Distortion

[Wesker]

Deck 3 Lounge Dabadoru Outpost, Omicron Delta
03/30/827 AS, 19:00

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The violence had hit staggering highs in the pat few months. The Core were more intent than ever on taking back their beloved outpost, but of course, everything that can go wrong will go wrong.

The lounge was empty at this hour, every minute the duty crew wasn't underway they were sleeping. That was the "protocol" in situations like this; until the alarm went off - you were in your rack. But that wasn't the case for one man, not tonight anyways. Something was keeping him awake, more so than usual. He sat on one of the couches, scrolling down through CNS records on his hand held PDA. All them revolving around one particular subject, with no shortage of popularity.

As he scrolled and scrolled, taking in all the negativity, violence, and mischief that surrounded his person of interest - tears began to slowly roll out his eyes. "Deaths range in the thousands." "Rheinland's most wanted." He dropped the PDA, laying back in the couch, and placing both hands over his eyes. He took in a few sharp breaths through his nose and out his mouth, his face was peach red for the time being before he could regain himself a little. Once he finally could, his hands left his face and landed at his sides, he just laid there - starring up at the ceiling like it hypnotized him.

I'm so sorry. He muttered to himself as he continued to gaze into the ceiling.

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