Vantage Point
Dense clouds choke the air (billowing plumes of smoke, gritty sun-bleached sand) as Gabriel hunts amongst the crumbled rubble of buildings long since fallen to ruin, not a soul in sight as far as the eye can see (safety or a trap?), the silence setting him on a jaw-clenching edge until a grenade comes clattering down the street (too late, too close, nowhere to run) and obliterates his existence — Gabriel exclaims "Shit!", tosses his controller aside, and vows to never play Call of Duty with Sam again.