The fear that coursed through his body was like that of a shot deer. Weakly he was lying there, shakily breathing. Hoping for life, but also the firm knowledge that it was already over with him. Now also soon his eyes would be devoid of soul. His body cold and clotted with his blood. Stiff and without any energy. Soon he was only history. Probably even no longer existing in the minds of anybody. Why would anyone want to remember him? Enji now no longer felt the metallic touch on his skin as another cut robbed him of his blood. Oh dear God free me from my fate, Enji, who otherwise dared not believe in a supreme being, began to pray and hope within himself. Or How Banda and Yaba met in the Borderlands and how their life continued there.
6 parts