Dark gray smoke suffused the forest air, making me feel lucky that I had a gas mask on. The visibility got worse and worse as my team and I trotted towards the colossal horror. It’s orange and red body was dozens of feet tall, constantly flickered about. The beast moved forward at a discomforting pace, not stopping for anything. It grabbed tree after tree, snapping them like twigs, then devoured them whole, leaving nothing behind. Our jog slowly faltered as we were no less than a few hundred feet away. A little too close for comfort, but it’ll have to do, I said to myself. My little set of armor seemed so pointless, and I was sweating like crazy. The gears in my brain started to turn as I observed the situation, and attempted to formulate a plan to end the monster. But, concentrating at that moment was not exactly the easiest of tasks. I snapped back to reality when I saw one of the creature’s arm lashing out toward me, almost taking down my head. Hastily, my team and I regathered to fight. We sprayed water at the beast and suffocated it with CO2 like we did with all of it’s kind, but our efforts had no effect and we were forced to run almost instantaneously. I sprinted at my top speed, running for my very life. A couple of feet behind me I heard a loud thunk. At first, I assumed it was a tree, but the faint cry brought me to a sudden stop. I spun around and almost choked when I saw a member of my team on the ground. I shouted towards the others and pointed. The gap between us closed in a matter of seconds, but time was ticking and every second was essential to our survival. The member’s right leg was stuck in a deep hole, the soil all the way to his thigh. Immediately, we all started pulling, but I was thinking what everyone else was probably thinking as well: It was hopeless. The creature was closer than ever and my teammate’s leg had not budged. I decided I had to abort or I, too would lose my life. As I ran, the guilt train did not stop. My brain urged me to go back and help, but it was fair and sad to say that there was no point, he wasn’t going anywhere. The rest of the team soon caught up to me. I saw one less team member and knew that they had failed. As I ran faster and faster, I silently mourned for yet another lost comrade. We neared the safety zone, passing over  a drawbridge that was above a 30 yard long trench. As soon as we were all through, the operator drew it back up. I collapsed on the ground, exhausted and panting along with my group. Safe, for now. Can’t say the same thing for everyone else, anymore. I thought.

That was all three months ago, back when there was hope to stop the giant. The amount of lives lost are too many to count. Now, entire teams and cities have been lost to the spreading wildfire. Now everyone is on the run, running for their lives.