“Oh, I’ll help you alright…”

Nappa stood in a desolate plain now, the sand-shaded dusty ground. How had he gotten here? He remembered the events - much to his dismay - but he hadn’t expected that was how he’d die. He expected something more honourable; and being incinerated wasn’t honourable in the slightest. Especially when it was at the hand of your boss. 

He remembered the bright, burning white light that scorched the surface of his skin. The unbearable pain that came before the numbness. And the sudden dark that followed the feeling of his every fiber being conflagrated. He remembered hearing that traitorous laugh as he died, remembered seeing the sickening smile just before he was killed in cold blood. That was the part that hurt the most: the damage to his pride.
He thought back on it now, retracing every little detail in his mind. Each insufferable second as his life was burnt out. Like a candle flame blown out.
Sands of time were swayed and pushed, stopped and rushed. An hourglass cut in half. A clock that had run out of battery. Like an art piece that was left unfinished. Nappa's life had been cut short.

Quietly, recalling everything that had happened - everything he had done. Every event that had occurred in his life, every life he had impacted. Hell was a fitting place for him, it made sense that this was where he ended up. He hadn’t done very much ‘good’ in his life, and what good he had done was outweighed by all the horrible deeds he had committed. This was where he belonged. 

The heavy air blew slowly, dragging him back to reality. And as he stood there, waiting for nothing in particular, he heard a voice speak up. Interrupting his thoughts, the voice repeated itself in a slightly more urgent tone: “Nappa?”

He turned to see the source of the voice. However, he already knew who it was, he could recognize that voice anywhere.