... When you finally regain consciousness, you find yourself lying face down in the snow, with a long trail of footprints behind you. It seems you had collapsed from exhaustion. You find yourself struggling to flip yourself over. When you eventually do, you find several newly acquired cuts and bruises all over yourself. You quickly administer some first aid, before spending a few minutes fiddling with your radio set. But as you expect, your frequencies remain silent. On your back lies a small saving grace: a state-of-the-art imported bolt action sniper rifle, far superior to any domestically manufactured equivalent. You forgot exactly how it fell into your hands in the midst of the chaotic rout. And despite everything, part of you wished its previous owner was still alive. Your chain of command has completely broken down. Hadrian soldiers are pouring across the eastern border in their tens of thousands, and you are one of the last few things standing between them and the defenseless villages across the vast Altheimian wilderness. In the absence of further orders, you have no choice but to conduct a fighting retreat by