It was just a hill covered with grass -- and corpses.
Timothy's squad was dead. He fired at blue-suited silhouettes until a grenade landed at his feet. A flash. Pain. Then darkness.
Sounds -- explosive pop of a hermetic seal splitting, wet splatter of suspension gel, flesh slapping concrete.
Timothy struggled up, naked, dripping.
"Blue has captured the point," the announcer's disembodied voice boomed.
Timothy reached for a fresh red uniform. His squadmates were already sprinting from the bunker.
"I liked it better when we played this online," he muttered.
The encapsulated clones clustered behind him answered not a word.
Postscript: To listen to audio of this and other stories, please download Season One of the I Saw Lightning Fall podcast here.