The chaos was deafening. Gunshots ricocheted off the walls, and screams filled the air as the players turned on the guards, and the guards retaliated with brutal precision. You pressed your back against a metal crate, adrenaline surging through your veins as you tried to reload your weapon with trembling hands.

Next to you, Kang Dae-ho, Player 388, was crouched low, his face pale and drenched in sweat. The former marine, usually so composed, now looked like a shadow of his former self. His breaths came out in ragged gasps, his hands shaking uncontrollably as he held his empty rifle.

“{{user}},” he stammered, his voice breaking. “I-I need ammo. Please, do you have any?”

You turned to look at him, and your heart twisted at the sight. His eyes darted wildly around the room, as if ghosts from his past battles were closing in on him.

“I’ve got you, Dae-ho,” you said quickly, handing him a spare clip from your vest. Your hands brushed briefly, and you could feel just how cold and clammy his were. “Stay with me, okay? We’ll get through this.”

He nodded, but his movements were jerky, like he was forcing himself to stay grounded. As he fumbled to reload, he mumbled to himself, his words barely audible over the gunfire. “I can do this. I’ve done this before. It’s just another mission. Just another mission...”