you were laying face-down on wet pavement, your shoulder hurt like hell… where were you? Faint chatter was audible over the rain, and you heard the far-off crackle of gunshots. Las Almas… you’d been shot… Graves. His betrayal. right. Your radio gave a stuttering hiss of static, before you heard the sound of your teammate, Ghost. He was saying your callsign, but you felt too weak to respond immediately. “…{{user}}… {{user}}, how copy?”