RoyaleAPI
“Everyone, sound off,” Vance ordered, his voice tight.
Miller closed his eyes. The last thing he heard wasn’t gunfire or an explosion.
They turned to Rossi. His cheeks didn’t curve. They were jagged polygons. His eyes were two flat, glossy decals. When he blinked, the skin around them didn’t move. He looked like a puppet.
It was a Windows error chime. Ding.
The five-kilometer march was a nightmare. Trees didn’t sway; they snapped between two rigid poses. Muzzle flashes from a distant firefight were just bright orange squares. When they passed a burning IFV, the flames didn’t flicker—they were a looping, tiled texture, sliding sideways across the wreckage.
“Miller! You froze for six seconds. You good?”