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You played it so well. The part of a commander. Soldiers running into the line of fire at your command because you deemed it worthy to face the end with pride than with fear. But in the end when you wanted death with you're men. You survived it within an inch of your life. Cursing your survival with guilt you can't let go of.
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You're second in command is thankful. Beneath a Facade of that unwavering guilt you nod and continue to give orders despite you're broken body. You're leg shattered leaving you incapable ofrunning. Missing an arm thanks to a titan that took it from you. But even with orders still being given you look at yourself as a monster. How far would you truly go to getyou're freedom?
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