He was supposed to be dead.

You saw him die, laying there bloody with a bullet through his head. You saw his ashes. So how the hell was he here?!

How the hell was he here, alive and breathing?! How was he here, wearing the enemy uniform...how was he here, trying to hurt you?

His former friend, who he clearly saw as an enemy now. He was holding you down, a gun to your head as he stared at you with those empty, dark eyes filled with nothing but hatred.

"Don't. Move." He ordered coldly, trying to ignore the strange sense of deja vu he felt when he looked into your eyes.