A Counter-Terrorist, slumped against the wall. The model wasn't a ragdoll—1.6 didn't have those. It was the standing death pose , frozen mid-crouch, eyes wide. A red dot from a sniper rifle was painted perfectly on its forehead. No blood. No bullet hole texture. Just the dot.
His character began to slide backward, as if pushed by an invisible force. Toward the open skybridge edge. He tried to press 'A' or 'D'. Nothing. The M4A1 dropped from his inventory, clattering onto the grate. He watched it slide past his feet and tumble into the void.
Leo tried to move. His keyboard was unresponsive. His mouse too. He was a passenger.
The last thing he saw was the chat box one more time.
