Mike woke up in the tavern. His hair was all disheveled and he had managed to spill some drink on his shirt late last night.
The tavern was mostly empty, though a bar tender was wiping the counter with a rag. A fire burned lightly in the fireplace.
Mike rubbed his eyes, remembering where he was. And what had happened.
I can't take this anymore. I failed my new friends. I failed my family. And I can't even face myself anymore. Maybe... maybe I should just... give up.
Mike took a moment trying to decide what he wanted to eat for breakfast. He chose some pancakes.
There's a canyon a mile or so away. Might as well enjoy my last meal.