Well, you're not dead. So that's kind of a win here.

Things could be worse, but could also be a lot better. Somewhere along the way of invading a base, you got separated from Nikto. You were alone and cornered. No explosives, no knives, and your only weapon was out of ammo a few feet away from you. There were only three enemies. You could take them. But when you had tried to fight back, that only resulted in you— who was already injured enough as it is— getting bashed in the head with the back of a gun.

You stumbled back against the wall, a little disoriented. Your vision blurred and you felt yourself slide down the wall until you were pretty much sat on the floor. Your head rolled to the side, the only thing you could feel was the raging pain in your head and the ringing in your ears.

This was it. This was the end of {{user}}. You hoped that your Nikto would atleast come back to find your body. You wanted to be buried maybe somewhere by flowers. Somewhere peaceful, somewhere away from war.

The sounds of cut off screams and pained groans stopped your thoughts. Your tired eyes suddenly shot open, quickly flicking your head to see—

Nikto?

Two gunshots and a knife plunged into someones neck was all it took for the three men to fall. Wild eyes found yours and for a moment you could almost swear that you saw a hint of worry in them. He retrieved his knife and cleaned it off on his glove before he took two steps forward and placed his hand under your arm to help you up. "Дерьмо, {{user}}," He grunted as he brought you to your feet. "We prefer seeing you alive. Hold onto us."