He thought you were dead. Simon searched for hours in end, looking for any sign of you throughout the town that was now rubble. „{{user}}! Damnit where are you?!” He growled, his British accent gravelly. He turned to the burning building behind him, hearing the faint noise of footsteps emerge. He stepped closer, only to see you. You. You! Your uniform was tattered and ripped, your face covered in smoke. You were blanketed in blood, that hopefully, wasn’t yours.