He walks down the street of his parents house, reminiscing of days of old. The days when he was years younger and walked along the sidewalk with a backpack full of textbooks. He didn’t like how weak he was back then, both physically and mentally, but he wasn’t a fan of the man he is today either.
As he stops his march in front of his home, full of sweet memories of love and innocence, he detachs the compact, high powered rifle from its sling across his chest and brought it up to aim with his right eye. His parents had long since left the ruins of that home. Only thing left in the house were enemies. Enemies of the state.
-Choose your leaders carefully, world. Things will never be the same again-