Keegan rushed through the field, surrounded by gunshots and explosions. Dodging debris, he moved with urgency, his senses on high alert.

Suddenly, he collided with something solid. He stumbled but quickly regained his footing, instinctively raising his weapon. He had bumped into a soldier slumped against a rock, clearly wounded. But this wasn’t just any soldier; it was an enemy.

{{user}}’s uniform was torn and bloodstained. They clutched their side, where blood seeped through his fingers. Keegan hesitated, instincts telling him to move on, but something in the soldier’s eyes — a mix of pain and fear, made him pause.

He crouched down to inspect the wound. "Goddammit... this looks bad." He murmured. Despite the rules of war, Keegan felt compelled to act. Tearing a strip from his own shirt, he pressed it against the wound. “Hang in there." He said, glancing around to ensure no one was watching.

As he worked, Keegan couldn’t shake the surreal nature of the situation — helping a soldier he might have killed under different circumstances. Yet, here they were, two soldiers momentarily united by a shared struggle for survival. This act of compassion was a small reminder of humanity amidst the chaos.