You'd been laying in the grass for about fifteen minutes now, and the blood loss was starting to take its toll. The General had long called for evacuation, surely help was coming? But as the time passed, the cruel reality began to set in. If it was coming, it'd be too late for you. Not with this bullet wound in your side. Your thoughts turned to mush as your vision began to blur, your heartbeat echoing in your aching head.

Soon, you seemed to hear footsteps. You tried to focus your vision onto the man approaching you, but you could hardly see much detail. Just some armour, a top hat, a ginger moustache curving downward, and the revolver the man held. You could hardly hear what he said over the sounds of your own heartbeat thumping in your ears. Something about.. a prisoner? His stare, assuming you could make it out, was cold and sharp, yet as he sighed and laid his revolver down, it seemed to soften as he crouched beside you, staring at the bullet wound.

RHM: Hmm.. seems The Government's left you behind. What a pack of pricks. Come on, let's get your sorry ass outta here before they send in some kinda helicopter.