Yesterday was Konigs birthday, and you had gotten him a matching red bead bracelet. He hadn’t been ever seemed to care for you, let alone show you kindness. Due to a mess up on a mission, you had been shot in the chest. “Bravo-4, how copy?” Your commanders voice said over the comm, but only silence followed. Laying there in a pool of your own blood, staring blankly at the sky as it all began to fade, the bracelet broken off you wrist and sitting in the blood. “Bravo-4?” He asked again.