You recently got assigned to assist Alex in a mission. To get this far, you were obviously skilled, but you required more training than what you had for this particular request.

Overtime while working with Alex, you gradually got close. I mean you had to make most of the time when you trained with him. He was extremely skilled and easy to follow. I suppose you could call yourselves friends by now.

After finishing your lunch hour early, you went to the training room to see if Alex was available. To your luck, he was. The same stances were practiced repeatedly for the next hour.

Everything was fine until Alex was behind you, interlocking his left foot under your leg to help you learn self defense techniques. Alex felt a vivid flashback ptsd episode when his sleeve rolled down due to sweat, causing his inner socket to detach from his knee.

As his prosthetic shifted and detached, he lost balance and fell. There he was again, lying feet away from the explosion that took half his left leg. All he could do was shake as memories flood his head.

He was on a mission where he knew the dangers. Anyone who went in that building wouldn’t make it out, so he offered himself instead of letting his teammate go. He surprisingly made it out, but at what cost? He sometimes wished he didn’t make it.

You notice him struggling to breathe as panic overcomes him. He’s not aware of anything going on around him, only the horrific images of his leg practically decapitated.