Team RWBY marched forth into the town, happy. Yang herself lead the pack toward a store for their bi-weekly grocery shopping spree. Sure, they could get what they needed out of Beacon's own stores, but this was as much a team-building exercise as it was an outing into town for the girls. It was a bright Saturday, the rays of the midday sun beating down onto the pavement.
The blonde brawlin' babe of team RWBY grinned, staring up at the sun and using her left hand to shield her eyes from the worst of its rays, before she sniffed the air and exhaled, "Ah. Gotta love it when it's nice out..." before looking to the rest of the team. Weiss had brought herself a parasol and simply maintained her idle 'resting bitch' face, while Blake and Ruby just watched city life go on unabated.
"Agreed!" Ruby beamed as they strolled toward the grocery shop.
"So, what's on the list of things to buy today?" Blake inquired as she checked her scroll. Weiss, meanwhile, sighed, looking around at the life in the city going on as normal. People walked, talked, laughed and enjoyed each-other's presence, smiles on their faces. Weiss herself stopped inches short of stepping on something. She noticed its wagging tail, then looked down to see a puppy that looked like it was made out of snow and coal, pearly black eyes and wet black nose looking up at her. It panted happily, wagging its tail and looking up at Weiss.
The girl took a moment to make sure nobody was looking, before crouching down and petting the creature, cooing, "Aw, aren't you just the sweetest little thing? Such a fluffy cloud of cute!" as she kept petting it. Despite her best efforts, everyone paused to look at the cute sight. She didn't realize until about thirty seconds of petting and rubbing the belly of the small, curly white ball of hair and love that she had just been spotted.
She looked up, cheeks flushed red as she still pet the creature, while the rest of her team stared, Yang with her mouth agape. Ruby, meanwhile, looked like she was in heaven and Blake was covering her mouth, concealing her chuckling from the white-haired heiress. Weiss pouted, then demanded, "What?" while glaring toward Yang. The blonde's dumfound expression soon morphed into a grin.
"Oh, nothing~..." She partially sang, then chuckled, "Didn't know a puppy's what it takes to melt the Ice Queen."
"Hey!" Weiss snapped, then sighed and continued petting the creature. "I will not respond to clear provocations, Yang Xiao-Long..." She stated bluntly, while Ruby was already taking pictures of the embarrassed Schnee's little cuddle sesh with the puppy. The pup's owner was on the right, a tall guy with black hair, simply watching the unfolding scene with a smile.
Weiss sighed, then stood to her feet and dusted herself off, before smiling at the little pup as it tried to climb her leg. She and her team walked off, with her waving at the owner of the dog and the dog itself. Yang's grin grew into a proud, pearly-white one as she strutted forth. She looked at Weiss, who simply rolled her eyes as she walked forward. She then paused, her face burning red, then looked to the left as she saw Ruby and Blake giggling at the pictures the Team Leader had taken.
She grabbed at the phone, demanding, "RUBY ROSE! DELETE THOSE PICTURES!"
"Nope!" Ruby chuckled, then dashed forth utilizing her Semblance, garnering a laugh out of Yang and a huff of indignation from Weiss as she gave chase. Blake and Yang continued walking toward the grocery shop, with the lattermost still smiling at the antics going on between her half-sister and her partner. She patted Blake on the back, then watched the black-haired beauty turn toward her.
"Told ya they'd start getting along," The sunny little dragon gal spoke, grinning ear to ear.
"Yeah, yeah, I know..." Blake chuckled. It'd been a couple months since the Team had started going to Beacon together, so this was about as normal as the new normal came to be for the gang, with the mysterious black-haired girl known as Blake Belladonna simply enjoying the sight of her team just bonding. It'd been some time since Blake felt even a semblance of relaxation.
The pair watched Weiss and Ruby run into the grocery store and intended to follow, but a thunderous crash echoed from the alleyway to the left. Both Yang and Blake gasped, then put on their serious faces, turning to each-other. Yang activated Ember Celica, her up-armored shotgun gauntlets, while Blake drew Gambol Shroud and switched it into pistol mode. The two rushed over toward the alleyway, finding a bent trash can, another turned-over one and...
A man clad in a green military uniform, hunched over and coughing. It wasn't a simple, dry cough either. The man coughed loudly and repeatedly, a wet cough. He was on all fours and coughing still. He clawed with one hand at his neck, pulling up the skull mask balaclava and undoing the clasp of his helmet, throwing both aside and onto the floor and coughing still. He straightened up, both the girls seeing blood foaming at the man's mouth and running down his chin.
His eyes were blurred, yellowish in color as he grabbed at his throat. He fell onto all fours again and coughed still, with Yang sitting there, stunned for a moment. She shook her head, then said, "Blake, call an ambulance, now!" as she rushed forward to the guy. He lifted a hand to show her to stay away as he still coughed, a yellowish, mustard-colored mist wafting from his mouth as he continued coughing, blood spattering the pavement below.
"Stay... Away..." He warned through dry heaves, "Not... Not safe..."
"I don't care, dude, you're clearly injured!" Yang barked, "Least tell us what happened, so we know what to tell the ambulance! Please?!"
He looked up at her, spit, snot and blood hanging off his face as the whites of his eyes began to clear. He swallowed, then spoke, his voice hoarse, "Gas..." before choking. He grabbed onto the edge of the still-standing trash can and retching inside it. A mix of blood and other fluids filtered out, combined with the scent of diluted ammonia, a sickening smell that made Yang's nose itch. She covered her mouth and face, pale as the guy who was currently emptying his guts and lungs, while Blake was already on the phone with the med staff.
"Don't..." He managed to speak out, "Don't... Call the docs... Risk of..." He heaved, then looked up at Blake, "Risk of spreading this shit..."
"Who... Who gassed you?" Blake wondered aloud, stunned and fearful, hand over the microphone of her scroll. The man fell backward, gulping down air after finishing his bout of stomach-emptying. A red gash was on his neck, visible under the collar and even more so against the pallid skin of the man. He stared at the two women before him, breathing through his mouth, before wiping it with his sleeve.
"... Where the fuck am I?" He demanded, staring at them, his eyes slowly clearing, yellowish tears flowing
"Intersection between Fifth and Ninth, Vale's residential sector..." Yang replied, "You sure you're okay, dude? Blake's still got the docs on the line-"
"No... No docs..." He spoke, "Stay at least several meters away from me, too... Fucking Ruskies did this..." He coughed and spat off to the side, before looking at the blood on his sleeves. He swallowed his spit, tasting the coppery taste of blood. He added, "Their little wannabe empire had to Collapse just after they finished a fucking new strand of Mustard Gas..."
"... What?" Both the girls stood there, stunned.
"Long story..." He blinked, then took his gloves off and wiped his eyes with his untainted hand, "Y'all said Vale?"
"Y-Yeah..." Yang nodded, "You need a hand getting up?"
"I'm alright..." He replied, then pulled out his canteen. He uncapped the sealed cylinder, sniffed it, then sighed, relieved at not feeling the stinging smell of the more painful Gas. He poured a lot of water in his mouth, on his face and on wherever the bile and blood had spilled from his coughing, cleaning himself up. He had emptied the canteen by the time he was done, spitting the water he had in his mouth off to the side. Shaking his head and wiping the droplets in his eyes, he staggered to his feet.
He grabbed his helmet and balaclava, as well as a pair of sunglasses from the floor. Pocketing the sunglasses and the balaclava, he clipped his helmet to his belt, then scanned the place. Blake asked, "Uhm... You looking for something-" and he once again lifted his hand, this time with his index up, a sign for Blake to wait. He marched over toward one of overturned bins and hummed, then nodded approvingly, pulling what looked to be a heavy-weight weapon out from underneath the trash and cleaning it up.
He sighed, "Well..." and he racked the bolt, watching a whole bullet and a link drop to the floor as the new one was fed in. He patted the weapon, then said, "Least you still work properly..." before pulling the sling over his shoulder and folding the weapon's bipod. He looked to the two women before him, licked his lips and said, "Sorry... Didn't mean to scare the living shit out of the lo-" He paused, then hummed, giving the girls a once-over, "Locals... Right."
"You good, man?" Yang raised a brow.
"Yeah, yeah, you just... Seem a little familiar is all," He shrugged, then shook his head, "Nevermind... Probably the gas is fucking with my head, still..." and sighed. He looked around and murmured to himself, "My main issue right now is that I'm actually talking to people. That and being alive..." as he looked around at the alley he had found himself in. Odd, it reminded him of home, slightly. Then again, any dirty, run-down place would remind him of home.
"So, uh..." Yang started, "Hi, I'm Yang, this is Blake..." and she motioned to the black-haired, amber-eyed beauty beside her. She then awkwardly asked, "What's your name, soldier-boy?"
He hummed, then said, uncaring of telling the truth at this point, "Victor Toma. Corporal Victor Toma... Call me Victor, or Vic, if you feel like it." All the while, his brain was still trying to wrap around his existence here after he had gotten hit by the Gas. Was this a case of the 'Attack of the Dead Men'? Was he just waiting for the effects to fully kick in? Or was he gonna walk out of this fine after throwing up his guts and half the liquid content he had in his lungs from it?
"Nice to meetcha, Vic," Yang then smirked. She walked up to him, trying to reach out for a shake of the hand, but he stopped her again. She paused, then hummed and said, "Oh, right... Probably think you're still contaminated, right?" and she chuckled awkwardly, looking the soaked soldier over. Well built, tall and hauling a weapon that looked like it was overweight compared to him.
"I am very likely still contaminated..." He said, then looked down at the pool of heavily diluted ammonia at his feet. He could still feel a slight tang, something cleaning out his sinuses, but it was nowhere near as awful as the concentrated clouds of the shit they'd poured down from the slopes in Ichkeria. Tugging at his collar and arranging the shirt underneath his camouflage jacket, the boy said, "... Maybe not..."
She smiled again, then approached him and extended her hand, all while her friend seemed a bit more worried about making contact with a guy whose very presence could potentially kill her if any hint of the bullshittium-tier mustard Gas was still stuck to his clothes. He hummed, then gripped and shook her hand with a nod, his face impassive, eyes sunken in.
The girls had taken a moment to register that the young man looked sullen, tired beyond belief for his age. Slight traces of grey hairs hanged out from underneath the helmet, which was tipped to the side. He straightened it out and clipped the latch back into place, tightening it. He hummed, then paused as he heard the clap of shoes against the concrete ahead. His fingers wrapped around his sidearm, a Glock pistol which sat in its holster.
"Woah, woah, woah, relax, dude!" Yang started as Ruby and Weiss appeared.
"Hey, you two! We were looking everywhere for-" Ruby paused as her silver gaze fell upon the soldier. She stood there, stunned for a moment, while Weiss also took in the sight of the soaked, tired soldier. She put a hand on Ruby's shoulder before she could rush forward to presumably lose it over the man's weapons. Ruby looked back to Weiss, seeing the concern in the girl's eyes, then looked back to the man. She then waved, awkward, "Hey..."
He nodded, "Hello..." as he visibly, but only slightly de-tensed, hand moving away from the pistol in the holster. He hummed, looked at himself, then noted, "Taking into account the fact that I just doused myself in water, I'm going to presume that, perhaps, I'm not as lethal as I would've been half a minute ago. And doubling down on that train of thought with seeing Blondie not absolutely fucking dying as a matter of fact... I'm probably clean."
"That's good," Ruby commented, "Clean from uh..."
"Gas, kid..." He replied eerily calmly, despite Yang and Blake's stunned expressions and the confusion in the two women's eyes. He added, pointing to the floor at the ammonia fumes still wafting around him from the diluted pool of the stuff, "Toxic gas. Got doused by the stuff during an ambush... Woke up this side of death, apparently..." before walking forward from the puddle and scratching his nose, "Anyways. Victor Toma's the name. Corporal. Call me Vic if you feel like it."
"Ruby," The youngest of the lot nodded.
"Weiss," The other replied warily.
"... So, what continent am I on? I never heard of Vale until just now?" Victor decided to press on. Better than to dwell on the matter of him having nearly turned himself into a biochemical weapon mere minutes ago. The four girls hummed, before Yang approached him and showed him what looked to be a highly-advanced, holographic smartphone. He blinked, looking at what the screen read, before murmuring, "... Huh. So I am fucking dead."
"Dude. Potty mouth..." Ruby murmured, which garnered a light, awkward chuckle out of Yang, a strained smile out of Blake and a blink out of Weiss. Vic, meanwhile, chose to ignore the matter entirely. He pulled his backpack off his back, popped it open and saw that, thankfully, for what was a basic-ass carry-bag in camouflage, it had retained some sort of seal and, thus, nothing inside, not even his MRE, had been damaged by the gas.
He sighed, then slid the bag back on and said, "Get me somewhere outta sight. I doubt the cops will like a dude clad in military kit just strolling around, carrying a machine gun."
The four exchanged quick looks, then nodded to the man and led him forward, out of the place. He strutted forth with them, now noticing that each of them carried something resembling a weapon. As suspicious as he'd have liked to be, he was fucking tired of shooting at this point. If one of them wanted to finish the job and off him on the spot, he wouldn't say no to it at this point.
The blonde's shotgun gauntlets retracted into bracelets, which caused him to stop there, staring for a second. He then followed them again, listening and looking around. The sights of a living city, bustling with people, all walking, talking, laughing and enjoying themselves. Some, he now noted, bore animal traits. Ears, tails, antlers. He blinked, shook his head and looked again, trying to make sure he hadn't lost it again. He had, in fact, not. There were half-animal people around.
Great, so he had died. The realization always struck like a fucking hammer, catching him off-balance for a simple moment. He noted to himself that he, perhaps, should not bother with this place. It might've been his mind just giving him a final moment to cope with his death before it shut off completely, a life inside his short death. He'd read about that shit before.
His mind stuck elsewhere, for the moment, the man climbed aboard the transport aircraft that'd take them to wherever the girls thought out-of-sight enough. If he was unlucky as fuck, maybe they'd put a bullet in the back of his skull and grab his shit. Scavs usually pulled that kind of crap. He hummed and looked the four worried girls over again, then sighed. No, they weren't scavs. Too well-dressed and well-equipped for what was a freakshow to him. Honestly, that might've been a little harsh.
The four girls, meanwhile, stared at the man as he gazed out of the side of the transport aircraft. He looked absolutely tired, the kind of tired only a veteran would be. Weiss hummed, then commented, "The poor man must've seen one too many things for his own well-being. Look at him..." while the rest of the team simply staring at him. They nodded understandingly...
"Gas, huh...?" Yang murmured, "They use the air as a weapon where he comes from."
"If the marks on his neck are anything to go by..." Blake whispered, "I doubt it's just the air, Yang. Else we might've seen similar results with people using Air Dust... No, the gas that hit him must've had something to do with a strange chemical mix. And I don't want to find out what that chemical mix would be right now, considering in how bad a shape he was."
"Yeah," Yang replied, then looked to Ruby, seeing her sister clearly worried. She bumped the girl on the shoulder with her fist, then smiled and said, "It's alright, Rubes. We'll figure the guy out..."
"Why did we not immediately send him off with a medical team?" Weiss inquired in a whisper, her own realization suddenly making waves through the team. The other three members looked to Weiss, terrified, then looked at him. She sighed and pinched her brow, "Of course, I'm the voice of reason. Did we, at the very least, call the Headmaster? Because I feel like he'd want to know about this."
Weiss's answer was a negative that quickly turned into a positive, however, as she saw the Headmaster sat at the landing pad. She picked up the bags of groceries and stood up, as did the rest of her team, as the aircraft approached the landing zone of the small city-school campus known as Beacon, a massive castle with a lot of annexes and buildings that'd been added over the years, including dorms.
The bulbous-hulled, lightly armored Bullhead transport aircraft landed, its VTOL engines shifting into their idle position as team RWBY and the soldier disembarked. Ozpin smiled at the girls, then said, "Worry not, ladies... I'll take this from here..." before lifting his Scroll. There was still an ongoing call between him and Yang, to which Yang pulled her scroll out of he back pocket. She smiled sheepishly, embarrassed, to which Oz chuckled.
"You butt-dialed..." Weiss sighed, then snorted, "Of course."
Vic shook his head and spoke, "Touchscreen phones tend to do that..." though his expression remained impassive. The Headmaster nodded, then waved team RWBY off. The four girls turned to Vic, waved, then departed, before Vic hummed and sized up the Headmaster, asking, "Take it you're the Lead here?" as he shifted his PKM onto his back. The man nodded.
"My name is Headmaster Ozpin, the man in charge of Beacon Academy and the students here. You are, young man?" He then asked, motioning to him.
"Corporal Victor Toma, Romanian Armed Forces and UNRUS Peacekeeping Force" He replied, eyes focused on Ozpin, "Didn't know there's a school that trains cosplayers, sir..."
Ozpin let out a short chuckle, arranging his tie, then said, "I assure you, corporal, miss Rose and her team are not just cosplayers. They can use the weapons they have on their persons for combat..." and motioned for him to follow. Victor did so with reluctance, fingers caressing the holster of his pistol from time to time as he examined the place itself. It was a big place, indeed. The pair approached the massive tower in the center, entered it and climbed aboard an ornate elevator, before ascending to the top.
There, he found himself in the massive open area of the top clock in the tower. He sighed, arranging his uniform, then murmured, "Nice place..." as he and Ozpin walked toward his desk. The Headmaster sat himself down and motioned toward a chair opposite him, in front of the desk he was sat at. Victor took the seat, setting his weapon and kit down on the glass floor, the sound of heavy gears ticking along in his ears muffled by the clink of the gun steel hitting the glass. He hummed, then took his helmet off, revealing the black hair that greyed at the tips.
Ozpin frowned for a moment, finally getting a proper look at the young man. He was generally a handsome fellow, as one would expect of a young man, presumably in his twenties, but the sunken, tired, sleepless eyes told a different story. Hands interlaced on his lap, the young man seemed to have micron-sized movements and slight twitches at any movement around him.
The second elevator dinged, its door sliding open with a hiss and the boy immediately wrapped his fingers around his pistol's grip. Ozpin spoke, "Stay calm, young man..." as he motioned the woman that had appeared over. Blonde, with emerald eyes and an outfit matching a teacher you'd see in a really weird online movie, or an anime, including the cape and riding crop, she walked up. Ozpin said, "Greetings, miss Goodwitch..."
"Headmaster..." She nodded, then looked to the boy and paused, "Oh... Hello."
He nodded, face still impassive as he watched the woman walk behind the desk. She leaned in and whispered something into Ozpin's ear, which he shrugged and said, "We'll find out now, Glynda..." before turning to Victor, "Apologies. This is Professor Glynda Goodwitch. Our combat instructor and the assistant headmistress of Beacon. Miss Goodwitch, this is Corporal Victor Toma... Not of any military we know, it seems."
"Oh..." She paused, as did Victor.
"Speaking of..." He hummed, then requested, "Would you care to enlighten us about your presence here, Corporal?"
"... Do I have a choice in the matter if I want warm food and a genuine bed instead of a fucking plastic cot?" He inquired, passive-aggressive, as he looked at the two of them. Ozpin shrugged, a bit stunned by the question, while Glynda seemed shocked at the sheer serious look he had asked that with. He sighed, then rubbed his face, "Why not? I'm dead anyway, right...?"
He shifted uneasily in his seat, "I'll make it brief... In my world, I'll assume, a big country decided to invade a smaller neighbor, a sibling state of theirs. Fairly similar languages, cultures, the likes. They were once part of a greater empire that encompassed a lot of the East of the continent I was born in, including parts of my own country, before they broke apart about... Like... Thirty, forty years ago, before my time."
"Oh..." Both of them processed the info, shocked.
"Yeah," He nodded, unabatedly explaining, "The war didn't go well for the big one, which had dreams of recreating its old empire despite the fact it was deeper in the shit than even my own country in every way, economic, civic and otherwise. David versus Goliath, if David had a high-tech missile launcher and a bunch of angry pals behind him to put Goliath down and Goliath was a drunk fuck, to put it simply."
"I see..." Ozpin hummed, "I take it the victory of the small country was guaranteed because they received aid?"
"From everyone and their mother, including my land," He replied, focused still, with a nod. "After the victory, well... You can imagine what happened when a country that was in such a sorry state lost the fucking war it was using to try and remain relevant on the wider political stage. If not, I'll spell it out. It fucking collapsed again. It immediately became a hundred warring states, small chunks of remaining power in the former capital, plus a bunch of separatists and warlords. Remember me mentioning UNRUS?"
"Yes," Ozpin hummed, mouth hidden behind his own hands, while Glynda listened on, stunned.
"... That was us. The United Nations Russian Theater Peacekeeping Task Force. All nations in the world deployed troops to stabilize the country and its remnants, because it had weapons of mass destruction. Y'know nukes, city wipers, chemical weaponry, that kinda stuff..." He added nonchalantly, watching their expressions shift from uncomfortable to downright horrified. He nodded, "Yeah. That was our prerogative. Secure and dismantle those weapons from all warlords... And we were making good progress, too."
Slight relief washed over Glynda's face, but Ozpin knew better. He had sensed the 'but'... And Vic humored him, "But... Of course... Some hoops had to be jumped through..." And he frowned, the first change of facial expression either had seen from him in a while. He continued, "First... It was us finding a former unit of that country's that we'd worked with in another unstable nation... Ninety percent casualties. That's nine in ten soldiers dead, including a..." He bit his lip and looked away, stifling some sort of outburst, clearly. Not of anger, but rather of sadness, considering the low voice with which he continued, "A very dear friend of mine. The only thing I can take solace in after finding their Mass Grave was that she'd died quickly..."
"... Oh," Both Ozpin and the horrified Glynda stopped.
"Yup..." he sighed, then scoffed and shook his head, "Anyways. To end the backstory and tell you what you wanted to know? My presence here's apparently courtesy of one of the fucking splinter forces, a terrorist force located in the southern mountains of the country, getting their dirty mitts on a fucking chemical weapon supply depot and laboratory... Which had a potent fucking variation of a gas used about one hundred years prior to kill during our First World War."
"First?!" Both seemed like their entire worldview had shattered then and there. Noting the disbelief in their eyes, Victor pulled his phone out of his breast pocket, his fingers brushing against something that felt like wood first. He sighed, squelching thoughts about that. No way in hell she would ever come back here. Pulling the phone out and opening it, he was surprised to see it still had power, plus a couple of unread text messages from one of his old friends from KFOR. 'Where are you?' was the single important question asked by the man...
He sighed, thumbed the smartphone open and searched something up in his Books and photo apps. He slid the phone on the glass desk and pointed at some of the photos. Images of Ichkeria, of the men around him and of the tanks. Before that, images of his KFOR ops, clearing out mine fields, ensuring the safety of villagers, that kinda shit. The text from the 'books' app revealed various news reels from his world which the two read intently, both going pale. He spoke, "KFOR and Ichkeria... First and last ops I partook in as a Peacekeeper. Three years apart."
"... Are you well, mister Toma?" Ozpin inquired, noting the stare the young man still wore.
"Frankly, Headmaster?" The man scoffed, "Fuck no. If I'm dead and this is just my brain giving me a nice little break before shutting down, fine... Don't try to play the hero and give me a spiel about finding a new life here or something. I don't know this place... I don't know any of you. Only things I could count on in that life..." He tapped aggressively above the phone, "Were my unit and the girl... My unit broke apart and all of us went back home after 2019. Rallied up in 2022 with a few, but not all of my old boys to go into the land... Some stayed behind. Some were in other units... As for the girl..."
He sighed, then plucked the phone from the Headmaster's hand and slid it back into the breast pocket of his jacket, "If that's all you got to ask for me, I'll have something ask you something tomorrow. Right now, I just want my food and bed so I can contemplate this shit with a clear head."
Glynda nodded, then phoned in to someone, presumably the local cooks, to fix up a meal. Ozpin looked to the boy and was about to speak, but he cut him off, "Nope... Don't, Headmaster. I've heard a lot of pep talks from people before. I'm dead. There's nothing more and nothing less to it than that. If I die again here, it's no biggie. Can't be any worse than being gassed alive..."
He stood to his feet, continuously stunning Ozpin even as he spoke, "If you need someone to pull security, I need a place to lay low... Give me a fair wage and you've got a machine gunner with a bone to pick with anything that pisses me or my employer off..." before watching as the Headmaster slowly moved back and pulled out a larger tablet-like Holo-device. He tapped in a set of information, somehow took a photo of his face, before handing it to him to sign. He did so, then departed with a quick salute as miss Goodwitch lead him out.
"... Poor boy..." Ozpin murmured, the images of Ichkeria still there.
... Glynda had lead him to a rather large four-bedroom house, each bedroom with its own bathroom. She handed him a 'Scroll', then said, "It's... All yours, corporal. Use the Scroll to lock and unlock the door... Now, if you'll excuse me..." She stepped out of sight quickly, probably having a breakdown. Victor huffed, then stepped toward the door and opened it like he'd open a hotel room... The place was spacious and there was the scent of cooked food on the table in the middle of the living. There was a TV, a fully stocked kitchen to his left, next to the entrance and four Bedrooms, two up top and two down below.
He took his plate of food, climbed to the top after locking the main door, entered the right-most dorm and set his plate down on his desk. Undoing all the belts, he tossed aside his equipment and collapsed onto the bed, which had fresh sheets, before letting out a deep sigh. He blinked, staring up at the ceiling with a pair of empty eyes. He then quietly asked, "Why...? Why am I back...? Why couldn't I just... Go see her? One last time..."
He had asked no-one in particular, of course, as he felt the weight of his own sins. He gazed upon the faces of friends... Her face, most of all.
He drifted off to a restless sleep.