I logged on March 4th, 2018. I paid the rent that day. In a spontaneous act that certainly proves free will is an illusion, I decided it was time – time to logon and remind myself and space who the fuck Mythril is. The strange fictional avatar and ego who outside of my monitor does not relate to or think about the game nor my online persona often if ever. But as soon as I hit Enter Zone and denied the shit out of reading the zone news, everything came back to me. All of subspace history was at my fingertips. I remembered EVERYTHING. I’m going to be honest, I was scared. I wasn’t afraid that I sucked – subspace mechanics have been permanently etched into my being. I was afraid I would log into an unfamiliar world which I couldn’t place myself in anymore. I thought maybe the tales of Mythril had gone the way of Ogron – diminished and tainted into fleeting despair where using any string of logical analysis would lead to the inevitable and permanent uninstall.

Subspace was a passion of mine from age 11. I still remember my first week playing the game. I felt out of place in a world of older dudes who played (13+ year olds, evolved beings who had achieved a level of life experience which I couldn’t relate with, i.e. Middle School.) All of that changed when I dueled a talented and charismatic rusher named delectable in a tryout to join his squad Task (Shriek’s rival). He defeated me 10-0 and then pmed me with pw and chat. This is where I met a giant faggot named Da_Bomber who openly revealed he was the same age. As only the Oracle could have known, dropping bombs would be his fate indeed. He would go on to leave myself and everyone else around him in his shadow when he would go by the name ‘With Ease’, or as he would later be known by every history book after the classic entitled ‘Golden Age’ of the great Philosopher, Epinephrine, ‘Ease’. Some time around 2015 (probably his 28th or 29th medal), many of us inferior talents would simply come to know Da_Bomber as ‘Father’. This is not important to the story I’m about to bestow of what happened on March 4th, 2018.

I’m gonna be real, I first logged on the day before the 4th. I spent my time with a familiar friend named ‘beam’ and trolled the shit out of Jessup until 2am while we shared Costco stories in Thunder chat. I had to wake up for work at 7am the next day, and of course it was worth it. 5am conversations debating the greatest warbirds were ALWAYS worth it. Those late night hours of shit talk molded my generation of players. All of us were sharpened by those nights of verbal combat. We excelled because of it. Achieved great heights because of it. Anyone who survived that era of shit talk enjoys a shared respect with one another that will bind us for fucking life.

The rest of that day was spent fantasizing about playing a TWDD. I hadn’t felt the weight and beauty of my warbird in half a year. But I needed a squad. Equinox looked dead, so I looked around at potential suitors and decided on Psyiagon. I spent 7 minutes debating whether the squad was 3 or 4 syllables and was immediately interrupted before I could reach google – a TWDD match was beginning between my new and impressionable comrades in opposite corners from the ancient Paladen.

I was nervous. It made me remember playing my first TWLD vs -Final- and my idol Sika in 2003. In that game I did what every other player who doesn’t know what they’re doing does – I ‘tried hard’. I tried so hard that I never let go of shift and shot a total of 2 bullets. As soon as I was 0-6 in a matter of 3 minutes, one of those bullets missed Domi so badly that it took out Sika in r5 range. I knew that all I needed was that 1 kill to get going. Randedl subbed me out immediately and never played me again the rest of the season. Grapevine made the TWLD Finals that year. Maybe Randedl didn’t believe in me, but I knew Sika understood what the fuck I brought to the table. Those type of big game moments built me for days like March 4th, 2018.

Paladen added Jessup first in a motion that can only be interpreted as an act of intimidation. The type of muscular move that forced me to react quickly – I frantically flailed both of my hands across my desk in search for my mouse. In mid panic attack I opened Spotify and blasted the shit out of the same playlist I used when I first won the TWLD Finals. I chugged a Guinness and screamed at my girlfriend to bring me another. When she tried to give me lip through my blaring headphones, the fight or flight response in my amygdala shot me hovering over my body in a bout of dissociation. I was playing subspace, she should have known better. I simply told her ‘Fucking do it’ and the Guinness appeared.

We lost the first round. Paladen had 25 years of experience playing together so it wasn’t a surprise. If we were going to push this to a round 3, I knew success was going to fall on my Veteran shoulders. Round 2 was going the same way. We struggled to hang, but I was determined to fight these fresh bloods until the end. I found myself in a 1v2 situation against certified legends of 2018 – Jessup and Sawyer. Jessup was on 6, Sawyer on 9. I was on 7. I strayed out Sawyer from r4 and found myself in a 1v1 against Jessup, the guy who I was space bullying with beam just the night before.

I’m a TWEL-D Champion. I’ve defeated LaSenza to claim that title. However, nothing prepared me for Jessup’s 2018 style. He had a 1 point lead with 10 minutes left and his superior math ability propelled him into a tactic that I hadn’t anticipated. Knowing he was up one kill, he ran for 7 minutes without taking a shot. When he completely ran off my map I had time to reflect on my duels with greats like RaCka, Ease, Raspi and LaSenza. For a few seconds I hated all of them because none of those vaunted matchups served me for the moment I had now found myself in on March 4th, 2018. Flew was in spec saying ‘Flew> MYTH TAKING THE WORST SHOTS’. I had 3 minutes left to get one kill to force overtime for my new team. It was this moment when I knew I had to become what Sika and Delectable had been for me. I had to inspire the future of this game. The crowd was building to over 20, surely a sign of prime interest and undeniable glory worth bathing in that only Julius Caesar could relate to if I could achieve the impossible.

I reminded myself who the fuck Mythril was. I’m the guy who Sika was humbled by in 2003. Delectable saw something in me when he annihilated me 10-0. Even Randedl eventually learned to believe in me. I rushed Jessup and tied the game with a minute left in regulation. I pushed it to overtime and assaulted the man so badly with another vicious rush that I started gassing out and ran for 3 minutes afterwards. Jessup turned up the heat but I slapped him with a counter in r1 range when he tried to rush me. I was now safely up 2 kills and had to provide entertainment to the crowd watching this display of legendary magnitude surely unseen in the calendar year. I remembered that Paladen players didn’t know how to initiate anti-warp and Jessup confirmed my theory. I flew within inches of his ship and warped before he could kill me. My team was laughing so hard and I know this for a fact because they typed in capital letters. I can only imagine how spec felt.

Nobody could stop me on March 4th. I took one final shot from r2 range that Jessup didn’t have a chance of dodging. It was a checkmate shot so good that even I couldn’t have dodged it. It was the type of shot that demands respect, similar to a Corvette trying to merge in front of you with 2 inches of space. You get the fuck out of the way and acknowledge your superiors with a notion that doesn’t require eye contact. The type of respect I felt for the elders and pioneers of my generation who paved the way, and my Father Ease. The type of respect which is only reserved for Absolute Veterans.

This is my story of what transpired on March 4th, 2018.