Against All Odds: A Warzone Tale Dropped into Al Mazrah with a random four-man squad, things quickly spiralled out of control. We barely had time to gear up before chaos struck. I remember thinking, "If only I had two more minutes to prepare." But there was no time — the squad was down, and I was alone, running desperately into the zone under a hail of sniper fire. Suddenly, I stumbled into a live enemy squad perched on a rooftop, raining bullets in my direction. I zigzagged through buildings, armour cracked and heart racing, before spotting a beacon of hope: a Most Wanted contract. I snatched it, knowing it was my only shot at bringing the team back. As soon as I picked it up, the AI swarmed — not ideal — while I ducked and dodged to keep distance from both them and the ever-present threat of human players. Time crawled. I just had to survive. One by one, the gulag gates opened, and my teammates dropped back in. With them airborne and gearless, I made a split-second decision — ran straight into the gas to grab a loadout. It burned, but it was worth it. With weapons now in hand, we regrouped and rotated into zone, holding down a house like it was our last stand. Then the next zone shift hit — uphill and exposed. We tried to hold, but fire came in heavy, pinning us down. That’s when I gambled. I slipped out the back, took the long route, riding the edge of the gas to swing around wide. As the enemy focused forward, I flanked them from behind. One-by-one, they dropped. The final shots rang out — silence. Victory. From lone runner to last man standing, it was a win none of us expected — but one we won't forget.