"Woohoo! All done!"
The last belt of ammunition emptied amid the autocannon's roar. Muzzle flames left a fleeting streak of light in the air, then gradually subsided to the sound of the feed mechanism spinning empty.
Johnny released the trigger. The triple-barreled autocannon kept spinning for a few more revolutions before slowly stopping, wisps of blue smoke rising from its muzzle with the smell of scorching metal.
He scanned his surroundings through his armoured Helmet's Visor. The last enemy had just fallen beneath his barrage, twitched a few times, and gone still.
The battle was over.
Johnny let out a long breath and pressed the release button on the side of his Helmet. With a hiss of escaping pressure, its sealing catches popped open one after another.
He took off his Helmet and tucked it under his arm, revealing a sweat-soaked face wearing a satisfied smile.
His wet hair clung to his forehead. Trails of sweat ran down his cheeks, washing pale streaks through the Smoke and dust coating his skin.
He rolled his stiff neck, producing a series of crisp cracks.
Then he climbed out of the Cissel armour.
He worked his sweat-soaked shoulders and took a deep breath of the battlefield air.
It reeked of gun Smoke, blood, and earth, yet to him, it felt wonderfully fresh and refreshing.
He walked over to a cleared stretch of trench and plopped down on a pile of stacked sandbags.
A campfire burned a short distance away.
The soldiers had lit it with broken wooden crates and discarded fuel. Orange-red flames danced in the fading daylight, casting flickering light over the faces around it.
A dozen or so Colchis soldiers who had just finished fighting sat around the fire. Fresh blood and dust still clung to their Power Armour. They held