This story is written as a response to the Muse on Monday writing prompt for July 7, 2025: Write a story about an anachronism.

Bringing a Knife to a Laser Fight

They told us we could pick any weapon we wanted for the semi-annual battle royale. It was all in virtual reality, so no one got killed. No, the consequences were far worse than death. This is what determined our tuition for the semester.

I’ll admit, Libertarian University was not my top choice when I applied for colleges. However, they did have the major I wanted (Bachelor of Science in Success) and I was intrigued by their flexible tuition, called the Biannual Adjusted Tuition Level. I assumed the acronym BATL was just a coincidence.

It wasn’t.

Two days before the start of my first semester, I joined the crowd of my classmates as we walked into the virtual reality room of the Financial Aid office. I put on the gear and was asked to pick my weapon from a menu. I always loved the medieval era, so I chose a large knife, a dirk, in fact. I was trying to be all cool and edgy, no pun intended.

As soon as I entered the virtual battlefield, I knew I had made a mistake. Everyone else had searched the weapon menu thoroughly and looked for the weapon that did the most damage. This turned out to be Killmaster 2500 laser rifle. Everyone had one except me. I was going to die immediately and would have to pay $80,000 in tuition for the semester. I might die virtually in here, but my parents were really going to kill me.

The bell sounded and I threw myself behind a low wall as laser blasts cut the air into sizzling ribbons. My only hope was that all the laser people would kill each other, and I could come in second or maybe sneak up behind the last guy.

Suddenly there was high whine and a loud WHAM! All the laser blasts stopped.

“Hey, what gives?” someone shouted. People started to stand up from their hiding spots. They kept trying to shoot their Killmasters but nothing worked.

“Gotcha!” a tall girl shouted. “EMP grenades. I just disabled all your rifles.” Apparently not everyone had picked a laser rifle.

“That’s not fair,” someone said. “Those had a damage of 1.”

“To you, maybe,” the girl said smugly. “Not to your weapons.”

I poked someone standing by experimentally with my dirk. Their avatar popped like a balloon and disappeared. I started going around popping others and got about half before the others realized what was going on. After that I had to do some running to catch them but since the rest of them had non-functioning rifles, I got them all in the end.

“Nicely played,” the girl with the EMP grenades said before I popped her. I left her until last since she had helped me, even without meaning to. “I didn’t realize anyone hadn’t gotten a laser rifle. Thanks for leaving me until last.”

“No problem,” I said, with a grin. “Maybe we can get coffee after this.”

“No thanks,” she said. I popped her.

And that’s how I got free tuition for my first semester. I’m telling everyone I meet about my strategy. My hope is that next semester everyone will pick a knife and I’ll be the only one with a laser rifle.