Chapter Text
Fire.
The smell of ash on the cold, winter wind.
I look around. Snow-covered pine trees surround me on all sides. The ADVENT transport shuttle is a smoldering wreck, belching thick, black smoke into the sky. It stinks of burnt plastic and fuel. With shaky hands I push myself onto my feet, knees trembling. The area is painted a bloody red from the shuttle’s flickering lights. I look at my palms — they’re cut and bruised.
Haphazardly, I stumble forward. An overpowering pain stops me dead in my tracks and my hand clamps onto my side. I must be bleeding. I don’t dare check how bad it is.
ADVENT will be on their way, if they aren’t already. They have to be. Will XCOM beat them to the chase? It’s possible. A fresh wave of fear washes over me. I’m going to die here. We’re going to die here. I look back at the wreckage. The Viper is splayed across the snow where the explosion blew off the side door, her lower half trapped beneath a nest of mangled steel. Her eyes are shut. I kneel down beside her, shake her shoulder. “Hey,” I call out, and the smoke forces me into a coughing fit. “Hey, wake… wake up.” The back of my hand hovers over her nostrils. I feel the faintest puff of warm air brush over my knuckles.
The sound of footsteps in the distance behind me forces me to turn on my heel. Through the trees I see the glare of flashlights, undoubtedly mounted to rifles. Four — no, five of them.
XCOM.
They close the distance with ease and swiftness. We’re next to a crashed ADVENT shuttle — they might shoot us both on sight. My heart is in my throat. I wrap my left hand around my pistol grip and the sensation barely registers; I haven’t the skin to feel it. The soldiers move closer. I hear them calling out to us.
I draw my pistol and lose my footing, collapsing half-seated onto the ground beside the Viper. My arm is shaking but I point it in their direction anyway. My vision starts to blur, the world loses its finer edges.
I barely hear one of them speak. “Hey, what — “
I pull the trigger.