Alone, Rico finds himself amidst the territory of the enemy; but more isolated is he amongst his own mind, his reality shattered by the experience of facing directly at reality incarnate itself. A god, he encountered? Not the one he has known for a lifetime: omni-benevolent, omni-present, omni-powerful, all-knowing, the god he had grown to love. No, it named itself Nyarlathotep, the Crawling Chaos. Deity of a foreign religion outside of his own. He faced a god nonetheless, a unrelenting force capable of taking life away in a instant like it did for Aziza right before his very eyes.
But, perhaps he is so utterly crushed by the death of his comrades at the hands of a unknown enemy that he has begun to lose his mind, the weight of being a vanguard for everyone crushing him at the end and the horrors of war between brothers taking its toll in him, making fascinations of unexplainable horrors being responsible for his failure instead. Yet, he is sure of what he saw, many killed by the uttermost of horrors, a devil of darkness incarnate, boasting blades so vile they grow hungry for desolation. Still, he lacks the peaces necessary to complete his personal puzzle.
Knowing however of his actual dire standing, he recollects all his thoughts into one goal: survival. Setting aside everything, he stands up again and begins to walk, but the force of the inside chaos seemed all too real. It felt alien, but familiar. Eldrich, and explicable. The voice will seemed like a universal, tacit law: Nothings has yet lived that will not die.
After what seemed eons of walking, he finally gets a glimpse of signal and contacts his teammate Sharkface, reassuring his survival and positioning for evacuation. Only three others of his meshed squad made it out alive, Hikari and Roman being saved by quick thinking of Samuel: to backtrack on their steps towards cleared territory.
Setting camp for himself at a reserved hill, he finally catches breath, sightseeing the devastation that has occurred. Realizing his own life was at the cost of leaving Adam behind, and the others butchered by a mechanical reaper trying to save Aziza without fruition, the destruction of his psyche continues to take its toll, leaving him shattered.
"You are our instruments of eternal salvation through your destruction; you fight against cosmic forces humans cannot begin to comprehend..."
All the combat prowess he has, all the will he gathered to fight, all to mean nothing? His efforts in vain? Visions of terrible abominations manifests themselves unto his mind, space-tearing blotting out the sky through which monsters pour out to devour worlds. A war for survival ending in only ruin. These strike chords within him, as he stands motionless amidst the fire of winged demons, incinerating his skin. A final light appears before his eyes, as he instinctively closes the lids out of the intense brightness, he beings preparing himself for whatever lays ahead of life, only to feel the touch of another human reaching for his own hand.
"Rico! Get on!" Samuel yells over the loud sound of the shuttle's turbine.
Getting on, being received by his friend, he looks at other fellow surviving marines, all with a scarred look in their faces, distraught and broken.
"Damn, I'm glad you made it. I sincerely couldn't look forward to going on in this war solo. I cannot imagine what Adam must be going through. I hope we can get him in time, his armor's locator still responds, currently hold up at the center of London, base of the rebels, alongside the other hostages. We'll come back for... Rico? Hey, Rico? You're listening? Angel?"
Not turning a glint, ignoring all outside sources, Rico remains catatonic. Quickly fearing of any health problems, Sam calls the two medics, after which they examine his face and pulse, getting the other marines involved as well in worry. Slapping his face, Sam continues begging for a response, for which, without turning a bit his expression, Vratski whispers:
"I have spoken with the darkness."