Tilted dream

Previously

…He picked up another piece of jagged metal, its weight familiar in his trembling hand. The gas was a burning torment, the Waken a terrifying wave. He was John, the man who had woken with no memory, the man who had found a flicker of hope in this dead world. And now, he would be the shield. He would be the last stand. He would buy them time, even if it meant his own end. He met the first Waken head-on, a guttural roar of defiance tearing from his throat. The battle was not about survival anymore. It was about a choice. A choice made in the face of utter destruction. A choice that, he prayed, would lead someone, somewhere, to a future.