Marlon shuddered, and glared at Singh.

You may not be at the highest point in your life…

But you don’t need Singh telling you that you’re stupid!

Fuck that!

A further rush of images flashed through Marlon’s mind – images from an altogether different world, a world of his own confabulation, a fantasy world in which he was still important.

Surely it isn’t time to just lie down and die.

Surely you can still do this one last thing to save the world.

“But…”

Surely…

“Marlon, please, don’t persist with this. It’s just… not worth it.”

“Couldn’t we just… arrest him, at least?”

Marlon could feel his resolve weaken. He desperately wanted to cling to this vision of himself as The Great Hero but even as he tried to flesh it out, the image faded before his eyes… leaving only the bleak, lonely reality that he dreaded daily–

When are you going to face it Marlon.

You are no longer relevant…

You are just another invisible old man.

Before this one, last, brief mission, his retirement had passed excruciatingly slowly.

Long days alone…

And in the evening… only guilt coming to visit.

Like a beast at the moment of slaughter, Marlon felt a surge of resistance, one final pulse of life.

No! Don’t settle for this!

Don’t ever give up!

You can still re-emerge as an entity – a player.

Yes – he could see his face on television – an old photo, the new hero.

All he needed was a gun. He’d find Max the old fashioned way – out in the field, on his own, like a man.

Then you’ll get the respect you deserve.

And not just from creeps like Singh…

No, respect from people back home, people that matter, real people.

Yes… you’ll be a star of daytime T.V.!

Marlon… Man of the Moment!

Mmm.