"Farming took its toll / But the orange glow remains / Death in every shot."

A single trigger pull.Three rounds bloomed like a deadly flower.The convoy stopped forever.

The wind howled across the Dust, kicking up a biting slurry of sand that scoured the paint from any vehicle brave enough to traverse the flats. Behind the jagged rocks of the Friendship Gulag, a lone assassin checked the chamber of his rifle. To many, it was just a tool; to Zer0, it was a masterpiece of Vladof engineering known as the Lyuda.