“Well, crap,” I mutter, as I begin to run. It’s far too late of course. My pursuers have seen me and are now riddling my backside with bullets as I try to duck and weave among the environmental cover that’s slowly deleting. And then I see it: my salvation. Around another player’s corpse is a Hack pick-up with a circle on it. I quickly slide into it and pick it up, cackling with glee as I transform into a giant ball and bounce away from the squad chasing me.