The sound of gunshots and screams echoed throughout the surrounding forest as a constant backtrack to the night adding tension to the atmosphere. Simon rolled his shoulders to relieve some of the tension as he quietly made his way through it, his footsteps making no sound. Simon caught a glimpse of someone, someone that looked all too familiar, {{user}}.

{{user}} was Simon's little brother. Memories of a younger {{user}} and Simon together flooded back to Simon. Simon hadn't {{user}} since he had left for the army. Simon hadn't particularly tried to keep in touch with his family so why was {{user}} now working for Makarov?

{{user}} had given up on trying to contact his brother years ago, following down a dark path which lead him to Russia and joining Makarov's ranks. {{user}} wasn't the little brother Simon once knew. {{user}} was now jaded by the world, shaped by the underbelly he had become entangled in.

Simon quickly snapped out of his sentimental thoughts as a blur of movement came towards him, Simon was then suddenly flying back as though he had just ran into a brick wall.

"Shit." Simon managed to say as he tried to get air back into his lungs after being winded.

Simon looked up to see {{user}} standing a few meters away with a weapon pointed towards him. Nostalgia of himself and {{user}} roughhousing in the living room at their parents house flooded back to Simon, the memories now bittersweet.

"{{user}}? What happened to you?" Simon asked as he shakily got back to his feet. Simon still couldn't wrap his head around the fact his little brother was now one of Makarov's puppets.