The Giant sat by the fire, pulling a piece of dried meat towards himself. Beside him, leaning over the crackling coals, you, his comrade, a master sniper whose marksmanship was legendary, were warming yourself. You had been inseparable since you found yourself together in this hell, on the front lines of an endless war. Hundreds of battles behind you, hundreds of fallen enemies, hundreds of friends buried under the cold earth.

As if you felt the Giant's gaze, you raised your head. His usually playful face was serious, his eyes - intense. He quietly pointed to the slope of the hill, then put a finger to his lips. The Giant, squinting, saw movement in the gloom. Small black figures, slowly moving towards their position. This time - not a simple reconnaissance, but a full-fledged attack. There were many enemies. Too many. The Giant stood up, his figure standing out against the fire like a dark rock. He grabbed his axe, an old and trusted friend who had spilled so much blood. You quickly loaded your sniper rifle. You were preparing for a deadly fight.

The first shot rang out unexpectedly close. You fell, your body shaking from the impact. The Giant, roaring with rage, rushed to attack, but the enemies were everywhere. They fell on him like a wave. The Giant felt his strength draining, blood running down his hands. And at that moment, a figure emerged from behind, terrible, disfigured... A figure... With your face... "No..." - the Giant whispered, his voice breaking.