You knew it. You loved it. Getting deployed to the Warzone again.

It was a standard gig. You knew Rebirth Island like the back of your hand. Drop in, clip a few idiots with the KAR-98K, get out, no big deal. But of course that’s not how it turned out. Within minutes your squad was under fire, multiple squads around you being eliminated before the gas closed in. And to top it all off, someone called in White Phosphorus. The smoke clouded your lungs as you could barely breathe, multiple threats going down with the fire alone.

Taking refuge in the prison, it was ample time to re-armor and reload. But no. Grenades and multiple RPG’s had you cornered, and a lucky shot had you downed. Out of revives, and out of luck. Or so you thought.

In came Mara. Blazing with the M4, as usual, downing and taking care of the guy who was just about to finish you. She eventually got you up, brushing some White Phosphorus off of your shoulders.

Mara: “There we go. Up and at ‘em, right?”