To say Khamsin was annoyed was a understatement.
Firstly, his entire life was around the idea of freedom. And now here he was self-reflecting his morals because of a dull mutt.
"Freedom cannot be forced on others. It must be earned for oneself." The blasted machine had told him as he died. Almost two hours ago, Khamsin would have merely laughed at the statement. That the idea of taking something that could be granted to others was selfish. That's what he was told, And Good soldiers followed orders. And yet, perhaps it was right. Khamsin was hypocritical. Was they not forcing freedom in Iraq? Was they truly the one in the right?
Secondly, He was half-convinced Mistral had betrayed him. He and the French woman had never got along. It was almost unsurprising that her little 'Pet project' had been the one to bring him down.
"Freedom..."
The words that once charged his soul with meaning now left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Khamsin had lost everything in Iraq. His Wife, his daughter. All faded away into the burning hot sand and blowing away in the blazing wind. Desperado had been the one to pick up the shattered shell that was once Khamsin. Their words of freedom was what reignited his embers. And now, it had seemed like he would be forgotten. His entire life and sacrifices brought to nothing. Just as a soldier's fate would be.
"What truly is freedom?" He thought as he opened his eyes.
He was in... A forest? His eyes darting around taking in the overwhelming colour of green. Was he not dead, cast of to the eternal flaming abyss of hell? Unable to see his loved ones who he continued, despite everything for.
He felt... Fine. His cybernetic mech-suit was in perfect condition. That was strange. He self-destructed. It SHOULD be destroyed. Cast away like himself. And the biggest surprise of them all he had legs! It was impossible. He had lost them in Iraq alongside his humanity and morality. He had to get them turned into fuckin' wires connected into his mechanical body, for fucks sake!
He slowly, and carefully climbed out of the mech. Ignoring the few scars that the wires caused.
He stared blankly at his new legs. Unable to comprehend such a thing. He took a step. Still in absolute shock. And he had moved. A single step and it just didn't sit right with him.
He quickly distracted himself with something else. Climbing up top of his mech to see if he could gaze above the trees.
He noticed a large almost like a city, large walls surrounding the buildings in the distance. A big road going up to seemed to be a entrance to the walls. The sheer magnitude of the capital was intimidating. A small cartridge, horse driven was on it's way into the entrance. As much as he wanted to. It was very clear that whatever this place was. It was very medieval timed. Showing up unannounced with a mecha suit of all things would certainly raise a lot of questions and suspicion But he didn't want to just leave it there.
Against his better judgement, Khamsin activated the lock on his mech. Closing the cockpit and making his slow walk to the city.
Perhaps fate had other plans for the Desert Storm.