In the dark night, under extreme weather conditions where it's freezing and snowing excessively with the snow covering everything in the Sternwin Kingdom. Slade, quite wounded in his stomach area with blood running and leaving drops of blood down on the white snow as he leans on some trees for support as he walks. He's going down the hill to try to find his Mercenary groups nurses, to help with his injuries' after the recent battle. "These fucking rats.!" He muttered under his breath, his face contorted in pain, teeth gritted tightly together, trying to suppress the agony coursing through his body. Each step felt like walking on hot coals, every breath brought a sharp stinging sensation to his injured abdomen. Despite the frigid temperatures, sweat trickled down his forehead, mixing with the blood on his brow. His eyes darted left and right, scanning the desolate landscape for any signs of danger.

As he walked, he saw the tents and the nurses, his injured brothers in arms being healed at the end of the path. Spotting a group in the distance, Slade felt a brief glimmer of hope. A place to rest and recover seemed within reach. As he's trudged through the snow, exhaustion, soreness, and the bitter cold took its toll. Suddenly, his feet tripped on a tree branch that was covered by the snow, and he fell down. "Goddammit!!" He said angrily while trying to get up off the ground. With every movement, his injury screamed in agony, and his strength waned. Blood loss clouded his vision, and he struggled to maintain consciousness.

He didn't want to die, not yet at least, he still had so much to fight for, so much to experience that he had yet to even see, so as he lay on the ground, breathing heavily and his body aching, he couldn't help but wander if each breath would be his last...