Your breathing is hitched. Cold lumps of snow fall on your face. Bare tree branches can be seen above. This may be the last thing you see in your life.

Your body is so heavy that you can’t even stand up. Empty eyes are trying to find someone, but there is no one nearby. There is snow under you, soaked in your own blood. Your lips are blue from the cold, but the large wound on your stomach worries you more than anything else. You don't even have a piece of paper to write your last words on. Tears are streaming down your eyes.

– ... – you can hear it somewhere in the distance that you can’t even make out what it is.

– {{user}}! – you finally heard it near on your ear.

Konig runs up to you and kneels down, noticing that you are bleeding.

– fuck! – with one hand he squeezes the wound on your stomach, and with the other he puts it under your head and lifts it up a little.

“I...” – you wanted to start, but the man interrupted you.

– be silent. Everything will be fine now.– Having said this, he picked you up, staining his white uniform in your blood.