It was just an average day for Private Carl Barton and his Bernodi comrades. Well, it was average compared to what they went through every day. They were stationed in the unnamed desert said to be full of resources. Their mission? Defend a cluster of refineries extracting precious oil from an underground reservoir. The Jekotians were close; they expected contact in one hour. It was an average day for the Jekotians as well. They were conducting a final tank check before they engaged the Bernodi to capture their resources. Everything was going o be like the day before. The Jekotians well attempt another raid, which will fail, but they will pull out with most of their infantry and tanks to prepare to do the same thing the next day. Carl looked out into the desert. He loved the calm and relaxing feeling it gave him before he had to go into battle. He turned his head down and looked at the rifle he was issued. He specifically asked for the rifle with the bigger magazine, and he got it. He, like many of his fellow riflemen, were not very good marksmen, often emptying an entire magazine to take out one enemy. But it worked, and he was still alive, and that’s what matters. “Leave the aiming to the snipers” he and his friends often joked. After inspecting his rifle one last time, checking all the parts moved smoothly and beautifully, Carl looked back at a different desert. Maybe the sun was brighter today, he thought, but why is everything so much brighter? He could barely see the tree that was just 50 yards away from him. “This is going to be an obstacle”, he said to himself. “Everyone to battle stations! hostiles incoming.” The PA system in the camp notified everyone when they were supposed to go out and fight. Carl ran to his designated bunker while looked down at his gun. “Shit” he thought to himself, he must have accidentally picked up someone else’s gun because the one he held in his hand had the shorter magazine. “It’ll do for now” he reasoned, there was no time to go back and find his gun. The Jerokians seemed a lot slower today, and there tanks were often running into each other. The whole seen reminded him of drunken drivers who couldn’t turn their car fast enough. He laughed as he inspected his selector switch and prepared to turn it. “Safe, Semi, 3Burst” he said as a habit. Wait… 3Burst? Didn’t all their guns have full auto? He didn’t receive any notice of new rifles with 3burst instead of auto. The whole thing reminded him of a fictional planet where a country called the “United States” released a new version of their rifle, the m16a4, because their soldiers were wasting too much ammunition in the “Vietnam War”. He also noticed that his pistol did the same thing. "Machine Pistol" was inscribed on the stock. He wondered who named the pistol and how stupid can they be. Just because a pistol shoots in bursts doesn't make it a machine pistol. He knew all this stuff from taking weaponology in High School, and was really pissed off when people use incorrect terms such as mixing up "magazine" with "clip". "Carbine Rifle" was inscribed on his rifle. Even more stupidity he thought to himself. What he held in his hand was a full rifle, not a carbine. He didn’t have any time to complain, so Carl just accepted it and lined up his sights to prepare for the incoming hostiles. He started shooting as soon as the soldiers came out of their APC. No one seemed to be dying. “WTF” he thought to himself, “I’m pretty sure I hit that guy at least 5 times”. His friend Jack, a grenadier, just finished off the enemy APC and started shooting his mortar at the enemy infantry. Carl was amazed, Jack got kills left and right. “Nice Shot” Carl yelled to Jack after the grenadier blasted a group of 4 Jerokians. “I’m out of ammo!” Jack said as he ran towards their ammunition box. Carl noticed something strange happening to Jack as he picked up more mortar shells. Jack seemed to be vibrating on the ammo box. Suddenly, Jack just died for no apparent reason. Everyone was confused, so their commander ordered all infantry to keep at least 2 feet away from an ammo box when you need ammo. “This is ridiculous” thought Carl, as he continued to attempt to mow down enemy troops, when he noticed his rifle shot way slower. Another problem... BONK! Carl heard something hit his helmet. He had just enough time to notice a little metal ball fall off his helmet. He picked it up. It was a metal bb, the kind that he used to go hunting with. BONK! Again something hit his helmet. This time, Carl noticed it came from a sniper on a nearby hill. “What is wrong with this world", he thought to himself. “The enemy are retreating!” the PA system broadcasted. As the horns of the last APC faded, Carl reviewed the chaos that was today’s battle. His rifle was completely transformed so it was almost completely useless. His friend Jack died a meaningless death. The desert no longer had its calm and relaxing feeling; it literately glowed with hostility and unfriendliness. All the tanks where horribly hard to drive now, and it seemed as if all the drivers were drunk. He closed his eyes as he silently wished today never happened.