. The island was a chessboard, and every move could be their last.They landed hard on the cracked pavement of Clock Tower. Meera, the squad’s sniper, sprinted for the warehouse, her virtual avatar clutching an M14. Sanjay, their rusher, grabbed a shotgun from a crate and took point. Ravi, the strategist, scanned the minimap, barking orders. Arjun, the all-rounder, looted an AK47 and a level-2 vest, his pulse racing as he crouched behind a wall.“Two squads landed with us,” Ravi whispered. “Stay sharp.”Gunfire erupted before he finished. Bullets pinged off metal, and Arjun ducked as a grenade exploded nearby, shaking the screen. Sanjay charged forward, his shotgun booming, and took down an enemy in a panther mask. Meera’s sniper cracked, dropping another. But the third squad flanked them, their MP40s spitting fire. Sanjay’s health bar plummeted.“Revive me!” Sanjay yelled, crawling behind a crate.Arjun tossed a smoke grenade, obscuring their position, and dragged Sanjay to safety. Meera revived him while Ravi laid down suppressing fire. The enemy squad retreated, but not before leaving Arjun’s team battered. Their medkits were already low, and the safe zone was shrinking.“We can’t stay here,” Ravi said. “Head to Bimasakti Strip.”They looted what they could—ammo, a gloo wall, a pan—and sprinted toward the jeep parked nearby. The island’s beauty was deceptive: turquoise waters, swaying palms, and vibrant graffiti hid the danger in every shadow. As they drove, Arjun glanced at his teammates’ avatars. They’d chosen skins that reflected their dreams: Ravi’s elite soldier, Meera’s neon assassin, Sanjay’s street fighter. Arjun’s was simple—a default skin with a red bandana, like the one his sister, Priya, wore.Priya. The thought of her, lying in a hospital bed, her leukemia eating away at her, fueled Arjun’s resolve. He gripped his phone tighter. They had to win.
Unfold
Arjun ripped off his headset, his chest heaving. The cybercafé was silent, the other players gone. Sanjay sat slumped in his chair, staring at the floor. Meera’s eyes were red, her phone abandoned on the table. Ravi was nowhere to be seen.“We were so close,” Sanjay whispered.Arjun’s phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number: “Second place. ……
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