Three bags of loot, flanked by the bio-synthetic corpses of their previous owners and pools of blue blood. The scene of my murderous victory. Their weapons, implants, heals, and salvage are all mine. Just a couple of weeks ago, I was helping random solo players take out giant robots and diplomatically sharing the spoils in Arc Raiders. However, this is Marathon, and I've left goodwill and friendliness at the door. When the atmosphere is this intense, the gunplay feels this good, and the combat sandbox is this broad, I've found it almost impossible not to squeeze the trigger on every other Runner I see.