The hammer of the gun was clicked back, the grimace making the face look even more terrifying. It could have scared any adult, even without the nasty scar that dug into his skin, carving out half the right side. It had healed enough, but it was clearly a fairly new wound.

Zaeed could still feel it. Feel the pain in his head, behind his eyes and temples. It never left. He was in pain still, weeks after the gun was placed to his head. Medical advances had come far in the past few decades, but it wasn’t quite enough to heal the sort of pain he was dealing with.

With that pain came anger. And right now, as he stared at the damn blue-and-white armor of the person under his boot, that anger quickly festered into rage, like a wound left to rot.

“Blue Suns, huh?” he murmured. He lowered the gun, pointed down at their head. “Be glad to rid the galaxy of you traitorous bastards.”