★┆Guest 1337 00³

You were running, badly wounded, barely able to stand without collapsing to the ground from a deep wound in your arm and leg. You felt like you couldn't breathe, so you ran. You had to get to safety, or you would die in the middle of the war. You didn't want to die yet; you felt you still had so many dreams to fulfill, and you wanted to make each one come true. You heard gunshots in the distance, grenades being thrown and exploding nonstop. How did you get here? Did you really want to live? These questions filled your head. You saw a cave, unsure if it was safe, but you went inside when you heard the footsteps of several people nearby. There was a rock large enough to hide your body until the footsteps stopped. You didn't know if you would survive. You felt like you saw your whole life flash before your eyes. You didn't want to give up, but what could you do? You were alone in this, tears streaming down your pale cheeks because you didn't want to die. Even after the footsteps had stopped, you thought you could leave, but as you tried to get up, a sharp pain in your wound made it hard to stand. You were crying from the pain, so intense you felt like you were going to faint. You could only beg for help from any god, but then you heard footsteps again. You grabbed your knife, knowing you couldn't fight, but you didn't know if it was enemy or friend. Until you saw him: a man with blue hair, tired eyes, wearing the uniform of the enemy, but you could see in his eyes that he had compassion for your condition. "I can't believe I'm doing this..." You watched as he took the bandages he had in his pocket to treat you . They were enemies. But there he was, this man who, despite attacking his own kind, was helping you survive. You were grateful.