[ WP ] A soldier in the midst of defeat

Failure. Some failures are worse than others. 
 
 George was on his side, in a pool of his own blood. The once busy street, now cracked and broken by warfare, was loud with the sound of gunfire. George was a soldier, sure, but three bullets in the leg is enough to put most people out of action. He was n't Superman, after all. 
 George was n't used to the location, either. He was used to fighting in wider areas, and poorer countries. Usually with a lot more sand. He never expected to be fighting on his own soil. George fell on to his back, and watched as what was left of his comrades fought on, valiantly, against the mechanised military invading their home. Looking back at his mangled leg, George felt the pain a bit more. But not enough to take his mind off the present. He looked back at the advancing horde, and awaited one to notice him and kill him without skipping a beat. Perhaps that was for the best. Except something had changed. They were n't advancing anymore. And they were n't shooting. 
 
 George sat up slightly looking in puzzlement as a medic ran up to him and examined his leg. Other soldiers sighed in relief, others still advanced forward while they could, reloaded, or relaxed a little, waiting for whatever came next. But most just stared in confusion. 
 Seconds went by, three then four before the drones finally moved. Up. They rocketed in to the air, and away. Within a minute, only the troops were left. The naive ones cheered, thinking they'd won, but the older troops calmed them with worried expressions painted on their faces. No one knew what was happening, comms were out. But it could n't be good, surely? 
 
 Suddenly, as George was beginning to speak to the medic, his voice was drowned out in a scream. George looked at his comrades, and watched as some ran away in fear, others glued to the spot, looking in awe. The medic had left before George realised, sprinting down the street. George slowly turned himself to look in the direction his friends were gawking at, and what he saw brought his heart to his throat. He only saw a black dot in the distance, falling ever so-slowly, before it happened. George's view was flashed and his sight obliterated with the brilliant light of a thousand suns, the horrendous, thundering roar only lasting a second or two before his ear drums were destroyed. He fell on to his back, two senses gone, and all he could feel was the first wave, and the heat washing over him, as he succumbed to the unbelievable power emanating from only a mile away. To protect his country, they had failed. He had failed. 
 And some failures are worse than others.
