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Number 48


There are a number of sections in Half-Life where you are thrown into battle with the US Marines. In one particular sequence you fight them in a warehouse. I remember the first time I played Half-Life - much later on in the game's life than I should have. There were tremendous crates in the warehouse, separating it into a series of smaller squares connected by narrow corridors. There was a single entrance through which the Marines would enter - I thought I could handle that easy. I did, in fact - for all of fifteen seconds, I was an angel of death, and I killed three of them so quickly it was a mercy compared to what could have happened to them in Black Mesa. Then I heard a voice behind me, turned, was shot - the sons of bitches had flanked me! Already panicked I got ready to route them, and then I heard the high-pitched tink tink of a grenade landing at my feet.

That moment, the realization that I was fighting enemies that fought more like humans than any other enemy I'd fought as of late 2003, is why Half-Life is number 48.