Hater looked out all around him. He was loosing. His field of view was filled with death, pain and suffering. The despair was slowly imprinting itself into his stubbornly prideful soul. They we loosing. The realisation was more painful then the wounds he bore. His eyes locked with Peepers'. The expression on his friend's face was that of pure hopeless. Hater had a difficult choice to make, flee and live coward or die fighting andprobably be forgoten by history or be remembered as the greatest villain in the galaxy who put up a fight til the end. But why? why only those 2 options and why only choose 1 of the 2? Couldn't there be a third option? the second option seemed appealing but Hater didn't like the dying part. The lightbulb in his head suddenly turned on and he sprung into action.

He sprinted to where Peepers and Wander were standing. He sprung into the air, thunderbolt dagger at all. He plunged it into Wander's chest. The impact wouldn't kill him but thehistory books will now definitly remember his name. Hater smiled, pulled out a pistol and shot the cuffs, freeing Peepers.

"You're amazing." Peepers mumbled in awe.

"i know." Hater replied as he held his friend's hand.

they ran off together. Far away. Knowing that someday, they would return and reek cold blooded vengence on Galaxy. But until then, they'd be living off the grid, in hiding, avoiding everybody.