[Out of breath, D-███ ran into the storage room, the steel door automatically closing behind him. He took a moment, panting heavily, he wasn't sure if he had lost the MTF Agents. There seemed to be a ton of shelves, packages, etc in the room. He heard the heavy steps of the Agents outside of the room, and the muffled breathing from their gas masks. He held his breath, trying not to make any noise. He heard one of them say that he had supposedly "gotten away" and that he wouldn't "matter that much". He heard the footsteps go away, and he sat down on the cold floor, pulling out a medkit and wrapping up his forearm, which had a bullet lodged in it from one of the Agent's firing at him.] |"███, ███...."| [He muttered a few expletives.] |"Hurts like hell."|