In that moment of searing pain and disorienting chaos, as Ralph fell to the ground, a different kind of agony seized his heart. Amidst the physical anguish, a profound betrayal cut through him like a jagged knife. His mind struggled to comprehend the unthinkable — betrayal from his own comrades, his brothers-in-arms.

Faces he had trusted, voices he had relied on, now revealed a chilling mask of treachery. Three of his squad members, once bound by an unbreakable bond forged in the crucible of battle, had orchestrated this macabre betrayal. The shock hit him like a tidal wave, stealing his breath and replacing it with a bitter taste of disillusionment.

In the midst of the battlefield's cacophony, the echoes of their past camaraderie reverberated in his mind. Shared laughter after successful missions, the unspoken understanding during perilous moments, all of it turned to ash in his mouth. His eyes, wide with disbelief, locked onto their faces, now twisted by a sinister determination.

Time seemed to stretch, and in those harrowing moments, Ralph's emotions were a tempest. Betrayal intertwined with profound hurt, a visceral ache in his chest that threatened to consume him. Anger bubbled beneath the surface, an indignant fury at the audacity of their betrayal, mingling with profound sorrow for the bonds irreparably shattered.

Betrayed, wounded, and left for dead, his grip on reality teetered on the edge of despair. Yet, amidst the overwhelming anguish, a flicker of defiance sparked in his eyes. The betrayal that had shattered his trust also steeled his resolve. In that moment of agony and disillusionment, a vow emerged — a promise to himself that he would survive, not merely as a testament to his strength, but as a testament to the unbreakable spirit of a betrayed soldier.

With every gasping breath, amidst the chaos and betrayal, Ralph clung to a single thought: they might have thought they broke him, but he refused to yield. His spirit, though battered, remained unbroken, a defiant flame amidst the darkness of betrayal.

Boy, was he wrong.

In an instant, it happened. A sharp, searing pain tore through his side, followed by a deafening explosion that seemed to echo in his very soul. Time seemed to freeze as he was thrust backward, his body contorting in response to the impact. The world spun, a whirlwind of colors and shapes, until everything blurred into an indistinguishable haze.

In that moment, amidst the chaos and violence, Ralph felt an overwhelming sense of disbelief. His mind struggled to comprehend the reality of what had just occurred. He had just steeled his resolve and strengthened his will to live to fight another day.

Pain, sharp and all-consuming, surged through him, grounding him in the brutal truth of his mortality. It was as if the universe had delivered a cruel reminder, a reminder of the fragility of life and the inevitability of death.

Ralph's thoughts became a disjointed jumble of memories and regrets. Faces of loved ones flashed before his eyes, including the members of his squad, which was even more painful for him. Moments of joy and sorrow intertwined in a surreal montage. He thought of the dreams he had yet to chase, the promises left unfulfilled, the life he had yet to live.

Despite the pain, the fear, and the impending darkness, he clung to the flickering ember of life within him. His fingers tightened around his weapon, a final act of resistance against the encroaching void.

And then, as his vision dimmed and the sounds of battle faded into a distant roar, Ralph's last conscious thought was a whisper, a desperate plea to a universe that seemed indifferent to his struggle: "Not yet. Not like this."

"Blue Whale, hang in there! Don't you dare fall asleep, I'm gonna get you out."

Although blurry and unable to discern this or that person, he recognized the voice that spoke to him.

"Your daughter's waiting for her dad to come home, so don't you die on me."

All this in an attempt to keep him alive. As he was keeping company, motivating him, he was also pressing against his wound trying to stop him from bleeding out.

Ralph had multiple gunshot wounds, all of which had been attended to by another one of his subordinates, one of the two still on his side. As one attended to Ralph's wounds, the other fought off the squad members that betrayed them.

While giving him first aid, a stray bullet caught Mother, ending her life on the spot. Which was why Mamba was simultaneously shooting back at the traitors whilst holding a cloth over Ralph's wound. Maybe it was adrenaline, but while wasting the traitors' minions and helping his Captain, there were bullets buried in his left thigh and one in his guts.

"Stay with me, please! It will all be over soon, don't leave me hanging, man. What am I supposed to tell Anya if you die?" Mamba winced with every breath, the pain in every part of his body a constant reminder of the battle's brutality. The pain that could be heard from his voice was much worse; he gritted his teeth as he squeezed the machine gun's trigger with more vigor.

Unexpectedly, he felt a hand grab his shirt, pulling at it weakly. At that moment, his pain reached a point where he could no longer bear it. Tears began to trickle down his face uncontrollably. He was so heartbroken that he completely abandoned his position and turned back to face his captain and he cupped his hand in his.

The Captain he knew had always been a man of strength, loved by all and feared by the opposition. He stood out wherever he went, a man of undying loyalty and an insurmountable sense of duty towards his country. That same man betrayed by the country he protected for the majority of his life, killed by the same men he had groomed and taken care of.

So, of course, Mamba couldn't hold back his tears or afford to care about what was going to inevitably happen to him. The person he had looked up to all his life is lying down helplessly right before him, barely hanging on to dear life.

"Daddy loves you, Anya." Ralph winced as he coughed up blood. A streak of tear rolling down his cheek, mixing up with the blood on it.

And then, there was nothing. Everything went dark for Ralph.

"RALPH!!" Mamba let out a primal roar, his fists clenched at the sides, his eyes blazing with intense fury.

Tapping all over Ralph's uniform then pockets, he felt a bulge then reached inside his pocket, he took out a remote that had a single button on it. With a single push of that button, he could blow up the whole place, which was their mission in the first place.

His vision blurred for a moment, the world tilting sideways as another batch of bullets connected with his body, disorienting him.

Almost falling on Ralph's body, he used his unoccupied hand as a stand against the ground.

"The-They… never deserved us, sir. Don't go too far… without me." Those were Mamba's words as he bit the solid surface of the remote in an attempt to use his teeth as a third hand. Sliding two fingers over Ralph's eyelids, he stood upright without a care about the rapid gunfire coming from the enemy, facing the dead body of his Captain. He saluted at it for the last time then crushed the button with his teeth.

As Mamba's teeth pressed down on the remote's button, the world around him erupted into chaos. The deafening explosion drowned out the sounds of battle, leaving behind a surreal silence. The explosions going off in a chain reaction, he just stood there waiting for his turn, his eyes remained fixed on the lifeless form of his Captain, his salute a final tribute to the fallen hero. With a heavy heart, he whispered, "Rest in peace, Captain." Before succumbing to the darkness that enveloped him.

A bullet had found its way to the back of his head.