/AUTHORS NOTE: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS DEPICTIONS OF ANXIETY ATTACKS AND MENTIONS OF SUICIDE. THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING./

I can't breathe. My lungs feel tight. My hands are shaking too much. All I can hear are voices in my head, and none of them are calm. Everything hurts. My head hurts. My arms hurt. I feel like pins and needles are stuck into my body at every angle and point. I can't move to try and steady myself. My vision is darkening though my mind is screaming. I can barely see someone quickly running into my tent. Their body looks sharp and crystalline. I can feel my heart beat faster than it already was. I start to remember bits and pieces of things my own mind blocked out. There was.. a tree. There was.. someone I knew.
I blink. It's all gone as fast as I remembered it. Medic is in front of me, but it doesn't look like her. I know who it is, but I don't believe myself. My vision flickers between two different people. Tears roll down my face. I just can't get a grip. I'm just so useless. Nobody wants me here. I'm completely worthless. It'd be better if I never existed in the first place.

Everything just hurts. I'm just so tired.

***

He's out cold. It's the first time he's ever had a reaction this extreme to an anxiety attack. Most of the time, I, or someone else, for that matter, manage to calm him before anything really hits the fan. I should at least try and get him into his bed.
Picking him up is harder than expected. Now that I think about it, I should have removed some of his gear.

I somehow manage to place him down softly on his sheets. All his blankets have been curled up into a ball and placed at the very end of his bedframe, for some reason or another. I may as well straighten them out for him.

He's completely tucked in now. Can't believe this is happening amidst all this chaos. I'm already tired of dealing with those damn Titans. One is enough for me, but two? That's death in a few months. Who knows how long this sedative will work.

They could fight back any day.

***

Medic walked back into the ward as I continued examining the blades of both mine and Equinox-whatever-his-name-was. His Darkheart was indeed pretty similar, but it was nowhere near identical to mine.
"Have any of them stirred yet?" Medic sighed. Scout, Paintballer and I all responded with a shake of our heads. Medic was clearly already quite stressed, and with all this going on, it didn't exactly help.
I put down Equinox's sword and walked over to Medic, lowering my voice to a whisper.
"Hey.. is Ranger alright? This is partly my fault, after all. Kinda feel guilty about it."
Medic nodded her head curtly. "He's fine. He just needed some rest."
Good, good. At least I can get that off my chest. I'm not one to be self-conscious, especially not over somebody else. It's just that I've grown to tolerate these people like family. And any family deserves my respect.

***

The yellow humanoid continued walking. He had been walking for hours. One could call him a wanderlust, though he didn't find that descriptive of him. He was one man, with one sword, although he only had one purpose. A purpose that nobody knew, not even himself. At this point, it was only a matter of time before he came across someone, or something.

A small legion of blue-clad warriors had set up camp just off the beaten path, though they happened to come in contact with him.
A shiver ran down his spine. These were fighters, with even their mere presence setting in a layer of frost deep into his bones.
One of the warriors double his height approached first.

"Little human. State your purpose."

He was dead silent. He had no knowledge that their leader had perished a few weeks ago, fracturing their already-fragile command, making them split off into groups.
He was studying them. All of them, for weaknesses to be exploited in a fight.
The one that had approached him was calm, bearing a hood, mask, and a long cloak. It spun its staff defensively as his silence continued.

"G-give us an answer, and you may pass!"

It was.. nervous. He chuckled at the thought. Just then, another one of warriors stood up and approached him, standing side by side with the staff-wielding one. It put a hand on its shoulder and pushed it back softly.

"Back off, Necro. I'll handle this one."

This one was taller, nearly a complete head taller than than the staffed one. It wore a gladiatorial-style helmet, and heavy, shining armour. As it walked closer to him, its eyes glowed brighter and wings flapped behind it.
Looking down on him, it smirked.

"So. What do you want, shortie?"

He didn't remember much, but he remembered being called that. Distinctly.
He took a step closer. It held its ground. Taking one more step, it stayed where it was, detaching a sword from its back with a clunk. It held it menacingly toward him. Even the sword was large, being nearly the same size as the cloaked one, now standing behind it. He shook his head.
He knew that there was no point in diplomacy now. All this would eventually mount to a fight. May as well get it over with.

He unsheathed his katana, its blade gleaming in the frostlight. He crouched down, into his poise, prepared for battle. Speaking up for the first time, his voice sounded through the area.

"I am Ronin Alpha, the First Drifter! Hesitation is death. Face me now, or never again."

The warrior chuckled, then broke into a laugh. It spun its sword, taking it in both of its hands. It held its arms open, as if to challenge him.

"Hah! Bring it on, squirt! Face the might of the right hand of the Angel of Ice!"

/tah-dah. new chapter. gonna be gone for a few weeks in july-august, but i know that isn't really saying much on my part./
/word count: 1050/