Codename: Ghost

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An incredible piece of military hardware, the All1's web-like fabric was bulletproof (to an extent) and equipped with a suite of useful features. Active Camouflage was its crowning technology, allowing the exterior to change color at will. This meant I merely appeared to be a golden blur retreating through the sand dunes forking, occasionally shadowed baselines. Unseen and unheard...

As military escalation continued.

Rising gunfire began shredding nearby dunetops. I crawled steadily forward, using my display circle's aerial view to avoid developing hotzones. However, war remained somewhat unpredictable. Stray shots impacted close, raising violent puffs of sand. Combatants shifted position, forcing me to continuously adjust my stealthy route around them. The tribal rebels eventually brought forward their full complement of rocket launchers and launched devastating volleys of missiles into the Lockstep Army's forward positions. Unfortunately, by this time I was firmly embedded within those same positions. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! A few explosions struck neighboring dunetops, flinging out clumped showers of bloody sand. I was pelted repeatedly. No flinching. The ululating rebel's surged forward again, overtaking a few nearby positions and pressing closer to my own. Most concerning of all, a distant rumbling grew ever closer. Army orders were suddenly bellowed. Their mechanized units had arrived. Lockstep's famous young commander Luther Kennan (rank 2) lead them, shouting for the way to be cleared. Infantry squads scrambled out of their way. Some even slid down the dunes, skidding closeby. One group headed right towards me.

Decisions, decisions.

A rebel rocket impacted above, showering sand down upon my body. This decided me. I tumbled downslope with the rolling cascade sand, passing well before the advancing infantry. The last dangerous stretch of my retreat went smoothly...

Until I was nearly past them. "Halt!" shouted a lone soldier. "Is someone there?!"

Immediately: I twitched my fingers, signaling my All1 Sneaking Suit to flush Lockstep red and gold. I raised both arms, staggering upright. "Don't shoot!"

His rifle aimed for my upper torso. "Identify yourself, soldier! Now!"

Falling heavily onto one knee, I held a hand up to my chest (as if injured) and fumbled through my utility belt with the other. "Hold on, my ID keycard-"

The enemy came a single step closer-

I twisted left, lunging forward. A single bullet fired wide of me before I disarmed him. My firm choke-hold allowed only a desperate gurgle to escape. Brutally twisting, I snapped his neck.

Threat eliminated.

My All1 shaded back to yellow. I slipped away.

Lockstep war engines from Qaleat Al'Easifa began arriving in bulk. Armored Turtles rumbled into position up front, massive alloy plates deployed to fully shield the waiting infantry. Heavy Transport vehicles followed, disgorging more troops. Armored bikers went ROARING outwards on all sides to envelope the rebel flanks. Black scorpion tanks slowed to a halt atop dune after dune until they formed a long bristling wall of artillery. Sighting. Aiming. Firing! BOOM BOOM BOOM! BOOM BOOM BOOM! BOOM-

The inevitable rebel slaughter had finally begun.

My crawl slowed to a subtle forward wriggle. The Lockstep vanguard was now confidently advancing forward on all fronts, thoroughly scouring each dune for leftover rebels. Lieutenant General Nashville (rank 1) led them. He was a talented young killer, and the top ranked soldier in Lockstep's entire army. His elites would tear this place apart...

Crowds thickened. Close. Closer. It became impossible for me to push further to freedom. Detection became likely. Abruptly: I came to a halt, edging into the dune-bottom beside me. Boots stomped. Explosions sounded. Both caused sand to rain down, eventually burying me past any possible recognition.

Waiting.

Grim squads of Lockstep veterans marched past in waves. Distant rebels began to flee in sand buggies. Some bought time for the retreat by leading doomed counter-charges. No one saw me, although one heavy Lockstep soldier unknowingly stepped upon my gloved hand in passing.

My lips pressed harder together.

Soon: they all were past me. Clear.

I quickly wriggled out of the sand, rolling forward up into a jog. This soon took me around the final dune...

Smoke swirled. Wind shrieked. Explosions thundered.

... and my run began. Speed building. While the Lockstep Army finished today's rebel culling I was flat-out SPRINTING at 40.8 km/h off into the shimmering desert afternoon; a slender yellow ghost disappearing into mirage.

Away.