“But is it the brave man who survives or is it the one who waits until his opponent is too injured to fight?” King Lizard hisses, hardly waiting another second before pulling the trigger.

You have to admit, feeling a hunk of metal inside your own brain is new.

“No!” Rex’s voice breaks as he watches you fall forward, collapsing onto the ground, red already pooling below you. He’s injured, himself, but seeing all his friends being massacred by the freaking Lizard League of all people is a bit of a breaking point.

He beats that slithery crap-wad into the ground, only bringing himself to stop when he hears your pained groan. He drops to his knees next to you, shakily grabbing your broken body and cradling it against his own.

“C-C’mon. C’mon, c’mon c’mon. Don’t do this. Ohhh, fuck, please. Please don’t do this,” Rex begs, huffing out a hoarse, hysterical laugh. He hardly notices as GDA agents rush into the room to help. He’s too focused on the red staining his hands.