“Watch those rockets!” “Grubs are moving!” “He’s turning around!”
The Locusts are relentless. In threes and fours they take to the field, emerging out of the ground until I can get close enough to toss a grenade down the hole. The Locusts don’t make it easy though, setting up complicated webs of cause-and-effect. Step here, get shot. Flank, and another is watching the first’s back.
And on their turn, a swarm. Luckily I can set just as deadly a trap. As the drones and wretches sprint towards my position they find a wall of bullets, a double pincer that cuts them to pieces. But even as I cut this first force down, more are emerging behind.
I sit. I stare at this moment, frozen in time—my four ragtag Gears facing down an unstoppable army. I pour myself a drink and I think it over, calmly and quietly, the way Gears Tactics demands.
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