The moment I crest its peak, I open fire on the soldiers hunkered there, spraying laser-shots at the woman manning the AA gun and the others around her. But my suit is damaged, hovering too close to the ground, and an enemy soldier manages to grab my leg and drag me lower. One of his comrades grabs the fallen antiair gun. I strain to pull away, but my suit whines and shudders, its thrust too weak. The antiair gun’s barrel aims at me.

The shot lands directly on the already-dented torso of my suit. Metal crunches around my ribs, constricting my chest in a rush of sharp pain. The suit goes limp as I crash to the ground. It’s deadweight. I can’t move, can’t fight the enemy soldiers who rush me.

Panic paralyzes me. This is what I’ve feared every time I’ve stepped into this suit: that I would end up trapped, helpless. I fire off a round from my pulse rifle, but one of the enemies pins my arm and renders it useless. Another pries the power source out from under my arm.

“I need assistance now. Now.” The communication system is still offline, but I try anyway, fear and pain cracking my voice. I cough. It’s hard to breathe, impossible to move. “Can anyone hear me? I need—”

I cut off as the soldier holding the power source hits the ground. Trapped as I am, I can barely move my head, so it’s impossible to decipher the blur of motion. With the enemies distracted, I hit the emergency release and evacuate the suit. The metal creaks open with agonizing slowness, and I climb out onto the ice, yanking off my helmet last and tossing it aside. I gulp air, each deep breath sending pain jolting through my torso. At least one of my ribs must be broken.

The wind howls around me, heralding a storm on its way. All the enemies I see are dead on the ground. One of my team members hovers nearby, suit covered in dents and badly damaged. They struggle with their helmet before managing to pull it off.

My stomach twists as the figure inside is revealed. Daniil was our sole support from above. Regardless of the fact that he saved me, him being here means the rest of the team is completely exposed down below.

“Why aren’t you at your post?” I shout at him, and his forehead creases with confusion. I know I’m not being fair. Without him, I’d be dead right now. Prioritizing his leader and the objective is exactly what he should have done. But the Sanita is starting to wear off, and my heart is pounding at the thought of the others. Magda, Sverre, Ivennie—one is already dead in the valley and the rest could be soon.

“I saw you go down,” Daniil says. “I thought—”