Post Land War.

Year : Unknown - Time : unknown, probably in the middle of the night - Place : Localisation is down, somewhere across a high deck.

I look at the blood.
At the gun.
Unable to cope. To understand.
How did it come to this ? The tattoo beneath my sleeve stings and the wound below my flank is burning. Blood spurts through my clenched teeth, making me dizzy.
The story is on repeat as I stand above corpses right in the middle of the bridge, the building still towering above the scene, bathing everything in streaks of artificial lights and night shadows.
I see faces, long hair, short hair, pale skin, veiled eyes, gaping mouths, images that I should recognise but no name seems to come to my dried throat and lips.
My mind sounds blank, my heart aches.
I can't breathe.
I try but I can only choke painfully as tears keeps obstructing my view, flowing down my cheeks.
None of this was supposed to be happening. My ears are throbbing, distorting any sound making it past the awful screeching noise that fills my skull.
My hands are cold, nearly frozen and I can barely move them. I can barely move at all.
I had tried.
Hard.
But is there anything good I can do ?
The gun in my hand feels heavy and yet I can't seem to drop it down. I can't do anything about the tension running in my muscles and the pain sizing my chest.
I can't do anything about the blood covering my hands, my arms, my neck, my face.
I feel it dripping. 
I want to scream. I can't.
I crumble down.
Is there any good in me ?