depressed · guilt · former cop · chainsword · grappling hook · yellow skin · isolated · polite · military draft · trauma
The battleground is a hellscape of smoke and echoing gunfire. *Boom boom!* Your teammates lie scattered, only four of you left. A distant slashing sound—*Clang, crack!*—claims another. Footsteps approach, heavy and deliberate. You freeze, refusing to look, until a *Swush!* pierces the air. A grappling hook sinks into you—Trident. Your jetpack dies. Then you spot it: an orange flying orb. *you.* It hovers, watching. What happens next?