In a higher place us, the moon. Beneath us, the World. In forepart of us, a massive, three-story belfry. Overlapping bleeps and bloops accentuate the eerie calm. We're blasting off into orbit, and you might know where nosotros're headed. Never before, nor since, has Capture the Flag been so much fun.

For the uninitiated, here'south a petty fleck of context: Unreal Tournament drew first blood on the PC in 1999, with a fanciful, science fiction tone and peculiarly gory splatters. The game focused its efforts on online multiplayer—there was a single player entrada, but beyond using it to learn the controls, few players paid attending to information technology.

Every bit for myself, I was too busy teaming upwards with my college roommates, squaring off against other dorms on our school'southward LAN. And although nosotros explored every game type and mod of the multiplayer (from Assault to Aught Gravity), nosotros eventually settled on two game types that we enjoyed above all others, two types that tested our reflexes, skills and teamwork.

The starting time was the Instagib Deathmatch—an every-man-for-himself, one-shot kill gorefest. Instagib was reliant on impulsive, twitch reflexes—the ability to aim your cursor with accuracy and click the mouse button a little faster than your opponent. The all-time thing virtually these early on first person shooters was the lack of realism—there was no 'natural shaking' to your reticle, and your accurateness was completely your own.

Only Instagib was the mere titbit for the larger repast. My suitemates and I used it as a warmup for our favorite mode, which combined reflexes with deep strategy.

This was Capture The Flag:

  • Stride 1: Fortify the Flag in your base.
  • Step 2: Shoot your way into your opponent'due south base.
  • Step three: Steal your opponent'southward Flag.
  • Stride 4: Hightail it out of in that location, while your teammates cover you.
  • Step 5: Make it all the style back to your own base, without dying, to score a point.

It was team versus squad. It required articulate, transparent communication to earn a win—this usually involved us yelling across the hall to i another. And every bit a dorm suite, we played 1 map, almost exclusively—Facing Worlds, a level designed by game developer Cedric Fiorentino. It was so well-designed, so carefully constructed, that every other CTF map paled in comparison.

The structure was this: There were ii towers, which served as each respective team'southward home base. Each tower was three stories loftier, plus the roof, which might technically count as a fourth floor. If yous walked into your squad's tower through the front entrance, the layout was fairly uncomplicated.

To your correct, shielded by a unmarried wall, was your flag, which you had to protect at all costs.

To your left, closest to the door, was a teleporter, which took you to the second floor.

To the right of that, nearer to the flag, was a 2d teleporter—this one took you to the third flooring.

And, straight ahead of you, behind the front wall, was the third teleporter, which led to the tower's roof.

Lastly, a long narrow pathway, with a pigsty cut out in the center, separated the two towers. This pathway inclined on both sides to class a meridian at the center of the map—in other words, if y'all were to charge your enemy'southward base, you would run uphill for the first one-half of the trip. And then, once you reached the midpoint, you would race downhill to reach the opposing tower.

Layout wise, that's nigh it. Facing Worlds was very much a 'what yous encounter is what you lot get' sort of bargain. But its elegance was in its simplicity—petty, subtle things made this map as exciting as anything we'd ever played.

First, the peaked quality of the pathway created a massive bullheaded spot. Y'all could, theoretically, use the translocator to transport yourself into mid air and meet over the peak. But most of the time, every bit a basis attacker, yous had no idea what was waiting for you on the other side. And when you lot finally did crest over, you often wished you hadn't. Also, as a footing defender, you didn't see your assailant until he or she was correct on tiptop of you. It was a double-blind circumstance that promoted reactive, 'on the fly' playmaking.

The just mode to reliably meet the entire map was to stay in your defending tower, and set up a sniper's nest on the second floor, third floor, or roof. And once y'all got up there, you rarely wanted to come dorsum downward. What a view. You could see the entire terrain—all the style back to your opponent'south tower. Other CTF maps were non and then open—they had closed=off corridors, twisty turns, and multiple inclines/declines to get to and back from your opponent'due south base.

This broke the tension essentially, because at some signal, yous would be 'condom.' Take the Gauntlet map, for instance. If you stole the flag and and so killed your opponent, he or she would respawn at a different location. Past that point, you'd exist halfway back to your dwelling base of operations. Thus, in a map with closed, winding corridors and no bird's eye view, all it took was one mistake to end a match. Certain, it could exist fun, but information technology was too short, and it usually felt like mayhem—running, gunning, and hoping for the best, rather than true strategy.

On Facing Worlds, the map was so open, and so sprawling, that you were always in danger. Your belfry enemies had loftier footing and scoped sniper rifles—there was zip between yous and their line of vision, regardless of where you were on the pathway. Facing Worlds was a sniper's paradise, and it was deliberately built to be and then. In most scenarios, 'camping ground' was the but viable strategy to defend your base; you climbed on the roof and shot anything that moved with extreme prejudice. Expert snipers turned Facing Worlds into a lengthy battle of attrition—a match could last for over an hour if everyone decided to crouch down and play defensively. The game rewarded your good aim with some of the all-time congratulatory voiceovers in gaming. A deep-pitched, rumble of a vox pronounced how awesome you were in no uncertain terms. HEADSHOT. MULTI Kill. ULTRA Impale. M-M-M-Thousand-MONSTER KILL!!

If you decided to brave the outdoors and cross the map, your options were limited. You could try hopping up and down like a bunny rabbit, to make yourself a little chip more unpredictable. Just your best offensive and defensive weapon was actually your Translocator, which immune you to teleport, Nightcrawler style, to wherever you threw it.

This video shows professional person gamer Se7en, who uses the Translocator on Facing Worlds to stunning effect. Take a await:

Of course, even nether the best circumstances, you lot still had to worry nearly sniper nests and enemy basis troops equally you came over the crest. There were no heroes on Facing Worlds—everyone needed to work in conjunction to exist successful, and no teammate could be spared. In that location were just likewise many moving parts, and too many things with the potential to go wrong.

Still, there was fourth dimension for some shenanigans. My favorite trick was to hide and snipe in my opponent's tower—how many people could I kill before they figured out what I was doing? The opponent's tower was also a bully identify to hide after stealing the flag—no i expected yous to hide rather than run, and your teammates could take out the majority of the enemies before y'all made your fast break for habitation.

And who could forget the Redeemer? On the second flooring of both towers was a manually-guided, nuclear warhead bazooka. If y'all were on the receiving end, you lot could see this damn matter when it launched from across the map. You could endeavour shooting information technology out of the air, but your hands shook equally the warhead inched closer, and closer, and closer, before exploding in a pixelated mushroom cloud.

Information technology'southward been years since I've played the original Unreal Tournament, but it still comes dorsum to me in strange means. I've recently begun watching soccer, and I love the roar of the oversupply and the announcers' reactions whenever there'due south a goal. Unlike in a high-scoring game like basketball game, a goal in soccer is a rare occurrence. Soccer is defensive by design, and so the excitement and suspense just builds. And builds. Until finally, the picayune mistakes pile into big ones, the home squad scores a goal, and everybody loses emotional control.

Facing Worlds had the same type of slow burn down—countless hours of restless stalemate punctuated by sudden bursts of adrenaline. I still miss those highest of highs, when I charged across the map and crested over that incline, rocket launcher in manus, ready for whatever my opponent was going to throw at me.

Republished with permission. This article was originally published on November 24, 2022. Guest author Kevin Wong is an AP English teacher and freelance writer from Queens, NY. His focus is on video games, American pop culture, and Asian American issues.You tin follow him on Twitter.