Come on and slam.

His ammunition had long since run out, his swords shattered, more blood than metal. Nothing but broken, people could describe him. Speaking of broken... His attention turned to his left hand. His gauntlets had been broken... What, the third? Second month? He couldn’t remember. With a dismissive shrug, he rose from his pond, feeling the water around him meld and splash back into the clear liquid below.

She would be back, he thought, and today would be the day. He quickly ripped some of the moss that been growing on his helmet off with a grunt. Earth was a dangerous, desolate place; he was familiar with the concept of the overgrown jungles being a coffin for the uninitiated and the weary. Even though he was a trained soldier, the was no doubt in his mind that he would join them soon enough if he couldn’t get off the planet. 

So there he was, still dripping water, standing above a grineer encampment. His eyes locked onto a grineer patrol, just below him.

They would die first.

 He took one step. One, two more. They heard him coming. Bullets graze and scrape, voices raise, and blood spills. It wasn’t easy, sure, but the two unrecognisable piles of flesh beside him showed that he could still fight. He picked up the grakata of the first victim. Cold. Heavy. It had been too long since he’d used a gun. 

There was no time to practice, as another patrol rounded the corner to investigate. He fired. One, two, three bursts spells the end of the two man-patrol. His head spun, and he dropped to his knees as the static came back, ripping into his head and sending shockwaves of pain through his entire body.

He would not last for much longer. He pondered. How long would it be before his body gave way? Before he rusted away, and became one with the earth? The thought calmed him, strangely. But he would not die today, he thought, and raised once again from the ground. His attention snapped to the sky as he heard potential salvation.

Ship.

His hearing was true; a liset - a beautiful, green and gold - flew past him and set down a bit away from him. This was it! This what he was waiting for! He took a step forward. Whoever was in that could help him! He took more, coming close to the ship. He stared at the reflective front, his breathing slowing.

Was that?

No, it couldn’t be him.

But there the reflection stood. His left arm which he had thought was broken wasn’t there at all. There was no blood. There was nothing there. His helmet had been splintered as the rampaging moss had taken over, forcing the plates that held it together to be pushed and torn away from each other. He was more nature than person.

Speaking of, why was there nothing in his helmet? It didn’t make sense. A giant cleave mark showed what was beneath the helmet. Besides moss, there was nothing.

The static came back.

He feels to his knees.

No. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be real at all this doesn’t make sense why would -

Why would they lie?

His thoughts ripped through his head and caused him pain the static couldn’t give him. He could barely hold himself together. The clicking of slow footsteps didn’t phase him.

“Rhino, I presume?” The voice was feminine, cold, and demanding.

“I think it’s time you knew.” He felt something cold, something hard press up against his neck.