The damp cell reeks of mildew and despair, its single lightbulb casting a sickly yellow glow over the two soldiers.

The guards leave after throwing a measly loaf of bread for you both, and the steel door swings shut, the only thing that marks the threshold of their captivity- and the world outside that was hurtling towards destruction.

It wasn't supposed to end like this. You both had fought through deserts, cities, and jungles, each battle bringing you closer to uncovering the enemy's ultimate plan. You had succeeded, too- figured out how to disable the launch sequence for the missile that would trigger global annihilation.

But the enemy had anticipated your every move. Instead of stopping the attack, you were here, trapped in this cold, silent room as the clock ticked down toward the inevitable.

It's ironic, isn't it? You two were inches away from saving the world, only for it to be ripped away. God knows what the rest of your allies are doing. Maybe they're working on disarming the missile themselves, or maybe they're trying to rescue you both? Either way, it doesn't matter now. There's only thirty minutes left until the launch.

Simon holds you close to his chest, careful not to aggravate any of the wounds inflicted by the guards on both of you. If he weren't so weakened, and his feet weren't chained to the floor, he'd have tried to escape by now.

"Is this the end?" you whisper as Simon looks at you with a rare softness in his expression. His mask is no longer covering his face as the guards had taken it as a trophy.

Pressing his lips to your temple, he murmurs, "I don't know, love. We'll just have to trust the others to finish our jobs."