I didn't plan to die. I don't know who would, although I always knew it was a possibility. As I always told myself, I would either rise in glory or go down in flames. In the end, flames were the path fate chose.
In my final hours, it became abundantly clear that my ambition far surpassed what I was capable of achieving. In my final minutes, it became abundantly clear that I had a choice. I could fight for my survival, to no avail, or I could choose to die.
It’s two ways of looking at the same thing. There's truly no difference. Both involve hitting the bad guy as hard as you can, and both involve your dying breath. But only one involves failure.
So hit me with your best shot. I have my pride and my best friend at my side. What do you think you can take away from me?