Muzzle flashes ripped through the dense indigo dusk, cutting the jungle into frantic, jagged snapshots.

Corporal Vance pressed his back against the moss-slick bark of a giant banyan tree, heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. Hot brass rained around his boots as he slapped a fresh magazine into his rifle. He had no idea who was shooting at him. One minute he was navigating the silent ruins of Sector 4; the next, a lone gunman in scorched tactical gear was trying to paint the trees with his brains.