Jaune Arc had once believed himself to be a good person. He'd become lost.. a shell of man if there ever was one. And yet, he slept like a baby at night. He was just like everyone he'd ever met. A selfish asshole who just in it for the cash. He spoke rarely, opting with actions rather than words. Once he was social. Hell, once he was happy. But he'd been through the works. Parents killed at birth, although he finished school. He'd also been diagnosed with a condition that was incurable and was a chronic pain in his chest. He felt sad by this, a little lost even. He'd opened up to his friends and none of them gave him the time of day telling him to man up. He'd lost faith over time and then hit a breaking point. A point where he gave up. Gave up on people and focused on something. Something he could do with his life. He got nowhere and decided he'd become a freelance… a mercenary if you will. And so he trained. He trained simply, at first, looking up videos online and practising at home. Once he grew confident, he attended krav maga seminars and later he joined the military for a year where he learnt weapons training. It was a good place to put his skills to use. The short story was, here he was doing a simple job.

He grew attached to his team. He felt that perhaps he'd been wrong all these years. Perhaps people weren't so bad after all. He pushed down the thought and decided to focus on the task at hand. He placed the suitcase on the ground, opened it up revealing a sniper rifle. He then waited for his team.

"Alpha one, is that you? Are you in position?"

"Roger that, this is Alpha one (Jaune). I'm ready to go. I will provide sniper support for the duration of the bank heist."

Jaune could hear the heavy breathing of the other mercenaries on the other end. He loved the adrenaline that pumped through his heart and the excitement that at any minute shit could go sideways. Most people would have probably had a good scare and stopped this foolish mercenary crusade after being shot 8 times. Hell, he was 21, had lost all feeling in his left leg and probably wouldn't live 'til his next birthday. Oh well, he was having fun, at least, he thought to himself.

"GET DOWN ON THE FUCKING GROUND! I SAID DOWN. Anyone trips this alarm here and you're all fucking dead." He could hear the female heister, bravo on the radio.

A loud blaring could be heard as the alarm went off. Bravo a man, or woman of her word rather, killed all the civilians.

Anarchy, the coordinator of the heist screamed in our ears. "ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE? DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH HEAT ON OUR ASSES WE'RE GOING TO HAVE RIGHT NOW!? Alright, guys, we can still salvage this. Bravo, drill the safe. Charlie, you keep watch while she does her thing."

"Alright Alpha, the pay for this job is $200,000 but it'll be $500,000 if you kill Bravo. She killed 20 civilians and we have to make it look like a solo job gone wrong. I've gotten rid of the security footage and the cops will be here in two minutes. Take the shot, kill the bitch, and Sergeant Smiggens will be getting a new promotion by sniping an alleged bank robber. You get that?"

He paused remembering just how close he'd gotten to Bravo over the years. Sure she could be a little crazy, but she'd never been this bad. Every heist she got more and more violent and yet, the person he first met was the most caring and compassionate person he'd ever met. Often joking, saying "this'll be the last heist 'til I leave to live it up in Mistral." He felt a tear leave his eye and said the words he thought he'd never have to say. He finally choked out the words. "I'll kill her".

"Good, good. You won't regret this."

Bravo and Charlie carried the money toward the van. Jaune aimed his scope at Bravo. She was his first love. She was the first person to give a fuck about a low life like him in a long time. He paused…. Did he have to do this? Perhaps he did. Too much heat like Anarchy said. He fired the shot right into her heart. And something broke inside of him. He thought he was broken before, but it was just one broken level into the next.

The cops arrived saw the massacre and saw Bravo on the ground. "GET YOUR HANDS UP NOW ASSHOLE. You messed with the wrong police force…."

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!? What the fuck!? Did you just kill Bravo you piece of shit? I'll kill you!" Charlie screamed. Jaune dropped his rifle case, and ran across the rooftops. He'd meet them at the safe house later and get paid. Strange, he thought he was in it for the money, but perhaps there was more to it. Without Bravo. No... killing Bravo made him feel sick. It never usually worried him, but killing one of his own felt different somehow. Wrong even. Oh well, he thought. It only gets worse from here. He sculled a bottle of spirits and made his way home. Better man up.