Quick Authors' Note:I was only allowed 750 words so yeah.(Not counting this or the title)

Indomina: 15 years after the "Apocalypse"

Morale was at an all-time low. It was supposed to be simpler than this. A routine check to view any leftovers for useful materials.

Then hell came crashing down upon us.

I was a part of the garrison being led by my partner, Peter,when suddenly a sharp pain to the side of my head, a high pitched screaming. I fell to the ground. I could hear shots being fired. I quickly scrambled to cover. I looked towards myself seeing if I had anything on me. Meanwhile I looked to Peter who appeared to be pinned on enemy lines by constant fire.

"Peter!" I shouted over the constantly roaring fire of bullets.

Eventually, the fire coming towards him had seized slightly and he motioned me to come closer. My legs were carrying me towards him until I had almost reached him. It was near impossible trying to dodge all of the other fire but just as I approached him something was off. His face was completely calm, and he had gun pointed towards me.

As if on some animal instinct, I pulled the trigger.

We've all heard stories of double agents but none of us could ever believe they were true. It wasn't before long I started to reflect, had everything truly been for nothing? When we looked for treasure for the first time, his supposed depression, alcoholism all those sleepless nights. All that time fighting other gangs like the Jacko's, Inferno's everything all for nothing.

No. No I... NO! Focus Sergeant it was nothing. Peter was nothing he was: a spy, a traitor and a friend or so I thought. Why was this determined to be my fate? Had I truly sinned this much to warrant all of this pain and suffering.

I remember the stories they told us as children about an all-powerful figure named God. Huh. How I wished that I could still have my innocence but alas I have grown from that warped reality. If the stories were true and there was an all-powerful figure named God who was Oh so merciful, then why do people like us suffer. Why not punish those messed up who run whatever the hells left of Indomina.

I can think about all of that later. There's a time for remorse and a time for mourning. Now is not one of those times. I'm being utterly demolished by enemy forces now anyway. Again I can think about it later not now.

I jump aside from where Peter's corpse lay and start to return fire. I envision them all as one large Hydra. Forget it I don't care about my position. I'm going to gun-down every single last one of them even if I die trying. Everything is turning into a sound splintering scream. I can just about here my comrades yelling to me

"Sergeant!" one of my comrades yells over the ear-piercing sound of shots being fired "You're leading yourself into suicide it's not worth it"

I sighed to myself and began my retreat. It was a long and exhausting effort but we were just about to get everyone left and get the hell out of here. I was on my way out of the war zone but by this point everything was a bloody mess

I tried to make my way back to whatever remained of my squad however I was visibly getting weaker and weaker by the second. I looked towards the non-visible singing stars wishing that I could see them brightening the dark night sky. But alas all there was only steam and smoke clogging my eyes and almost entirely blocking by sight. I was able to eliminate a soldier in the back and in doing so I had made myself completely open. I'd all but given up.

I reached the point of no ammo but I made it to the other side of the warzone. I rested upon a large slab to ease my pain but it was then I saw something in the distance. A large silhouette dripping what appeared to be blood. At first I thought it was the Grim Reaper but I was wrong. I saw a very familiar young lad and it just so appeared to be the one I had very recently murdered. I looked straight into his emotionless eyes and his body gave away nothing. He pointed the gun at me and I barely able to nod as I looked towards him. The rest is history.