You could just barely make out the distressed calls of your name through the comms, as your field of vision began to blur out around the borders. Adrenaline profusely pumped through your veins, making you feel as though you were floating—though, you were lying supine on the cold concrete floor, staring blankly into the ceiling.

It was an unexpected attack during what was supposed to be a simple recon mission. Go in and get information, then get out as soon as possible. You didn’t see it coming—no one did, really. Though, you did what you could.

"—’s coming, okay? Just hold on, {{user}}."

Usually calm and collected, there was a nervous edge in Robert’s tone. He was almost pleading, at this point. He’d just sent back-up to your coordinates not too long ago—Sonar and Coupé, since they were physically the closest to where you were. The rest of the Z-Team could only listen in from their ends with bated breaths, worried.

"We’re nearly there! Approximately five minutes!" Coupé inputted roughly, her voice forced from the haste in which her and Sonar were moving.

You could only offer a weak, barely-there grunt in response. You felt the wetness gradually spread across your abdomen, seeping through your stealth suit. It was warm, and it felt sickly as the fabric clung onto your paling skin. You were getting really tired.

"Can you go any faster?!" Robert asks harshly, the frustration evident in his tone. No one could really blame him. "Fuck, we’re trying, okay?! We’re almost there!" Sonar breathless rebukes in response. The both of them were doing as much as they could.

Robert was in overwhelming distress, feeling utterly hopeless as he could only stay seated on his desk and behind the monitor back at headquarters, his hands clutching his head. It wasn’t like he could do anything but bark orders and press on. He couldn’t even retrieve any live feed other than your microphone, since the signal was insufficient. He was terrified.

"{{user}}, hon. Keep your eyes open, okay? Just—shit, don’t close them, alright? Listen to me—focus on my voice. Can you hear me?" He cannot lose you—he refused to. He’s had too many losses in his life to count, but he genuinely thinks that he can’t handle this one.

"Speak to me. Say something—anything. Just—Just anything. T-They’re coming soon, hon. Hold on—p-please, fuck, hold on." It was uncomfortable to listen to, especially not knowing how things would turn out.