After Action Report: Craig’s Wall Saves the Day
(A lie, but a comforting one)
With Craig out of action and Zaph away, we did what any responsible, battle-hardened, deeply traumatised group of Rift Breakers would do: base maintenance. Not the sensible kind, mind you. The kind where you pull on one loose thread and the entire sweater screams.
The stated goal was simple enough—ensure the base was up to snuff for the mega-apocalypse we knew would occur the moment we turned on the gate. The actual goal, as it turned out, was to discover who built the walls, why they hated us personally, and how many different ways the base could announce our imminent death.
The Western Front (All Quiet, Except It Wasn’t)
Step one: survive an attack on the Western Front.
It was like World War I, if WWI had been designed by a caffeinated goblin with a deep mistrust of doors.
“Who builds this CRAP?” demanded Myles, as we ripped out flamethrowers with extreme prejudice and replaced them with neat, orderly banks of artillery—because if you’re going to die, you might as well do it with proper indirect fire support.
“Craig,” replied Dave.
“Why are there no gates in the wall?” asked Dave, pausing mid-slaughter to engage in architectural critique.
“Ask Craig,” replied Myles, without missing a beat.
We survived the attack. Technically.
Immediately afterwards, Dave removed a section of the wall so he could loot monster corpses, because nothing says “secure perimeter” like “strategic hole for personal enrichment.”
Dave vs. The Gate (A Tragedy in Several Acts)
While Myles upgraded the Eastern wall with artillery, Dave turned his attention to powering up the gate.
First, he ripped out banks of wind turbines to make space. Then he installed magnetic stabilisers and cooling. Then it was time to build ionisers to feed the machine that produces thermal paste, because of course the gate needs artisanal, small-batch anti-overheating goo.
He flicked the switch.
Nothing happened.
So Dave did the unthinkable.
He read the instructions.
He pondered the eternal question of engineering:
“Where does this pile of leftover parts go?”
Dave pondered.
Then enlightenment struck.
“Super coolant.”
Naturally.
So he removed some walls, stripped out defences, built a plant to produce super coolant, added some water teleporter magic things, and tried again.
Still nothing.
Undeterred, Dave removed more walls, upgraded a geothermal power plant, installed a water filter, and a big arse tank for storage, then piped the water into the base like some kind of deranged plumber-demigod.
Dave stared at the screen, which helpfully listed what was required:
install magnetic stabilizers – 3 of 4
Dave counted.
There were four.
They had power – tick.
They had cooling – tick.
“ARRGGGHHHHHH!!!!”
The keyboard suffered.
Meanwhile, Elsewhere in the Maze of Regret
Meanwhile, Myles teleported to a new section of wall and immediately became trapped in a maze, trying to find his way out.
“Who builds this CRAP!!!!?” he demanded.
“Craig,” Dave replied absent-mindedly, still locked in mortal combat with basic arithmetic and the number four.
Waves, Walls, and Carbonium Bankruptcy
Another wave of monsters attacked from the South, followed shortly after by a wave from the East.
The Great Wall of Craig was looking… tired.
Smoking sections.
Missing sections.
And the constant cry from Myles:
“WHO BUILDS THIS CRAP.”
We were out of Carbonium and couldn’t afford the repair bill. The wall was dying. Dave was still arguing with magnets. Time itself felt judgmental.
It became a race:
Would the wall survive long enough, or would Dave fix the machinery first?
The Magnet Incident (Or: Polarity Is Hard)
Suddenly—a light bulb went off.
Not one of those light bulbs we had to hang all over the base to scare the energy-sucking monsters away.
A mental light bulb.
Dave turned off the magnetic stabilisers one by one to see which were being counted.
Finally, he found the problem pole.
The magnets were installed upside down.
There was a pause.
Then violence.
He ripped down the pole, sold more wind turbines, scrapped more wall sections, and installed the magnetic stabiliser in a new spot.
“Ta da,” he declared proudly as the counter clicked to 4 of 4.
The base immediately responded:
Prepare for an incoming attack.
The North Wall (A Cautionary Tale)
“Where is it coming from?” asked Dave.
“The north wall,” said Myles, already sprint-teleporting toward doom.
“Good thing we installed all that artillery and upgraded it,” said Dave.
“I haven’t done the north wall yet,” replied Myles.
There was shouting.
“Man the defences!”
“Place lightning turrets!”
“Don’t forget to unleash the tornado!”
“And lastly—WHO BUILDS THIS CRAP?”
“Craig,” replied Dave, running north.
The Base, Being Extremely Helpful
A tower has been destroyed.
“WE KNOW,” said Myles.
One of our energy connectors has been destroyed.
“WE KNOW.”
A wall has been destroyed. Oh, and our base is under attack.
“WE KNOW.”
Myles checked the map and teleported to the latest hot spot, immediately becoming stuck in a wall while being pounded by rocks.
“Who builds this crap???”
Finally—wave defeated.
North wall: smoking ruin – check.
We installed artillery.
We removed flamethrowers.
We tried not to cry.
The Gate, Take Two
At last, the day of our triumphant return to Earth arrived.
Myles switched on the power to the gate.
It powered up.
Incoming horde. Please refrain from using the gate until it is fully charged.
Not one horde.
Three.
North.
East.
South.
All was quiet on the Western Front. Suspiciously quiet.
Myles teleported North.
Dave went East.
“Who—” Myles began.
“Craig,” Dave said, cutting him off.
We fought like our lives—and the fate of Earth—depended on it.
Because it did.
The hordes ate Craig’s wall for breakfast and lunch, but it slowed them just enough that we, backed by copious amounts of fully upgraded, monster arse-kicking artillery, held the line.
Phew.
North defeated.
East defeated.
“Haven’t we forgotten something?” Myles asked.
Dave scratched his head.
“Nope. I think we’re good.”
The base disagreed.
A tower has been destroyed.
One of our energy connectors has been destroyed.
A large chunk of the southern wall has been destroyed.
“Oh yeah,” said Dave.
“The South. It’s always the South that trips you up.”
The South (Final, Absolute Chaos)
We teleported south, close to the action.
“Craig—” Dave began, before Myles could ask who built this crap.
It was frenetic.
Orbital bombardments rained from the sky.
Acid tornadoes flung monsters left and right.
Lightning turrets popped out like Christmas candy canes.
We fought.
We climbed over ruined walls.
We took the fight to the horde.
Dave ran out of grenades.
And still they came.
Victory, Barely
At long last—it was over.
The monsters defeated.
Craig’s wall a smoking memory.
The gate fully charged.
90 seconds before it went unstable.
We hoofed it.
Myles dived in.
Flash of light.
We emerged on Earth.
Roll credits.
Achievement Summary
Dave achieved: Brittle (kill 100 enemies with Crystal wall explosions)
Myles achieved: Walk in the Park (Vacation on Galatea 37 complete. Finish the campaign)
Craig – MIA
Zaph – MIA
Luckily, we saved before we powered up, so we can do it all over again with them.
And that’s a wrap, folks.
Next week: a new survival game—Icarus.
Myles has tried it already and has been killed by wolves.
Twice.
Some traditions transcend games.
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