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Description
My shoulder...

That shrapnel... Through the armor as if it was paper. So fucking cold... Blood loss already? Or simply the breach on external environment... Yuck.
I don't like it...

What am I doing lying here anyway? Where's the rest of my unit?
My weapon. Where's my weapon?
Ah. Here. Reach. Reach to grab it. That's right, it hurts, but it's nothing. You're already pumped full of painkillers, dummy. It's just an illusion.

Ah, that's probably Lyler over there. Nah, just his head. Where's the rest?

What the hell am I doing?

Get up. Get on all fours first. Slowly. That impact crater is deep enough. You don't risk being hit. Come on. Get up.

My weapon? Phew. Still there. No, don't slide...

AOWCH! Ash and cold mud, in the hole, on the wound. That's more efficient than any number of caffeine shots.

Blinding pain. I shouldn't have wrenched the shrapnel out. But doesn't really matter now. The smoking wreck over there, in the middle of all this mud, has to be the Chrysler...
We've been shot down. And I'm the only survivor, it seems.
Wait. What they firing at? Allan. He's just got up. He's got my medkit...

No.

Well I guess that shell took care of things, for both me and him. I'm just going to lie down there and wait. Either way I'm dead.

Why just go like this, though?

I still got a loaded rifle. I still got one functional hand to operate it. Most of my armor is still intact. Both my legs are still OK. I lost blood, a lot, but not enough to be handicapped by it yet. That mud is slippery, water and blood. I'll have to get up and run if I want to have a chance. They've started a final cleanup using their mortars...

That red goo I've coughed on my visor isn't a good sign, methinks. So let's do it.

Get up.

Run.

Fire.

Jump.

Crash down.

Reload.

And again.

And again.

Air. Earth. Water. Fire. All four elements. Air, loaded with radiation and polluants. Earth, laced with rivers of mud, ashes and blood. Water, in the mud, in the sky, endless. Fire, raining from the skies in a hail of Death. United. For a split second. Then, fire swallows everything. In my chest, my legs, the remaining arm. My shoulder is now the burning core of the Sun. The inside of my helmet has turned red. I must have coughed up what litle blood I had left in me.

I can't feel it anymore, but both my knees have hit the ground. There's a dozen wounds in my chest and abdomen, but I can't feel them. I'm serene. Detached.

I raise my left arm, one last time. There's a grenade in the underbarrel launcher. And three bullets in my last magazine. Two. One. Zero. The grenade now. Lift this right arm.

It won't move. It's gone.

Doesn't matter. Time has slowed for me now, it'll take me only a second in this eternity to steady the rifle with my chest. Avoid the jagged holes. That's it.

Squeeze the trigger. That's it. Graceful arc. Red and oranges of the explosion.

My throat. Where is my neck collar gone?

Same place as the rest of my throat and my arm, I believe. And I'm about to join them.

Since I don't have a windpipe anymore, it's hard to sigh... Screw this technicality, I'll do it anyway. I can allow myself that.

I did it until the end.

Description
My shoulder...

That shrapnel... Through the armor as if it was paper. So fucking cold... Blood loss already? Or simply the breach on external environment... Yuck.
I don't like it...

What am I doing lying here anyway? Where's the rest of my unit?
My weapon. Where's my weapon?
Ah. Here. Reach. Reach to grab it. That's right, it hurts, but it's nothing. You're already pumped full of painkillers, dummy. It's just an illusion.

Ah, that's probably Lyler over there. Nah, just his head. Where's the rest?

What the hell am I doing?

Get up. Get on all fours first. Slowly. That impact crater is deep enough. You don't risk being hit. Come on. Get up.

My weapon? Phew. Still there. No, don't slide...

AOWCH! Ash and cold mud, in the hole, on the wound. That's more efficient than any number of caffeine shots.

Blinding pain. I shouldn't have wrenched the shrapnel out. But doesn't really matter now. The smoking wreck over there, in the middle of all this mud, has to be the Chrysler...
We've been shot down. And I'm the only survivor, it seems.
Wait. What they firing at? Allan. He's just got up. He's got my medkit...

No.

Well I guess that shell took care of things, for both me and him. I'm just going to lie down there and wait. Either way I'm dead.

Why just go like this, though?

I still got a loaded rifle. I still got one functional hand to operate it. Most of my armor is still intact. Both my legs are still OK. I lost blood, a lot, but not enough to be handicapped by it yet. That mud is slippery, water and blood. I'll have to get up and run if I want to have a chance. They've started a final cleanup using their mortars...

That red goo I've coughed on my visor isn't a good sign, methinks. So let's do it.

Get up.

Run.

Fire.

Jump.

Crash down.

Reload.

And again.

And again.

Air. Earth. Water. Fire. All four elements. Air, loaded with radiation and polluants. Earth, laced with rivers of mud, ashes and blood. Water, in the mud, in the sky, endless. Fire, raining from the skies in a hail of Death. United. For a split second. Then, fire swallows everything. In my chest, my legs, the remaining arm. My shoulder is now the burning core of the Sun. The inside of my helmet has turned red. I must have coughed up what litle blood I had left in me.

I can't feel it anymore, but both my knees have hit the ground. There's a dozen wounds in my chest and abdomen, but I can't feel them. I'm serene. Detached.

I raise my left arm, one last time. There's a grenade in the underbarrel launcher. And three bullets in my last magazine. Two. One. Zero. The grenade now. Lift this right arm.

It won't move. It's gone.

Doesn't matter. Time has slowed for me now, it'll take me only a second in this eternity to steady the rifle with my chest. Avoid the jagged holes. That's it.

Squeeze the trigger. That's it. Graceful arc. Red and oranges of the explosion.

My throat. Where is my neck collar gone?

Same place as the rest of my throat and my arm, I believe. And I'm about to join them.

Since I don't have a windpipe anymore, it's hard to sigh... Screw this technicality, I'll do it anyway. I can allow myself that.

I did it until the end.