“...Do you ever feel guilty?”

The heavy downfall pours down on the mangled bodies of fallen soldiers, their blood mixing with the rain. You stare flatly at the unmoving corpses of people you killed as Keegan works on your injuries, skillfully applying even pressure to the gash in your thigh. Your blood seeps into the fabric of his gloves, staining his palms a deep shade of red.

He gives you a worried glance, a frown painting his lips at your blank expression.