[ There's laughter and joyous singing, even as the circle of hands grows smaller one by one, a strange dichotomy with the rapid gunfire, explosions and terrified screams cut short in the real world.

Sinclair's eyes are wide, almost unseeing when he glances over to meet Oria's gaze]

How can I...when all we're doing is killing people we're supposed to care about?

[His chest heaves a little, but his body is still moving on instinct, shields coming up to protect them from a barrage of bullets]

And the people responsible, the people that want this the most, are just sitting there watching.

[His arm moves up again, seemingly of its own accord. Light begins to gather]

I don't want to die. But I don't want them to die either.