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[centre][h1][color=Silver]William McGregor[/color][/h1][/centre]
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[color=gray]	He thought deeply to himself. William knew that everything here was indeed what governmental officials were keeping from them, their idea of [i]Protection to the Public.[/i] At this point in time, part of him still had a deep grudge against the new Section 8 interferers, yet there was still a little sympathy. How can anyone have fought things like these for so long, and still not had the privilege of warning the Public, or other Military organisations, in order to prepare them for the worse? It must be painful, mentally, for someone to have to go about this on a day-to-day basis. But then, yet again, was there even a brain for the woman to have broken down? Her body seemed completely and utterly augmented, something William would refuse even in the face of death. It wasn't like he hated the idea of saving lives and upgrading peoples hope...It was just the pain that came with it. There was a feeling, a phantom limb where the replacement was fitted in. Take William's hand for example, he hated the feeling. Sometimes, through mental hallucination and delusion, he could swear sometimes his fingers would twitch, as if they were still there. The numb feeling of having that terrified him sometimes, and so to have more than just a hand replaced by things only to create similar experiences...It must be a trip of mental suicide.

	His mind returned to what mattered. It trailed off from the sympathetic thoughts of his rescuer, the confusion of who the Marksmen was and the whole experience of his own issues. William brought himself back into the mind of an Officer. He had a task, a mission and information just given to him by whatever authority. This information was completely confusing...Anything could've been said other than that and it would've made more sense.[/color]

[color=silver][b]"Wait...So this wasn't some bloody Lab Creation? Nothing we've ever come across before?"[/b][/color] [color=Gray]William looked back at the four remaining comrades of his. It wasn't completely true, what the Commander had said about him. He shouldn't of been the next IC of the group. However, the hopes of the remaining looked upon him as if he'd always had led them. They were shocked, the lot of them. Jason, Jess, Franklin and Thomas...They were looking to him, completely disregarding any authority they would've had over him. He stared at their eyes, as their helmets were taken off. Each one of them, even Jason, looked traumatised...Mostly covered in blood, whether it was their own or someone else's, and unsure of what exactly was to happen next, they continued to stare back at William. William's head lowered; his breath drew colder and lower.[/color] [color=silver][b]"How...How can we go with you? What good are five...Five remaining Armed Police Officers...Practically betrayed by their authority...What use are we? Actually...I don't want an answer...Don't answer that."[/b][/color] [color=gray]He continued to pause for a moment, catching his breath once more as he looked at the team. Through visual gestures, they were prepared to make their decision.[/color] [color=Silver][b]"I...I don't...We can't just join...we...We can. If you truly need us...for whatever reason...We will try to make it happen, as our duties to the MCPD state...But we'll need something in return...and not just myself, but us all, know that you'll figure something out that'll actually make this tragedy worthwhile..."[/b][/color]