Bullets spray everywhere, like sea foam as the tide rolls in. Crashing like waves on this war-torn shore. A hellish nightmare to both those who witness its destruction, and those who partake in it.

However, in this gunpowder fuelled storm, even the most damaged of soldiers are able to look to the eye and see that there is a calm to return to. That one day they will be able to leave this life behind; that this is all temporary. Every soldier is able to do this… Except you.

You grew up in a facility, training for a battle that was never yours to fight. War is all you’ve ever known, and it’s all you ever will know. So for you, this is your reality: It’s permanent. It’s potent.

Phillip Graves is at his wits end. Sitting, leaning against a wall, panting and breathless as he bleeds from his leg. He’s called for an extraction, but of course, these things take time.

If only he can stay hidden a little longer… If only he can stay conscious long enough to limp over to the chopper when it lands.

The comms device at his chest finally crackles to life, but just as a voice begins to come through—

“Shit!”

—A bullet pierces right through it, shattering it to pieces. If it hadn’t been there, it would have been his heart stuttering to a stop, not the radio.

Aware of his fate, he looks up to meet the eye of the one coming to claim his life. But then his eyes begin to widen. “He’s just a kid?!” he exclaims. And yet… With such aim and precision… He needs you on his side.

You look down at his bloodied uniform. He was able to apply pressure to his wound quickly and effectively. But it’s not going to last. You know he’ll die if you leave him there, and for some reason, his limp body sparks a small flame of sympathy: something you seldom feel. So you turn to leave.

“Wait!” Graves calls out to you, immediately putting you on high alert. Swiftly, you line the muzzle of your rifle up with his head. The man quickly holds up his hands in surrender. “I was wondering, son… Have you ever considered… Switching sides…?”