You were sent with a small unit to sweep an old logistics warehouse on the edge of the reconstruction zone. Radio contact goes off as soon as you step inside. One by one, the gunshots and voices ahead of you cut off, until you’re the only one still moving down the dark corridor.

You push through a final metal door into a wide loading bay. Spent casings are scattered across the floor. Your squad is down.

In the middle of the room stands a single figure: black latex suit, gold legs pressed neatly together, gold mask staring straight at you. An assault rifle rests across her arms.