Cliff Mason
I just wanna say, first things first:

Cliff Mason stands at the opening doors of an airlock. Determination burns behind his visor.

  Cliff Mason
I really, really, don't want to... fight...?

The airlock doors fully open and Cliff can now see that there's nobody here to greet him. The airlock opens into a dark and achingly empty atrium, with the a logo depicting two clasped hands enscribed on the floor.

  Cliff Mason
...Hello?









Cliff skulks through halls and offices. He's got his gun at the ready with the underslung flashlight attached. There's cobwebs in the corners, but still not a soul to be seen.

  Cliff Mason
Hello!
Anybody home!?

  Cliff Mason
What the hell...?



He lights up a little conference pod. This one's got people in it: two skeletons, still wearing their military uniforms.

  Cliff Mason
Oh, Jesus--!

Cliff hears a voice come from behind him, from an elevated balcony.

  Major Mercy
Cliff.
There you are.

Mercy is sitting at a table in her full battle armour, sans helmet. She's holding a bottle of whiskey in her claw. Allen lies on the table next to her.

  Major Mercy
I thought you might come.

  Cliff Mason
MERCY!?
Care to explain what the hell is going on here!?

  Major Mercy
It was bound to end like this, wasn't it? The way it was going.
Only a matter of time.

  Cliff Mason
Cut the shit! Do you think this is funny!?
When High Command finds out about this--

  Major Mercy
High Command? Heh. Hehehhahaaahaa...

Cliff is pointing his gun right at her head. Mercy doesn't even sit up in her chair.

  Cliff Mason
I said CUT IT OUT! All this cryptic shit!!
You are going to EXPLAIN to me what the HELL is happening RIGHT. NOW.
You understand me!? NOW!!

  Major Mercy
...

Mercy takes a swig of her bottle...



... And then glares up at Cliff.

  Major Mercy
We were winning, you know.