It was a blurry image...
An image of an enclosed and damaged metal shell, with a pilot sitting right in the middle of it. His whole body numb as he lays in his seat, he lays in his own red pools of his own blood.
He weakly tried lifting his right arm to try open the hatch but nothing follows his want for movement, he looks to the right, the sight was disturbing, his entire right side from his shoulder to his hip was barely attached now only bieng held together by strands of flesh and fabric left from his suit.
Even from this horrific sight, no scream escaped his lips, only the jagged breathing of his collapsed and destroyed lungs.
He has already come to terms with what comes next, he closes his eyes taking in the final moments.
There were sounds of gunfire and screaming from the outside of his metal grave... but among all this fighting there was a voice in the distance that stuck out among the chaos. It was a female's voice calling out..."Ethan".
It was his name bieng cryed out, the voice obviosly in distress, it wasnt distress for herself it was for him.
It called again, and again louder each time she called out.
Finally the name was shouted "ETHAN!" His eyes shot open to an entirely different scene, there was a male pilot in front of him holding ethan's shoulders with worry all over this mans face.
"Ethan are you alright? your body was shaking like hell."
Ethan looks around getting his bearings, pulls his hands up into view looking at the now familiar hands of his own all of his metal digits connected with wires and bolts. Ethans blue rectangular visor pointed back to his fellow pilot as he moved the pilots hands off of his metal shoulder plates.
"Dont worry, just a
bad dream"
