After years of paranoia, you decide to fake your own death. At your own funeral, a booming voice from the sky says “the experiment has failed. All parties may return to their posts.”

Suddenly, a frantic hand pulls you out of sight behind a tree and covers your mouth, His voice is familiar — that of your best friend, “You have to hide, if they find you you’re as good as dead.”

He stares down at you, there’s bags under his eyes & he looks tired…like he’d been crying — though he hides it well.