Elias scrambled. He selected his Barracks and slammed the 'U' key to upgrade his units. In a flash of light and a brief progress bar, his red-coated musketeers shed their smoothbore guns for rifles. The fort icons shifted from medieval keeps to concrete bunkers.
Suddenly, the music shifted. The calm, orchestral strings gave way to the frantic drums of the "Modern Conflict" track.
The battle lasted for hours. It was a tug-of-war of attrition, a dance of supply wagons and general-led forced marches. By the time Elias reached the Information Age, his room was cold, but his face was warm from the monitor's glow.
He played as the British, banking on the commerce cap bonus to fund an industrial revolution before his opponent—the AI-controlled Aztecs—could flood his plains with Jaguar Warriors.
He didn't end the game with a nuke. He knew the "Armageddon Clock" was at 1, and one more silo launch would end the world for everyone. Instead, he built the Space Program wonder.
He leaned back, his hand cramped from the mouse. History had been written, simulated, and conquered, all before school the next morning. Elias clicked "Play Again," and the world reset to the Nomad Age, waiting to be built once more.