Alana tried with all her might to move them.

His surroundings shimmered once again as he fell once again, this time expecting the fall. He placed his hands forward as he fell on a musty bed, rolling off it and onto dirty floorboards. All he could hear was the moving of cars and moving of feet. Looked like they were back in the city.

Alana hit the ground with a thud and an 'oof' and she weakly lifted her head and looked around.

Arland and Martin both clashed as they fell, Martin rolling away but Arland staying there, groaning in pain. Martin moved back, looking away as he regurgitated the food he had eaten in the citadel, moaning. "Urgh." He mumbled as he crawled over to Arland and helped his limp frame onto the small bed.

Alana groaned and she drifted out of consciousness, blood dripping out of her ears.

Martin cursed as he went over to Alana and placed her next to the bed. "What the hell do I do know...?" He muttered, his hands shaking from the recent events which had transpired.

Alana reached out and gripped his hand as she drifted in and out of consciousness.

"It's going to be fine." He chuckled to himself, trying to keep himself awake as his head pounded with pain. "Like always, it's going to be fine." He looked over at Arland who seemed to be snoring and sighed.

Alana continued to drift in and out of consciousness, her head bleeding.

Martin looked at the gun which was still gripped in his hands and threw it at a nearby wall, letting go of Alana's hand. His anger finally came to a climax as he pounded his head against the wall several times, tears streaming down his face.

"No..." Alana groaned.

He then picked up the gun which was lying on the floor and placed it to his head, sobbing loudly - each sob wracking through his body.

Alana cried out in pain.

Martin's head shook as he looked back at Alana, the vision of the dead people back at his home town gushing back as he dropped the gun, sobbing loudly.

Alana's head pounded with his sobs and she gripped it, groaning in pain.

Martin finally fell unconscious after a prolonged time of sobbing and pounding his head against the wall, contemplating taking his life but too scared to do such.

Alana groaned in pain until she too fell unconscious.

Martin awoke a few hours later, moaning as he pressed a hand on his hand, feeling the pain pulsing through him once again. "Alana..." He muttered, looking around the room they had been dumped in.

Alana was also asleep, barely breathing, her breath short and shallow.

Assuming she was still asleep, Martin came to his feet, placing his hand on a foggy window and moving the curtain across, revealing abandoned streets which were lined with cars and buildings.

Alana remained unconscious.

He slumped on the end of the bed where Arland lay and sighed, placing his head in his hands, awaiting for the two to wake.

Alana didn't wake.

Martin looked over at Alana, then back at Arland who's eyes were starting to blink, his mind drifting from the unconscious state.

Alana didn't wake.