As I press forward I allow myself to focus to a much higher degree than before. The world slows ever so slightly, one second becoming two, then four, then eight, then further. Annoying as always, I also slow along with it, with a slight feeling of mild sensory deprivation and general physical detachment. I slowly (quickly) raise my gun to align with the head of a nearby insurgent. I pull the trigger and feel the trigger sear disconnect from the hammer, and the imperceptible impulse delivered rearward as the hammer rotates to strike the firing pin, in turn igniting the primer and allowing the 200gr projectile to start its journey to fulfill its true purpose. As the bullet leaves the barrel there is a slight rearward impulse as the carrier absorbs most of the recoil, until it slams the buffer into the rear of the buffer tube, providing the shock and force that I need to slowly (quickly) move on to the next target. Though the action is slightly violent due to being overgassed from the suppressor that I am running, I prefer it this way so that I can almost have at least some of my actions catch up to my brain. As the carrier moves forward I align my sights on the next guard, who still has yet to realize what is happening. The carrier continues forward, slowing slightly as it strips a round from the magazine and then rotates into the locked position. At this point I ride the reset until I feel the disconnector release the hammer, at which time I pull the trigger again. The action cycles as I align on the third and final member of this group, who is just now reaching down slowly for his gun. I ride the recoil into his chest and, feeling anxious, put a round in the chest before placing another in the head. I continue to clear my sector and hold my position as the rest stream in the door slowly (quickly) in an alternating fashion.

After a while (a few seconds) Jones gives me two slow (swift) taps on my right shoulder. I begin moving down the hallway with Jones to the right as Townsend and Marsh take the left. We sweep the building and take out two more moving sentries before reaching what appears to be a main office. I tap my throat mic twice then thrice, receiving back 1-3 from Townsend and 2-3 from Corvo. We wait in position as Townsend gives us a 1-1 and then makes his way to rendezvous with us. I send up another 2-3 and receive two more 2-3s in return. After Townsend and Marsh Reach our position, we prepare to breach again. I tap the mic four times and Marsh kicks the door in. As Marsh turns out with the leftover momentum from the kick, I go in guns up with my sidearm. As expected, there was an individual, likely the cell leader, behind a desk in the center of the room. We push in and don't execute the HVT (intel repository) immediately, instead planning on a more diplomatic approach. The other hostile in the room, currently holding a reporter at gunpoint, doesn't seem to like the diplomatic approach. He angrily yells out in Bosnian before leveling the handgun toward Jones. Before he is able to act on his intentions I have already allowed my sidearm to deposit 230gr of lead into his now much more empty cranial cavity. As the pistol recoils and begins to load another round, Marsh moves to secure the hostage, prompting the leader to draw his revolver, a short snub nosed hunk of junk. He levels the pistol at me, but I'm not worried because Jones has him. But then the shot from Jones doesn't land where it should, merely taking a chunk out of the leaders ear. As my body struggles to re align in order to eliminate the hostile, he continues to raise his gun towards me. My muscles, screaming from the strain that they are put under, fail to move as quickly as I would have liked. I manage to align my sidearm and pull the trigger just in time to see the hammer fall as the leader tries to pull his trigger. The hammer strikes the firing pin, sending the round downrange toward the intended target. At almost the same time his face is rearranged, the leader pulls the trigger on the revolver and allows the revolver to lob a piece of lead in my direction with a flash of excess powder, specifically at my face. As the slug traveled towards my dome as I heard the comms light up, likely from Corvo informing me of  success on his end, though it sounds completely like static at this rate. As my tension is driven up so is my flux, and I continue to be further detached from the situation. The nearer the bullet comes, the slower it approaches. I have had fun narrating all of this out to God knows who, and I absolutely should, given that this is the last event that will occur within my grey matter aside from its impending displacement.

As the bullet is nearly boring into my eyebrow, time is almost still. I can see Marsh, almost to the hostage, who will likely secure them quickly and efficiently, resolving this terrifying ordeal for them. Jones, who is to my right, seems to be reacting, but it's too late anyways. I hate to say this as there is no way it will reach you, but I'm really glad it's me and not you. I wouldn't be able to face Sheryl if anything happened to you, nor would I be able to go to Jackson's 5th birthday party as I had planned either, though I guess that's a bit of a moot point now. I can't see Townsend at the moment, but I know he's behind me. Hopefully this helmet that failed to protect me from this bullet on the way in will protect you from getting collateraled by the lead and brainy bits on the way out. I hope y'all can tell command I'm sorry, and hopefully you can all help my parents get through this. I wish all of you the best, truly. It's been a fun ride, but it looks like I get off here.

As the round finally makes contact with my eyebrow, I luckily can't feel the nerves from that area. My mind is running so fast that I am effectively trapped inside of my own skull, though I assume that that is about to drastically change here soon. As the end approaches, I had a simple wish: if there is a next life, please let my brain and body be in tune this time. With this final thought, the bullet finally breaches the bone and everything cuts to black.