POV: Logan
I must admit, it was... weird. I have never felt so free in my life. Mowing down Blume goons, one after another. First, they came in waves. Gunmen, Veterans, Elites, Enforcers, Marksmen. Next, they were deployed all at once. This was no longer a test.
This was an all-out assault on my position.
No longer was I fighting mere cannon fodder; I was dealing with hardened enemies. They were ruthless, and would rather die a thousand deaths before they yielded. Oh, boy. If I make it out, I'm going to a 40k game somewhere in the city for some R&R. I don't have any more clones, so this better be a success.
But I know better. They will throw EVERYTHING that they have at me. And when they run out of people, they'll send robots. When they run out of robots, they'll send helicopters of toxic chemicals and dangerous substances like Napalm. They won't stop until I am dead.
POV: 3rd
A well-placed sniper got a good eye on his target. After the onslaught wore him out, a shot was taken before he could activate a fail safe. This was Logan's last life... and he blew it. Words rang through a radio. "Target down." A bullet lied in the head of the grown man, his brain shutting down from the blood loss. His vision faded to black.
Logan's soul found itself in a void. Looking around, all he could see was black. He looked at his body. Everything was there... was this how it all ended? Was he finally free of this curse? He floated aimlessly until he found... a light. Going towards it, he was almost there when something grabbed him and pulled him back. Away, away, away. Where he stopped, it was so black, he couldn't see anything. Eventually, he stopped moving. He stopped thinking. His memories were the only thing keeping him alive, replaying them endlessly.
And then, he had feeling in his body.