#characterrevival

As the flames ravaged at the structure of Baxter Industries, the possibility of survivors became that much smaller and hope was even more distant. Buildings that had survived the blasts of many tests were now crumpling into burnt debris in ash, and a legacy was nothing more than smoke in the wind. The walls of the compound were the only thing that stood, blocking the fire from the thick surrounding wilderness. On one side, a single grunt was heard - exhausted and pain-stricken; before a shrouded figure fell onto the hardened dirt on the forest-side - safe from the flames albeit momentarily. Aiden fell against the wall and attempted to catch his breath, heaving heavy pants as he finally filled his smoke-tainted lungs with fresh air. His eyes clenched shut as he fought through pain and exhaustion; a pain rattled “fuuuuck” escaping him through clenched teeth as he pulled himself to the feet, dragging his back against the brick wall. He sat there for a moment, contemplating his next move before the sounds of a horses footfalls against the stone road nearby caused him to silence himself. A woman riding her steed, panicked as she made her way closer to the burning compound with a single torch in hand to illuminate her path.  Wilder. Not today, lass. I’m sorry.

He peered left and right, attempting to find anyone else who may stop him. With a fist bracing his injured arm, he shuffled into the forest with a lowered head and a revolver gripped tightly in his hand - disappearing into the shadows.

They will think I’m dead, but I must do what needs to be done. I will return.

I hope.

Only a few more miles to the ocean where he had a boat waiting, ready to sail him to Kul Tiras so that his manhunt could begin.

“Out with the old and in with the new. Life sure is grand.”

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