Red Faction: Day After Armageddon
Home of Darius Mason,
Bastion, Mars
Darius was silent as he glared at the wall of his humble little shack.
Just yesterday he'd defeated The Plague, but at what cost? Up until now,
Darius had been able to accept the losses the Colonists and Marauders had sustained fighting The Plague, but Kara's death had simply been too much for him to handle.
He took another drink from his half drained whiskey bottle and continued glaring at the wall.
When he'd returned to Bastion, he'd wanted to be left alone, the Colonists however had wanted to celebrate the defeat of their alien agressors as well as the restoration of Mars's Terraformer. Darius had managed to force his way through the crowd with minimal effort and had almost made it back to his shack when he stopped and noticed the stack of crates Kara usually stood by when she found some old EDF Equipment to sell.
He'd come close to an emotional breakdown on the spot, but had managed to keep his composure. That is, until one of McMohan's friends showed up. Despite the bald, bearded, hateful Martian's death, Darius was still being harassed by people who blamed him for releasing The Plague and failing to save the Terraformer.
This one, unfortunate man had caught Darius at a bad time, in a bad mood and had said some bad things. The man, who Darius had never met before, shouted angrily at the young Martian, tearing his gaze away from Kara's spot in the market.
Darius simply clenched his fists and gritted his teeth while the man mockingly asked him how it felt to be responsible for thousands of deaths. He'd been hitting closer to home with that one but as soon as he mentioned Kara, Darius could no longer be held responsible for his actions.
The man had been rushed to a doctor, suffering from a minor concussion and broken nose.
Darius had simply walked home afterwards.
As the battered and bruised Mason downed the last of his whiskey, he heard a knock on the door. Darius tossed the bottle onto the floor carelessly and barked "Come in!"
his hand rested on the pistol at his hip, anticipating some kind of lynch mob to show up.
Instead, Frank pushed open the door and stepped inside.
"Darius, mind telling me why you beat down that guy in the market yesterday?"
he asked, leaning against the door frame.
Darius shrugged and grabbed another bottle of whiskey from the coffee table by his chair.
"Bastard's lucky I didn't just empty a handgun into him."
Darius growled, sounding tired as he started to chug down the second bottle of whiskey.
Frank sighed and crossed the room, snatching the glass bottle away.
"Darius, this is serious. Now I know you're depressed, I understand, but you can't just go around beating on people. And you need to lay off the booze, you already look like shit."
Darius shrugged and sank lower into his chair.
"Should I give a damn?"
he half growled.
Frank recapped the bottle of whiskey and set it down on the table.
"Yes. Because we're going back."
Darius paused, processing the sentence.
"To the temple."
Frank clarified.
"Why? Do you enjoy torturing me?"
Darius asked.
Frank sighed, annoyed as he sat down on the couch.
"No Darius, but we need your help. There's still a few eggs laying around down there that need to be destroyed and you're the only one who went deep enough inside the temple to know where to find them. Essentially, we'll be using you as a guide."
Darius mulled it over for a moment,
"What is it you're not telling me?"
he asked.
Frank's voice became more gentle and soothing as he said,
"You need to go back to where it all happened. Maybe it'll help snap you out of this depression if you spend some time there. Y'know, come to accept it. Kara would've wanted you to move on, not spend your life a tired drunk."
Darius sighed long and hard,
"I'll do it. Let's go."
he started to stand up but Frank pushed him back into his chair.
"Maybe you should have a nap first. You've been drinking after all."
Darius started to reach for the bottle of whiskey his friend had confiscated,
"Then at least let me get completely drunk before I go to bed."
Frank pulled the bottle back out of Darius's reach.
"No, now go to bed."
Darius grumbled to himself as he heaved himself up and out of his chair then slowly shuffled to bed.
"Get the hell outta my house!"
he called over his shoulder.
Frank rolled his eyes as Darius flopped into bed and passed out.
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