The guy on his left looks like he could have stepped out of one of those games himself. Black tac suit and combat books, knee pads, more straps than can really be necessary and definitely more knives and guns strapped to him than any one person, strictly speaking, needs. Not to mention, of course, the metal arm catching sunlight, fingerless gloves curled around an assault rifle fitted with a grenade launcher.

He's looking down at the teeming horde, chin cocked like a dog watching a squirrel dance the can-can across its front porch.

They're people. But they aren't people. He knows how people move, how a crowd bends and bows and smells, and this isn't it.

"What are they?" he manages when Matt runs through his first clip.