That it would all end here in this small space seemed too pathetic, too absurd. That the battle was over, an epic struggle lost for want of another 30 seconds. And then it came, death’s first wave, the first grasp of the reaper pulling away his conscience life from the drained husk of his spent body. He tried to fight this inevitable force but the second and third waves, he knew, in this final moment would be too great and would come too soon. His life, that thing which all beings hold most dear was being taken from him in a final injustice. The last curious thought of his dying brain was the realization that at the end he didn’t think of god, or of his children but just air, the sweet drenching air of earth. And then, darkness.