"AMBUSH! BACK TO THE CHOPPER!" Hayden's shrieking yell was only amplified by the headsets, nearly bursting Jared Freeman's eardrums. He gritted his teeth, before spitting on the sand in front of him. Flurries of razor sharp sand were flying around them, biting into their skin, rubbing off pieces of their faces. They knew running would't help; the knew most of them were going to die.

Jared wasn't going to let it happen.

He turned on his heel, and rushed to meet the colossal Sand Elementals that were attacking. This was what he had trained for, right? To eliminate the big bad, and save the human world. Retreating was for cowards, for the Death division. Suns did not retreat. They fought, and they died. Jared was ready to fight, and possibly die. He had no love life, he never had. Life before Deus was filled with homework and the gym, and life as a trainee was too demanding.

There was only one regret he would leave the world with, if he died. He'd never kissed a girl.

Well, too damn bad. His hunting knife's runes glowed angrily as he pulled it up, before launching it at the beast of sand. The knife was absorbed.

"Son of a-" The curse was stopped short, as he felt a sandy hand wrap around his torso. He could feel the earth leaving him as he squirmed, desperate to flee now. Maybe retreat wasn't for cowards, after all.

Then, he was grounded suddenly, sand hand falling in to a heap. He could hearing roaring, howling, a blade deftly swinging, sand whipping. He was still shocked, on his hands and knees. Suddenly, a terrible screech - sounding as if static and nails on a chalk board had a baby - pierced the air. An avalanche of sand exploded, creating dunes and hills. Somehow, Jared ended up completely unharmed. The other Elementals fled, leaving trails of sand in their wake.

Jared stood, scanning the area for his sudden savior. He saw a glimmer of black, and rushed towards it, tripping over himself multiple times. His legs were all cut up from the razor sand, and his body ached from the Hulk grip of the Elemental who captured him.

His shape was nothing compared to Hayden's. Their leader was nearly shredded, only recognizable by his flood of neon yellow hair, and his black blade. His dark brown eyes were lidded, mouth parted and panting. He was dying, and he knew it. He pushed the blade to Jared, giving him a nod of satisfaction.

"Brave boy. Don't be so reckless next time. Do... great."

Jared's mentor, team leader, and godfather was dead.

---

Jared carried that memory with him for the next six years, constantly eating at him. He grew calloused to the world, and took his anger out verbally on anyone who slipped up, made a simple mistake, or blew a whole mission. Mistakes killed, fools were murderers. He knew that because he was one. He'd killed his godfather with his idiocy, the blade he carried a badge of that day of idiocy.

On missions, he would always be the first to charge in, dreaming of redemption by glorious death. He, as a murderer, was allowed to - supposed to - die. He deserved it, and he made sure his teams knew it. But he never did die. It was always them; his teammates. They came and went, all leaving their mark on his calloused heart. So many good soldiers, innocent of foolishness, died on his watch. Their lives pushed him harder to redeem himself of his mistakes. He could always see their faces, always hear their voices.

And it was all his damned fault they died.

---

He finally kissed a girl. He'd never met her before that night, but he kissed her pretty damn well. A dip kiss with no match, he believed. It was the first time he'd been happy in quite a while.

---

He died defending humanity from the apocalypse. He'd taken down one last creature, before being impaled by some sort of scorpion thing.

The faces of fallen comrades flashed before him, all smiling. He had redeemed himself in glorious battle, the way Hayden had.

A new face appeared in his mind, one with long horns accentuated with thorns, and short red hair. Sloan.

< Do you regret, Jared?>

' Non, je ne regrette pas.'