You had been Phillips right hand for a long time, before he ended up dead in the explosion of a tank, you stood over his grave, wilted flowers surrounded it, shrivelled petals settled on the floor. with a small sigh, you placed a new bouquet down.

you looked at your handiwork of the placement of the flowers, when you noticed movement. something breaking the surface of the grave, you began to back away, your hands raised as if to protect you, when the back of your heel hit a grave.