Cyprus could faintly hear a human voice, one that was questioning his condition, no doubt. He could hear the rapid fire of the bullets, the screech of the super mutant and the slam of it's sledgehammer. Cyprus looked up at the soldier that was speaking to him, a concerned look on his face. No words would come out of his blood-filled mouth, however, no matter how hard he tried to speak. Finally, he managed to mumble a faint, "H-help", in the hope that the soldier could hear him over the violence that was taking place. "G-Gun.." he gestured to his laser rifle.<br/><br/>Cyprus wanted the soldier to take it, so that in the event that he should pass away from his wounds some part of him would still survive.<span style="font-style: italic">But I must survive</span>, he thought as blood seeped from the multiple wounds his his body. Hopefully, they would kill that thing and put him back together again, but if not so be it.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">I try really hard not to fear death</span>, he thought a few moments before all of this. For many years before he had been training his mind and his body to block out the pain and the fear that being a Knight brought along with the fancy suits and the deadly laser weaponry. Being a Knight meant that you had the whole wasteland against you. Against the suit. Against the guns. Against everything you stand for and more. Most Knights held on for what they were fighting for, whether it be for a better wasteland, or just for a sense of authority and protection. Cyprus? He had forgotten a long time ago what he was fighting for and now with blood running everywhere it was hard to focus on the road ahead, where ever that road may lead. One thing was clear however, clearer than the clearest water that he had ever tasted: War never changes. It would always escape his memory as to where he had heard that before, but it was true. War never changes.<br/><br/>Coughing and wheezing, he tried to reach out to the soldier. Touch him. Grab him. Let him know that this body was still kicking and ready to take what the wasteland can dish out.<span style="font-style: italic">Please,</span>he thought again,<span style="font-style: italic">Help me...</span><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Help me!</span><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Help me!</span><br/><br/>"Help me!" He finally summoned all of his strength to shout at the soldier, much to his surprise. Maybe it was the adrenaline coursing through his body that aided him or some other force, but what ever the case may be the soldier must have heard him now.