The heat was brutal, the sand was rough underfoot, but LCpl. Zaman wouldn't have traded the moment for anything. He stood amidst the squad, each man's gear caked in a layer of dust and sweat, their uniforms no more than tan and brown splotches against the scorched earth. A distant rumble echoed across the terrain, a constant reminder of the unseen but ever-present threat. Despite the oppressive heat, a sense of calm settled over him, a sense of acceptance.

The sun beat down relentlessly, casting shadows that seemed to dance in time with the whipping of the desert wind. Zaman's eyes scanned the horizon, searching for any signs of opposition. He was acutely aware of the weight of his weapon, the feel of it against his body as though he and his rifle were one, an extension of his own limbs. Each step he took was practiced and precise, his training kicking in even in the oppressive heat. The hum of activity around him provided some comfort, a reminder that he wasn't alone in this rugged terrain.