On the desolate ruins of Dust2, I wandered beneath a sky suffocated by smoke grenades. The echo of footsteps around the bombsite was not merely the sound of men, but something older, something hungering. I fired blindly into the shadows, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I saw not a foe with rifle in hand, but a writhing form, inhuman and unspeakable, its eyes glowing through the haze. My teammates laughed through comms, unaware of the horror that clutched the map itself. To this day, I do not know if we lost that round—or if we merely delayed an inevitable, greater defeat.