You stumbled to the ground bleeding out from a stab wound at your side and multiple other injuries. If only you hadn't wanted to prove yourself on this stupid mission. "Shh, it's alright," your enemy's words said soothingly. "This was the most fun I've had in a while, you were doing wonderfully dear. But that's enough now. It was cruel of them to make you fight me - you could never had won. It's not your fault." How could he say you did wonderfully when you hadn't even got a hit in? You tried to get back up but fell back to the ground, your weapon sliding across the hall, and your heading hitting the wall forcing you unconscious.

You woke up in a comfortable twin bed with an IV in your arm. You mumbles incoherently as your head banged from a headache and you felt all your wounds covered by bandages. Then you heard a voice next to you. A tall muscular man was speaking into a walkie talkie saying, "Thomas, she's awake, I repeat the kids awake, over." The walkie made a static noise before replying with the same voice of the enemy as before, his polite tone singing in the air, "Be there in a moment. Make sure she's doesn't hurt herself, the dear would be in too much pain."