As the flickering screen continued to bathe Nolan's face in its pale glow, the cries of panic behind him finally broke through the thick wall of nostalgia and tension he'd wrapped himself in. He blinked. Then turned.
Some of the students just died.
"No! No! Damn it—move! It's—argh! My body cannot escape! Wahhh!"
Some were tired of playing and were just cheering for their classmates.
"Calien, you can do it! Shoot the tank! Shoot the tank!"
Some are still playing.
"I did! It doesn't work!"
Of course, individually…
"We're gonna get wiped again—"
Nolan slowly swiveled in his chair, peering over his shoulder at the frantic chaos unfolding among his students. Their bodies were stiff with stress, their fingers white-knuckled around their interface controls, eyes wide and bloodshot.
With a smug grin tugging at the corner of his lips, Nolan cleared his throat.
"So…" he began, his voice cutting into the frenzy like a scalpel. "Giving up now?"
