The end of a run. Covering the team's back as we escape on foot. We've stolen... something... Not really sure what. Not too interested in finding out. I'm earning my pay by making sure that anything following us meets enough airborne discouragement to think twice.
I lag behind, eying the alleyways for activity. As I round a corner, I'm met by the ork.
What's he doing?
Before I'm able to react, he greets me with a deafening blast of white-hot light. Fire rips through my skull, and everything fades away.
A sharp inhale, and I open my eyes to the darkness of my bedroom.
Huh. It's been a while, friend.
Sitting up, I spark a cigarette. The dull glow is strangely soothing.
It's decided. I'm gonna find that motherfucker.
I'm going to kill him.
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