As the pair reach the border of district 13 they are met with a large iron wall encasing the entire district. “What's going on?” Tim asks one of the border guards, “not sure?”, he responds, “the faced just put a massive wall around us, I guess we’re blockaded.”.

Cyrus looks to the ground and mutters, “this is it, an entire district with no faced, only faceless?”. “What are you getting at Chris?” Tim asks frustratedly. “Are you dumb?” Cyrus shouts, “they’re going to fucking bomb district 13 you idiot”. Tim puts his face in his hands, “fuck…Fuck! This was their fucking plan the whole fucking time”. Tim starts to walk back towards the hideout, “what the fuck are you doing?” Cyrus asks angrily, “C’mon there might still be time to fix everything”, Tim says as he starts yanking on Cyrus’ arm, “are you fucking demented? We need to find a fucking bomb shelter or something, we can’t be worried about stragglers right now, we need to find James and ditch all the dead weight rapid”, Cyrus says furiously.

*Why you trynna save James?*

Cyrus drops to his knees holding his head, “fuck off…FUCK OFF!” he shouts at himself. “Jesus Chris” Tim shouts in shock, his voice shaky, “I get that you haven’t been taking Benny’s death well…”

*yes yes, Benny’s death…your best friend*

“Ahhhhh” Cyrus screams in pain, he starts to repeatedly punch his head. “Shut up, shut up, you shut the fuck up”

“Chris seriously what’s the matter with you, we can get through this”

*yes Chris, you two can get through it, just the two of you, you and that fucking halfbred friend of yours, the power of friendship right*

Cyrus’ breathing shallows, he gets the attention of one of the border guards. The guard looks to Tim, “Tim, put your friend in the back of that car over there”, the guard tosses a pair of keys to Tim, “bring it back when you don’t need it anymore”. 

Tim drives Cyrus back to base, speeding through near empty streets, Cyrus is in the back of the car shaking, hitting his head, shouting non stop, “stop…stop…stop”. 

They arrive at the doors they had just walked away from no less than two hours ago, Tim knocks on the door leaving Cyrus in the car. A large bald faceless man opens the door, out of the corner of his eye Cyrus can see them having an intense discussion, although everything seems intense to Cyrus right now as his brain is attacking him. The large man who Cyrus could faintly hear being referred to as ‘Wallace’ by Tim opens the back door of the car and pins Cyrus down by his shoulders, Cyrus’ shaking does not subside. Two other large, faceless guys run out of the base to assist Wallace with one of which putting a cloth to Cyrus pores, putting him to sleep

Cyrus awakens to feel an intense pain in his upper arms, he looks down to see blood in two large puddles at either side of him, when he looks up Tim is looking at him with a look of empathy. “We had to check you for a tracker Chris, everywhere you go there’s trouble, we thought maybe they slipped you a chip in the prison”. Wallace walks in behind Tim and takes a seat, “this right here is Wallace”, Tim says, “me and him go way back, back to my days as a revolutionist”, “you gonna tell him?”Wallace says slightly annoyed, “you gonna tell him or will I?”. Tim sighs, “you were right about the bombing”. “How do you know?”Cyrus asks puzzled, “we have an insider report”, Tim responds, “in three days hell is gonna be rained over district 13, we have an escape plan but unfortunately the rest of the population is gonna be eviscerated”. “You trust that father of yours to be on our side?” Cyrus asks curiously. “Oh this information didn’t come from McNulty”, Wallace adds excitedly, “it came from our own men on the inside, our very own faceless members of the regime”. 

Faceless members of the regime? Faceless members of the regime? Faceless members of the regime? The words hit Cyrus’ head like a loud buzzing noise faceless members of the regime? Faceless members of the regime?

“So have we got a plan for after we leave the walls?”, Tim asks, as Cyrus’ entire sense of logic falls apart before him. “Not yet I’m afraid”, Wallace responds. Wallace punches his chair in anger and says, “all the boys have accepted the amount of casualties in this bombing, the boys inside are gonna do an assassination and take a hostage tonight before they swing by and get us, but nothing they can do to stop the bombing”. “Oh who’re they gonna assassinate?”Tim asks, “None other than vice president Huler Viere” Wallace responds smugly. 

Cyrus’ little internal Crysis halts as he hears a familiar name

Huler Viere? Huler? They…they’re gonna kill Huler. 

Cyrus’ brain manages to pull three still frames from his lifetime, one of them is him standing in between a trembling kid and his dad with a belt pointed in his direction, the other of him passing the remote control of his favourite remote control car to this same kid, a third showing this same kid, a few years older, getting sworn in as vice president of the regime while Cyrus watches from the front row. All of these memories are from a third person view, yet none of them have his face visible to him

Huler. Huler’s gonna die and I’m stuck here, stuck here with these fucking rats. Is one faced worth the trade off? the bombs will probably wipe out at least 1 million faceless. Still though that's not just one life, that’s Huler’s life. Huler, my best friend, he’ll expect to see me at the gates of heaven, instead I’ll be living through hell. He’ll die without seeing me pull off the greatest mission of the regime's history, rest in peace buddy, I’ll get my mission done then I’ll come to see you.