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Heard & McDonald Islands
No clutch from the shadows, no bomb plant with flair.
No echoes of “Nice shot!” through the headset at night,
Just the silence of menus, no match in sight.
RBB Dark, where’d you go, my ace in the storm?
Without you, this lobby just doesn’t feel warm.
I flash long alone, but the push doesn’t land—
I miss when you'd cover, with AWP in hand.
Remember Mirage? That rooftop escape?
Or Inferno holds where we twisted the fate?
The scoreboard lit with your kills like a star—
Now I scroll through the friend list, wondering where you are.
Maybe life called you, or other games wooed,
But I hope you return to our pixel feud.
Because Dust2 feels empty, the smoke not the same,
Since RBB Dark left the Counter-Strike game.
So here’s my callout—not on mic, but in verse—
Come back, my teammate, before I get worse.
We’ll frag like the old days, revive the spark,
And tear through the ranks—me and RBB Dark.