Abandoned homes, lurking enemies, approaching footsteps … Warzone’s grim details are straight out of the horror rulebook, summoning dread from players’ ultimate need to survive
I’m lying on the roof of a bombed-out shopping arcade, watching tracer fire igniting the cool evening air about 500m from my position. Whoever wins that shootout will come my way when the fight is over. I don’t have the armour or weaponry to defend myself properly so all I can do is wait and hope they get in an abandoned car and drive right past.
Deep down, I know they won’t.