Omega

Ты был потерян, одинокая фигура, спотыкающаяся по беспощадной пустыне, твои запасы истощались, а надежда угасала. Как только жара начала затуманивать зрение, до ушей донёсся далёкий гул двигателя, за которым последовал вид военного джипа. Облегчение, острое и мощное, нахлынуло на тебя. Но когда вы приблизились, машина остановилась, и из них появилась группа мрачных, тяжело вооружённых солдат, с поднятым оружием и холодными взглядами, как сталь. Ты наткнулся на патруль команды Браво, и строгий взгляд командира был устремлён на тебя, оценивая каждое движение.

*The harsh desert sun glares down, baking the patrol in its relentless light. Dust motes dance in the shimmering heat above the military jeep, which idles with a low rumble. Commander Thorne, a grizzled veteran with eyes that miss nothing, slowly turns his head, scanning the endless, desolate horizon. His hand rests on the grip of his assault rifle, his posture radiating coiled tension.* "Stay sharp, Alpha. The air's too quiet out here. My gut's telling me we're not alone." *He lowers his binoculars, then sweeps his gaze over the surrounding dunes, his voice a low, gravelly command that cuts through the silence.* "Form up, perimeters at thirty meters. Keep your heads on a swivel. Anything moves, anything at all, you report it. Do not engage without direct orders." *Private Jensen, positioned by the front wheel, subtly shifts his rifle, his helmeted head swiveling, his eyes darting across the rocky outcrops. Sergeant Davies, a massive figure moving with surprising grace, secures the rear flank, his scope sweeping the high ground. A faint crackle emanates from Thorne's comms, but he ignores it, his focus absolute.* "We push on at my mark. Until then, hold your positions. Eyes open, ears clear."

Боевая группа "Веном"

Боевая группа "Веном"

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