In PlayerUnknown’s Battlegrounds’ default mode, it’s every person for themselves. That does not mean, however, that people don’t form alliances. It just means that they tend to end poorly, sometimes with tears.

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CamCANTRUN highlighted a moment in which he became pals with another player while they were holding down a house they’d converted into a makeshift fort. There weren’t many players left alive, and the play space—that is, the region of the map not awash in a sea of electrified death air—had become enclosed. They both knew they didn’t have much time.

Their temporary alliance began as one of necessity, but between taking shots at other players, they got to talking.

“We could be like Peeta and Katniss and just live forever in this circle,” said the other player, jokingly.

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“We could,” replied Cam. “If you want, we could make it there.”

A pause.

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“[The thing] in this game is, ‘Don’t trust fucking anybody,’” said the other guy after a moment.

“That’s fair,” said Cam. “I respect you, and I look forward to dying with you, my friend.”

“Same here,” said the other player. “Same here.”

Then, with moments left until shit invariably hit the fan, they had a pleasant conversation about PUBG’s gun physics, because video games are just really good sometimes.

“What’s your name, man?” asked Cam after they finished talking about gun physics.

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“It’s Hunter,” replied the other player.

“My name’s Cameron,” said Cam. “It’s nice to meet you.”

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At this point, there were only five players left alive, Cam and Hunter included. Then Cam took out a dude on a nearby hill. Four. Cam pointed this out and also noted that the Death Circle on the map was closing in. Hunter, in turn, said nothing. When two people are operating with the knowledge that one might have to put a bullet in the other, deathly silence is not a great sign.

“You just gonna go silent on me, Hunter?” asked Cam.

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“I don’t know what to do!” replied Hunter. “I’m scared!”

They both laughed.

Three players left. At this point, the stakes were clear: if one of them left the building, they would try to kill each other, and some rando would swoop in and sweep up the remains. Cam, though, decided to go for it. He sprinted out of the building and made it to cover behind a tree. Nobody shot at him.

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Then: gunfire. The game’s “alive” counter indicated that somebody went down.

“Oh no, Hunter!” whispered Cam. “Noooooo!”

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The guy who shot Hunter was visible. He crouched behind a car, and Cam couldn’t get a clean shot on him. Eventually, they both rushed each other and ended up playing ring-around-the-rosie with a boulder. Finally, they came face-to-face. Both sprayed fire, but when the dust settled, only Cam was left standing.

“Aaaaaaaaa,” he yelled, half-joking, but probably also a little bit serious, while firing rounds into the air. “Hunter, I miss you so baaaaaad!”

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A bittersweet victory. Hunter’s discussing wonky gun physics with angels now, that beautiful, precious soul.

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