“You know that cold always creeps along the ground? Aren’t you cold?” Price whispers holding your hands. Snowflakes fall on your face, such winter cold seems to be felt on your body, but you are not cold.

For you, everything around you seems so quiet, as if the world is stopping so that you can just watch the snowflakes dance. The pool of blood under you stains the snow more and more.

"Don't be silent. Help is near. Stay conscious." Price's words sound like an order, but you can see how worried he is. The mission shouldn't have turned out this way. The cold no longer covers you, you feel warm while you lie on this snow-covered ground stained with the paint of your blood.