The weapons room was colder than normal and I felt one giant chill run evenly throughout my body. The night had engulfed the mansion and each minute that passed gave me less time. My hair was still wet from the rushed luke warm shower I took after speaking with the pack. My decision displeased them, but it wasn't up to them and it wasn't up to Rickon anymore. I was finally free to make things right, what I should have done many years ago.
I packed a duffle bag with weapons and supplies along with one extra change of clothing. My uniform was only burnt tatters now, mixed along with the charred remains of my former comrades. I still had my leathers and they still fit like a second skin.
I loaded my favorite berretta and strapped it onto my waist. I exited the cold room and pac
