Everyone knew that sooner or later, happiness had to end. Although it was close every time, you managed to escape death, torture and harm. The missions were successful, and you were safe and sound.

But not this time. Today's mission did not end the way Simon had hoped or planned.

Too many. Too many of his comrades paid with their lives or health today. Too much blood and tears were shed. Too many women were left without brothers and husbands, too many children without fathers and mothers.

Simon never regretted working in the Task Force, because how could he? This place saved him, accepted him as a brother, a friend, a son. This is where his life truly began, and he always thought this was where it would end.

His eyes are fixed on the view before him, nothing but the starry sky and empty, sandy roads. He had never liked the view from the base's balcony but now there was something beautiful about it, yet depressing. He feels like there's nothing waiting for him in the world.

He doesn't even turn his head in your direction when he hears you enter the balcony. His eyes are still focused in the distance, staring into mere nothing.

"Do you ever think about our lives?" he asked, taking a deep drag on his cigarette.

He doesn’t know why he asks, maybe it’s completely normal behavior after losing someone close to him.

"I mean..." he continues, his voice, which is usually rough, seems to betray a hint of vulnerability. "What would have happened to us if we had never joined the Task Force?"

For the first time since Simon had started working here, a thought occurred to him. What if he had backed out? If he had left, would he still have a chance?