Your back is soaked with sweat, pressed to the side of a dumpster. Spent shell casings bounce with the sound of metal rain. Your feet kick out, pushing you as flat as possible against the cover. In one of those strange moments of clarity, mimicking conversation, the alleyway goes quiet. The wasted clip hits the concrete with an empty clang, echoing through the haunting silence. You’re reloading. Your teammates are reloading. So are the others at the end of the alley. In the ringing of your ears, you hear frequencies, echoes of gunshots acting as percussion. Atmospheres that have never existed before. Melodies that sound otherworldly. You realize, as your heart slows down, that you are smiling.
This is the experience given to you by The Scythian. In this world, in this block war, he is every gun. Every scream. Every ricochet. He is the inevitable rain that comes to wash the blood from the streets, and cool those who survived. The storm and the calm. He conveys this all with a clarity and eloquence that will grab you and never let you go.
Listen, reload, and enjoy.