Rusty|Vanilla|Long|Monthly — It was a typical day in Rust. The newest member of a clan was being taught how to hunt, chase, and kill an unarmed naked that was collecting pumpkins at a river.

“They’re down! Ok, now I want you to finish them off. I want you to get some blood on your hands,” said the hunter to their apprentice.

“More like you just don’t want them to know your name!” joked one of the other clan members.

“What’s the naked’s name?” I asked.

“Elsa.” the hunter answered.

Elsa!

My blood boiled as I immediately sprinted toward Elsa’s downed body. Without saying a word, I fired a single shot from my revolver into their brain.

“Aww, what the hell? You stole the kill!” the hunter exclaimed.

His protests fell on deaf ears, as I was knee deep in human flesh and bone, smashing Elsa’s head in with my rock, hoping to collect their skull.

“Killing an innocent farmer at the river…!” Elsa exclaimed in global chat.

Elsa? Innocent?

Ten months ago – November 2019. A base had been built, the likes of which I had never seen. It was a veritable fortress built on top of an iceberg; said to be impregnable, invulnerable, invincible. Those who lived in the fortress said and did whatever they pleased, not once fearing repercussion or retribution.

Their words, arrogance, and actions attracted the attention and the ire of almost every other clan and zerg on the server. An agreement was made: the iceberg had to be destroyed, and those who lived on it would pay for their crimes. The clans put aside their differences and entered into a pact to create the largest single unified assault I have ever seen to this day.

At least 60 raiders gathered into scrap helicopters and set up raid bases on the nearest landmasses. Each group took its own position and its own angle of attack. The number of rockets they had at their disposal seemed to be infinite; each team had put all of their sulfur gathering efforts toward this raid, and there was enough boom to level the iceberg several times over.

Four hours later, it was all over. The iceberg was completely undamaged.

Elsa, the base owner, laughed and mocked the coalition of raiders for their failure.

While most people on the server were watching or participating in the siege, my own base had been raided by the one group that refused to join the coalition. I lost everything that day.

—

“You’re not innocent. I remember your iceberg! That food you were collecting is going to feed your army, isn’t it, Elsa?” I shouted in global. I was ignored.

“Does anyone know where Elsa’s base is?” I asked.

“Yeah, the base with the vending machines that say Elsa on them.” someone answered.

I traveled to the coordinates of the vending machines, expecting to see yet another unstoppable fortress base, armed to the teeth and ready to unleash war and death upon all who opposed it.

When I arrived, I was shocked and confused.

Turrets set to Peace Mode? A role-playing village? An auto repair garage, a Wal-Mart store, and tons of thematic signs and carefully placed decorations? It was a magnificent addition to the server.

I wanted to congratulate and interview the owner of this impressive village. But instead, I’d executed them while they were peacefully collecting pumpkins. What had I done?

Elsa, once an arrogant trash-talking tyrant who provoked the whole server into attacking them and cleanly defeated them all… had now become a friendly roleplay village owner, providing shops and valuable services to the community?

As I began to walk away, ashamed of my actions, I noticed a base with a standard design nearby. An ominous sense of doubt and fear crept into the back of my mind.

Maybe Elsa had changed into a peaceful roleplayer. Or maybe they’d evolved and become far more dangerous, cunning, and lethal than ever before.

If the latter is true, then I’m already dead.

Categories: People & Politics, Raids

Tags: rust