May he be eaten by a dragon.

All his smooth talk, all his hot air, and he fucked everything to shit.

If those access codes were right, your team would be two stronger right now.

But of course, the steaming pile of drek couldn’t even own up to his own mistake. He knew. He knew the codes were wrong, but he couldn’t own up to his own failure. He probably hoped you’d all end up smears on the wall of that factory. Lucky you got out at all. A shame YmĂ©nez and Hugo weren’t as lucky.

But of course, you’re not gonna sit here and think about it all night. Oh no. Fallen teammates? Sad but practically inevitable in this business.

And you’ve got a teflon-coated bastard with Wulf’s name on it.


The Writing's On The Wall christophernies