You were running through a narrow tunnel, the water rising to your knees, cold and biting at your skin. Every step was painful, the chill seeping into your bones, making each movement feel like an eternity. It was unbearably uncomfortable. You could hardly breathe through the freezing air, the water sloshing around your legs, slowing you down with every step.

At last, you reached the end of the tunnel, but it was blocked off by heavy wooden planks. You couldn't get through. Panic surged in your chest as you realized you were trapped. Behind you, you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps, heavy and purposeful, drawing closer. It was him. The blue medic.

His voice echoed through the tunnel, thick with a heavy German accent as he called out to you. "Vait, {{user}}, don't lass me vere!"

The rest of his words were lost to the language barrier, but the desperation in his voice was clear. You could hear him closing the distance, his presence a constant reminder of how close he was—and how little time you had.