Russian summer merry war game

The space is lurking somewhere around being imbued with the presence of the enemy, that is with something, that turns into an indefinite, infinitely hostile and dangerous atmosphere, revealing itself only at the moment when, reveling in its observational ingenuity, it opens fire, and takes on a personified appearance from time to time in a form of those faceless camouflage figures which are moving in short runs from one shelter to another or are sticking out the barrel of a rattling rifle from their temporary refuge, trying not to stick their heads out.
With rapture and confidence, as if you have already done this dozens of times, you are inhaling the adrenaline dissolved in the air, when, feeling a keen sense of danger pounding in your temples, you are runnimg up the stairs to the second floor of a wooden building, without receiving a single shot from the enemy, who probably have been waiting for you for a long time, prudently lying in ambush and keeping the place of lifting at gunpoint. And then in such a happy symbiosis between your legs and head, when neither of them slows down the other, you are moving in short runs from one inner corner of the building to another, keeping in your mind the way the perspective is changing and from what points of the suddenly opened space you may unexpectedly meet a stone-cold gunfire directed at you. At the very moment when the player in you is turning the next corner, the space is revealing a kind of mystery of the perspective to you, and while quickly grasping intuitively this secret of each next fragment of topography unfolding in front of you, you are outlining the safest places from the shelling point of view, while the most promising points for observing and setting future targets are the most vulnerable at the same time.
Oh, but why can’t the space at this moment, at your desire, bend and, exactly from your side, get out of control of the laws of physics, sending the enemy’s killing balls somewhere deliberately past the target?
Your ears should remain sensitive enough all the time to pick up the sound of someone else’s creeping steps, since after another careful glancing for the corner you can find there the similar figure as yourself, that will retreat instantly behind the shelter of the previous corner and rattle with his rifle threateningly to you, and then, suppressing in a hurry the overwhelming feeling of superiority since you will read this semblance of your own reflection like an open book, you will do all the same, directing your own killing balls to his arm with a rifle sticked out, bringing you death and disappearance.

You may follow and like me