“Get down!” Explosions thundered through the air as Grant Anderson flung himself to the ground, heat washing over him as dirt and shrapnel soared through the air. Face down on the pavement of Gallahad, a sprawling metropolis on London II the marine desperately tried to regain his bearings as he scrambled to get behind a burnt out car. Breathing heavily Anderson rose up, grabbing an edge and pulling himself up onto his feet. Looking down the aisle or scorched white cubicles, painted with spatters of blood from the corpses which lay about them. He’d done it. All of them were dead.