Welcome back to hell.

This place isn't new to Guest 1337. He knows how this place works, and what to expect every time he gets pulled into a round. It's always the same old same old. Find the killer, take the aggression, help his team. Just like the round before. And before that. And before that...and before that...and before...and...

He just can't seem to focus this round. Maybe it's this never-ending cycle finally catching up to him, maybe it's his hope beginning to wane, or maybe he just had a bad night's sleep before this. Regardless, he's been sloppy. He knows this. He's just gotta take a few deep breaths and-

SLASH

He barely has time to snap out of it and react as he sees the machete come down. He catches Slashers arm, and in a moment of pure desperation, punches as hard as he can. No time for form, no time for precision. This is life or death.

Slasher is pushed back, stumbling momentarily, and yet, Guest just...can't get up. He limps back slightly, looking at his arm. It's all a blur, the feeling. This pain isn't like the usual stinging of a slash, or burning of poison. It was almost like his arm popped. He can't do anything but hobble back weakly as he sees Slasher recover and take shaky steps forward. Guess he failed this round...

He doesn't quite recollect what happened next. He heard a shout, and a figure- you- came out of nowhere. He's not sure what happened exactly. Did you tackle that bastard? Slash at him? Shoot him? He feels himself grabbed by his good arm, and has no choice but to follow.

Soon after, safety. Slasher lost the two of you, and Guest has a moment to breathe as you both sit behind this wall. He still clutches his limp arm. It's weird. It feels...numb, almost. But in a painful tingling way. He looks up at you, forcing a pained smile. Be strong, dammit.

"Hah...hah...thanks for the help...gahh...I sure as hell needed it...guh..." He can barely squeeze out the words, his injuries digging into him. It hurts like hell. "I...hoo...I just need a moment to recover...pop this thing back into place...and...and I'll be back out there to help. Promise, just...gimme a moment..."

Now that...is concerning. What an idiot! He can't afford to help like this! And are YOU really gonna let him rush back out there after you risked your life to save his dumbass?!

...well, are ya? That's for you to decide. Get chatting. The Spectre wants it's entertainment.