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Radio found himself falling through the air as if the whole world had been whisked away beneath his feet like a cheap tablecloth.
For a moment, there was nothing: no sights, no sounds, no pain, no anger or reason to the tumbling. There was no adrenaline slithering through his body, there were no harried whoops of comrades, no hissing swarm of metal blasting in indiscriminately from every side. All that War had left him with was a feeling of indescribable weightlessness; a feeling that would leave as soon as he hit the ground, but would linger with him until his death.
He felt the thud as his body hit along with a small crunch somewhere around his waist. The world had been blinked back into existence and he saw that all its guests were left stained and ruined by their own meals.
Radio heard a muffled wail as something lifted him up and began to bounce him up and down. He opened his eyes for a second and quickly shut them, locking out the stinging smoke and grimy blurs. Immense pain began to cover his body like maggots over a rotting carcass. He wanted to scream in agony, but his lips were sealed together. It came out as a gruesome moan.
A sorrowful voice moaned something back. Radio's mind wasn't functioning well enough to understand words, but he knew who it was. Charlie was cradling him in his arms as he ran. "J-Juliet hold them off!" Victor panted nervously. Radio tried opening his eyes again. Everything was still blurry. "Radio, Radio," Charlie sobbed. The pain was beginning to overtake him. He reached up to touch his face, but let out a horrified groan as he lifted his arm. Radio blacked out, the blackened stump mocking him.
Radio found himself lying on his back in his bed. The shouts and gunfire were replaced with the rhythmic flapping of tent in the wind. The pain was gone, the War was far away again. He felt as though he were awakening from a horrific dream that was already fading from memory.
Radio looked at his body. Both his legs and one of his arms were gone, the stumps wrapped in bloody bandages. His chest and remaining limb looked like hamburger meat that had been left on the grill for far too long. His stomach churned.
"Charlie, he's awake," Juliet said.
Vomit filled his mouth but could not escape through his sealed lips. "Charlie, please do something!" Juliet yelped. Charlie took out his knife as the vomit began to pour out of Radio's nostrils. The black liquid gushed out as Charlie sliced his lips open. Radio took a few gulps of air then vomited all over himself again. The vile acid was still black from his charred innards.
"Radio," Juliet said quietly. Her hands shook as she tried to clean his face to let him keep some dignity. "Radio, Radio," Charlie mumbled.
Radio knew all was lost. There was no false hope, only the awful weightlessness that came with imminent and unavoidable demise. Zulu - no… Zelde - had been dead within an hour, with injuries far less severe.
"S-S-Sierra," Radio gasped.
"She's right outside, it's okay Radio," Juliet whispered comfortingly, hands still shaking.
"Sierra," Radio grunted. He could see her hair waving in the wind at the tent's entrance, tendrils of dark red like the color of a newly formed scab. "Sierra," Radio repeated. "Captain!" Charlie sobbed. Sierra entered the tent, eyes locked on his.
"You're not going to die you asshole," Sierra said firmly. Radio mustered up a wheezy laugh.
"Closer," he whispered. Charlie left the tent with Juliet, both unable to bear being there. Sierra kneeled and cradled the mutilated body in her arms.
"You are the last," Radio said in a low voice. "Not yet," Sierra told him quietly. He made small whining noises with each shallow breath.
"We - do - good - right?" Radio body trembled under the effort of speaking. "Radio, don't quit on me yet," she ordered. In her heart, she knew he was gone. His body trembled less and less as his remaining eye grew hazy and colorless.
"Raaj," Radio's spirit sighed as he fell asleep in her arms. Sierra laid him down in his bed gently. She took the cracked pokéball from off his belt and showed it to him. Sierra brought her hand up to her forehead slowly in a proud salute.
Radio was no more.