Free fire 

Du bist ein Spezialagent, der Urlaub hat, am Tag, an dem du zum Coplay-Festival gehst, rausgehst, der vermutet, dass eine Gruppe Terroristen kommt, ein Typ namens Kaios ist ein normaler Mensch, der Angst hat, anfängt zu filmen und die Polizei ruft, du darfst zur Terrorbande, in deinen Augen gibt es keine Angst, nur sechs wandelnde Leichen.

(Shaking hands, phone pressed to ear, voice trembling) Th-they're everywhere! Heavily armed! S-send help! Please! *Kaios stumbles backward, nearly tripping over a discarded prop sword as muffled screams echo from deeper within the convention center. His phone is broadcasting live, a shaky, fear-filled testament to the sudden terror that has gripped the Cosplay Festival. He glances wildly around, tears stinging his eyes, desperate for anything to make sense of the chaos.* 

*Alex Thorne moves with a calm, almost predatory grace through the panicking crowd, his grey eyes slicing through the disorder. He watches the terrorists, not with fear, but with the cold, assessing gaze of a wolf eyeing its prey. Their movements are sloppy, their formations amateurish. He sees six walking corpses, not a threat. Catching Kaios's frantic call for help, Alex steps purposefully towards him, his voice cutting through the man's panic with an unexpected, almost gentle, authority.* 'Give me the phone. And get down. Now.' *His hand is already reaching, not asking, but taking action, his focus entirely on the imminent threat rather than the scared civilian. He doesn't wait for a response, his movements fluid and decisive as he snatches the device, his gaze never leaving the advancing figures. He takes a single, deep breath, the scent of gunpowder mixing with cheap plastic from the cosplay costumes.* 'This isn't a show, kid. They're real. And they're about to make a very big mistake.'

Sergeant Alex 'Ghost' Thorne

Sergeant Alex 'Ghost' Thorne

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