[quote]I was sat there, immobile and struggling to reroute what little power I had left to my transmitter. I thought of the many stories of brave journeys across endless deserts, and great merchant ships stranded on lost islands. Maybe it was my memory banks short-circuiting, or maybe it was the undying hatred for the billions of coarse grains of sand lodged in every aperture on my body. Either way, sand was all I could think about.
Two days prior, I had been responding to a distress beacon from the Buried City. It turned out to be a trap laid by a small pack of Cabal scouts, clearly pining for a promotion from lookout duty. A lucky shot from one of their rifles had pierced my power cells, and I lost all motion in my left leg. I took them all out swiftly, before pulling myself into cover from the sandstorm I could see brewing in the distance. As I slumped into a corner against a wall, the ceiling above gave way, burying my body beneath sand and rubble. I tried to move my working leg and arms, but the sand flowed into the joints like water, jamming them into position. I was stuck. The only thing I could do was activate my own distress beacon, and wait...
I could tell I only had a few hours of power left at this point, and assumed I was doomed to become one with the ruins of the city. I considered simply shutting down and giving up, as the sandstorm raged on. But then, over the howling winds, I heard a familiar voice. "Over there!" it called. I watched as a hooded figure materialised from the darkness of the storm. If only we Exos could smile; this would have been the perfect time.[/quote]
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