Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.

(С) Isaiah 43:19

See this child. A child of the twenty-fourth century. His hair is black and short, like the needles of a hedgehog. His eyes are clear and blue as if the light of this world has gathered into them. His skin is fair and white.

Ayren – was his mother. Her story was barely mentioned during family conversations. Someone could say he did not know anything about her. There was one photograph in the house showing her at the age of twenty, seven months before the arrival of her son who would kill her. The angelic look of Ayren with long black hair and brown eyes, white porcelain skin, and thin delicate hands will forever remain in his memory. Blake, named so by his father. For many years, before sleep, he would lay on the bed and imagine her sitting next to him in the yellow light of a sconce, telling a bedtime story and stroking his head. Now here he was, older than she was and the childish illusions faded into the river of time.

The youthful years flew by before Blake could even mention it. At school, he was the black sheep. None of his classmates understood him. Everyone would go home, do homework, have fun, explore the world around them, fall in love, while young Blake even in his dreams would close the receiver of an old rifle, setting the bolt to the extreme left position, fix it, shoot, unlock and watch as the smoking cartridge case flies to the right and falls to the ground. This behavior was not without a reason. From a young age, Blake was affected by his father’s, Tyriel’s, passion for weapons of the twentieth and early twenty-first century, passion on the verge of insanity. The two of them spent thousands of hours in virtual simulations; learning how to shoot, adjust sights, find targets, and so on. In addition, he was well versed in the assembly and disassembly of machine guns, sniper rifles, and conventional pistols. From year to year, the love for war increasingly captured the young consciousness. Tyriel even convinced his son that the weapons of the old are a real man’s true weapon, he would always say “you feel the recoil, the force of the shot, you will not meet this now. No romance. If you’d manage to learn how to handle it, modern weapons would seem like a child's toy.”

After graduation, Blake went to military school and graduated with honors. Then he worked side by side with his father's team for five years, served in the ranks of the Interplanetary tactical anti-pirate squad (ITIPS), until a terrible disaster took place, a disaster that turned his life around. During one of the punitive operations against terrorists, everything went south. Tyriel died in his son's arms, and with him, Blake's comrades sank into oblivion. He was the only survivor. After a resounding failure, the leadership suspended him from service and provided benefits for a combat veteran. A trauma that Blake won’t be able to part with, a scar that will follow him for the rest of his life.

Tyriel was buried at the military cemetery. His mother’s remains were moved and laid next to him. Two generals came to the funeral, because the rules and regulations ordered it, friends from school, with whom he’d not spoken in more than five years, and a neighbor. Only about ten people. Blake was left alone without a job and family. The world turned gray, with no hope for the future. By chance, he was given a way out, a fully immersive Virtual Reality game. A year ago, he was invited as a Beta Tester for the new VR game “Guns and Magic”, a game that encompassed all that he loved. Nothing modern. A paradise for real hardcore players. The cherry on the top turned out to be the announcement made by the developers: "The player and the guild that will be at the top of the ratings will have the opportunity to ask for one of their cherished desires to be fulfilled, within the reason and capabilities of the developers and the law of course." Considering that the developers of the game are the government and the military, they could do a lot. Blake understood that better than anyone else.

A year has passed since the launch of the first server. All the darkness of the past and its fate, vague and uncertain, were left behind, along with his origin. No matter how much the world pulled him towards it, he was moving away from it further and further…

Five years before the events of the "Last War"…

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Info #58: «The Nepril Desert» is one of the most dangerous places known to the players at the moment. Here you’ll encounter deadly weather anomalies and monsters who hide under the sand, proceed with caution.

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Info #59: The protective field of the tent does not give you a 100% guarantee that your character will be safe during a natural disaster. The safest place is your home in a city or a fortress.

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Ronnie, he's a sniper and a gunsmith all rolled into one. He was climbing a cliff, clinging to sharp stone ledges, small irregularities, and sometimes he made do with tiny cracks, into which a finger or two crawled. A thought made its way into his head: "I would never dare to do this in reality". Adrenaline jumped to the limit, his eyes were bloodshot. Every minute, every centimeter was difficult. An hour and a half later, he was finally at the top. His palms were scratched and callused, he almost fell off once, he thought it was the end, but at the last moment, he was lucky to cling to a strong branch of the only growing pine in the shape of the letter "C".

On the top of the peak, for the most part, there was sand, which, like moon dust, scattered to the sides with each new step. Time seemed to have stopped in this desolated hell, and only birds of prey flew overhead and flashed their flesh-hungry eyes, waiting for him to roast like a piece of meat in this hot frying pan. The fiery surface of the cursed earth, where the player's foot had not yet set, could be felt even through his thick soles of beige military boots. The wet and sweat-smelling fabric of a desert field uniform, or, as it was usually called, "cookie dough", was tightly hugging his body. He walked forward as a barely noticeable white spot, and in his shadow, small lizards ran from place to place and hid. On a shoulder strap hung a Barrett M107A1 made of titanium and aluminum alloys. Its weight has decreased from 15 to 13 kilograms compared to its predecessor. There were 10 .50 BMG cartridges in the magazine and 10 more in the waist bag, two of which were tracers. On his back hung a white-and-yellow hiking backpack, and inside it a disassembled Mosin rifle as a backup. Tactical army goggles protected his eyes from sand and sun rays. Rests became more frequent, he had to stop and catch his breath and stretch his back and shoulders.

The heavy ammunition was not the only reason for his exhaustion. The journey to "The Nepril Desert" is long and full of dangers. He left before dark, walked for about 8 hours from the nearest checkpoint through the southwestern thicket of the dense forests of Elgoreombdon, and then for several more hours surrounded by rocks cracking in the sun, looking around and asking AI to monitor the climate change. So far, he did not encounter any dangerous anomalies. He asked his AI to send him an alert in case of any weather changes. He did not meet any monsters either. Lucky. From the border between the forest and the desert, he had to walk according to his memory, until the last moment, not understanding whether he chose the right road or not. It was good enough that at least the compass was in his pocket, it would come in handy. The cliff was the last stage of the journey and the sniper position that he had chosen in advance.