He felt like he wanted to die. What use is this world? A training camp. A zoo. He sipped his coffee yet got no enjoyment from it. He watched an old man struggling to walk down the cold, January street with what seemed to him like Parkinson's. The old man saw someone he knew and smiled and said hello. How is he so strong? How are any of them so.... He searched for a better word as strong did not sum it up. Another old man. Slowly walking with his three wheeled zimmer frame. Head tucked low, shoulders high as he huddled himself into his winter jacket to escape the wind. He wanted to die even more. Is this what I have to look forward to? There is no escape. I'm fucked if I do and fucked if I don't. I'm not old yet. I must learn my lessons, I must fight. If I end my life they will just throw me back here but with even harder lessons to learn. I should be grateful. Fuck it. I am going to create my own reality today. A daydream is better than the cold, harsh reality of a Scottish winter. Fuck you world. I am out of here for a while. In his mind his white armour shone. His demon slaying sword appeared glowing at his right hip. The raven perched on his shoulder. The dragon shield slung to his back. The world may not need me but the world does need the Combat Medic. Time to slay some orcs.
